Page 2 of Thots and Prayers

“Are you all right?” Both men were touching and checking on me frantically as if I were still human. I brushed them away. A flat tire wasn’t going to do me any damage.

“I’m fine. Did the tire just blow?” We got out to assess the situation, confirming what we’d heard.

“We must have hit something.” Constantine rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Fuck.”

Suddenly, smoke poured from the hood. Both men worked to lift it and smoke billowed out, causing them to cough and step back just as the car caught on fire.

“Well, that’s not good,” Kansas muttered.

“No shit, it’s not good,” Constantine snapped.

Just then, someone came from the building across the street. A small group followed suit from various buildings and soon we heard a fire truck in the distance. We stepped back and let the firemen spray the car with an extinguisher.

“Where are you all headed?” a policeman who’d shown up asked. “Why’d you come to Ricefield?”

“We’re on a road trip,” Constantine said in a clipped tone. “We were planning on trying to get a room at that motel for a night before continuing on.” He pointed down the road at the large faded blue sign with pink lettering that said Brenner Motel.

“Looks like you may be staying more than one night.” The police officer clicked his tongue. “Let’s call Lucky, he’ll give you a tow and see what he can do for you.”

The town gathered around the scene as if it were the most interesting thing to happen to them in months. Based on the murmurs, they didn’t like us. Our tattoos, our black clothing, our general foreignness.

“What did you say your name was, son?” the officer asked Constantine.

He gave the name from the file Kansas had stolen. “Priest Duvall.”

“Priest?” The officer raised his eyebrow and looked Constantine over. “Well, Priest, let’s get you to the motel. Hopefully, Mitch has some rooms open.”

We waited until the mechanic came with his tow truck. He promptly informed us that whatever parts he would need to fix Constantine’s car would take at least a week to get.

“Maybe more, dependin’ on if I like you or not.” Lucky snickered. “I’m the only mechanic in the county. Good luck finding someone else to work on this for you.”

The officer gave Lucky a look of chastisement. “Come on now, be polite to Priest Duvall. Come you three, I’ll drive you down to Brenner’s Motel.”

The three of us shared a look and agreed to let him take the car after we’d emptied it of our suitcases.

“Now what?” I asked, dejected. I looked at the one-story motel. It was old and gave ‘rent by the hour’ vibes.

“Well…” Constantine lifted his suitcase and mine and turned toward the motel. “I guess we finally go get some rest. Maybe they’ll have donuts.”

RULE 2 - CONSTANTINE

DON’T ARGUE WITH PEOPLE IN SMALL TOWNS IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.

“One room, please.” I stood at the front desk, speaking to the clerk at the desk. His name tag said, Mitch. Mitch, a clean-cut man about our age, maybe a few years older, smiled politely and nodded.

“Of course. Mother just finished cleaning the rooms. We have two rooms available if you’d like.” He nodded to Kansas and Eisley, standing behind me. I tightened my smile.

“Just one room is fine.”

“Two beds?” The way his head was twitching and his eyes jerking between us amused me to no end.

“We only need one.”

His brown, busy eyebrows rose, but he didn’t push it further. “Understood. One room, one bed. Officer Sam put in a good word for you, so I’ll gladly give you our best suite.”

“The honeymoon suite?” I chuckled.

“Some could call it that.” He didn’t look at me. Instead, he brought out a large notebook and opened it. It was a ledger book. What year was this? I looked around the small, motel office. It did feel as if time had stopped about seventy years ago.