Page 3 of Thots and Prayers

“Mother prefers to have a paper trail,” he explained. “I input it into our computer system after the office closes every evening.” His smile was slightly unnerving. He scribbled something in the book and looked up at me. “That’ll be a hundred a night. Is that okay, Priest Duvall?”

“I have cash, is that okay, Mitch Brenner?” I was sharper than I needed to be, but he was putting me on edge. I just couldn’t put my finger on why.

“It’s preferred.” He stood up straight and smiled. His smile was large and too white. I pulled my wallet out and handed him five twenty-dollar bills. I’d have to find an ATM if we were going to stay longer. He took my money, put it in his register, and turned around, pulling a key off a hook.

“Room eight is yours. I can take you there if you’d like.” He rounded the desk, but I put my hand up to stop him.

“We’ve got it, Mitch. Thanks.”

He nodded politely. “If you need any room service or assistance of any sort, just call the front desk. Mother or I will be available.”

Mother.

Who called their mom that?

I grimaced and turned toward Eisley and Kansas. We picked up our bags and went to our room. The interior resembled the set of a 70’s porno. Red shag carpet lined the floors and went halfway up the walls. They’d updated the TV and put a microwave on the table, but I wasn’t entirely confident that they’d had visitors since Nixon was president.

We dropped our stuff, and Eisley, ever the Suzy homemaker, unpacked for us. I never cared about folding my clothes and shit while staying at motels.

“I don’t like it here,” she said. “They don’t want us.”

“What made you think that?” Kansas said sarcastically, plopping down onto the oversized heart-shaped bed. I glanced at it and frowned. Normally we got two beds when we stayed overnight places. Eisley would pick one of us to sleep with and it was no big deal. But how Mitch and the rest of the town were looking at us, I wanted to prove a point. Now we were stuck sharing that stupid fucking thing.

“Who gives a shit? In a few days, we’ll be gone and won’t even remember them. It’ll be like a fever dream.” I picked up a restaurant guide, and scanned through our food options. “Anyone hungry?”

“Real food?” Eisley’s big brown eyes widened.

“There’s a diner that serves breakfast all day.” I read off the rest of the list. It was short, and I knew that the only place she’d deem edible was the diner. Eisley hated fast food of any sort. It made traveling with her a bit annoying. I loved her, and I’d do anything for her, but fuck if sometimes I didn’t just want a greasy cheeseburger.

“I could go for some waffles.” Kansas sat up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “What about you guys?”

Eisley grabbed the menu off the table and scanned it. “Meatloaf with homemade mashed potatoes sounds kind of good.”

We stepped out of the room. I lit a cigarette and looked back at them. Eisley had laced her hands with Kansas’s.

We walked to the diner, which, thankfully, wasn’t too far. A smiling waitress came to our table.

“We’re so happy to have you, Priest Duvall,” she greeted. “What can we get for you?”

The three of us exchanged looks, but I went with it, smiling and ordering my dinner. Who was this Priest that Kansas had stolen the name from? Was he someone famous? The waitress blushed and spoke cheerily throughout the meal. She even comped me a cherry pie at the end. Not Eisley or Kansas, just me. Just... Priest.

“We hope you enjoy your visit to Ricefield. It ain’t much, but it’s home.”

I thanked her and took the pie to-go. We then walked home with a cigarette between my lips, and Kansas and Eisley trailing close behind.

“Who the fuck is Priest Duvall, and why does everyone like him so much?” I demanded to Kansas. He raised his shoulders, looking bewildered.

“Just some dude that’s locked away in a mental facility. He wasn’t using the name.”

Was he a known criminal then? No, they wouldn’t like him if he was a criminal. We returned to our room and Kansas turned a movie on while Eisley went to shower.

“I’m going to go grab some soap and towels and shit,” I told Kansas, and made my way down to the office. Night was falling now, and there was one solitary light on inside. I paused for a moment to look at the sign. The vacancy light flicked off. A police car pulled into the parking lot slowly, driving right up to the office. I turned and went inside, only to be followed a second later by the cop.

Had Shelley Vale actually done some work and figured out it was us who killed half their town? I glanced at the officer and nodded, looking down.

“Hey, uh, Mitch?” I called.

Mitch popped his head out from the back. “I’m occupied, but I’ll send Mother!”

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