Page 96 of Evil Hearts

Mudworm

BY JOANNE KWAN

Thursday

The roadside historichotel had certainly seen better days. Cracks ran along the moulding down the halls, chasing the newest guest to his quarters. Though, they could hardly be noticed under the flickering lights fighting for life through an outdated electrical system. The door creaked in protest when Lewis entered his musty room. He dropped his suitcase on the luggage rack by the closet beneath the glare of the patch jobs on the wall and ceiling.

The floor was in no better condition, as parts of the carpet were stained or worn bare. Lewis avoided the more heinous spots as he shuffled along the side of the mattress in his survey for bed bugs. It was his absolute first task whenever sleeping in an unfamiliar room, and with a hotel in this state, bed bugs would not be much of a shock. He pulled out his phone when it dug into his waist in his extreme crouching. The phone barely fit on the tiny nightstand, and it buzzed off the side when it received a call. Lewis scrambled to reach it before the call ceased. It was his friend, Ryan.

“Hello?” huffed Lewis, standing up. His knees popped.

“Hey! You in the area?” came Ryan’s strong voice.

“Yeah, I just checked into my room.”

“Wanna meet up and have dinner with me?”

“Oh, sure! Where are you?”

“I’m exploring around Isleton. You can meet me at the Chinese restaurant at the corner of Main and March in—say thirty minutes?”

“Sure, sounds good! See you then.”

Lewis hung up first, as he usually did. With no signs of pests, he confidently sat on the bed and sighed. For a moment he rested, letting the stale air wash over his body. He then got up to unzip his luggage. He took out his toiletry bag and went to the bathroom to freshen up before leaving to meet his friend.

The drive to downtown Isleton from his hotel took all of eight minutes. Even without the cross streets, it would have been easy to locate the restaurant. Isleton was a small town with only a handful of eateries available, and just one Chinese restaurant.

Parking was easy to find as Thursdays did not see many tourists, but few came to this county smack dab in the center of Northern California. Quaint storefronts flanked Main Street, several with preserved nineteenth-century facades. Just a street over was the Sacramento River.

Lewis flexed his feet on the concrete. He craned his neck to keep watch in the shade of the brick building. Ryan was his best friend in college. Thrust into the same dorm room freshman year, fate had designed their friendship around late-night video game runs and weekend frisbee tournaments. Ryan’s familiar bespectacled face appeared around the block.

Ryan greeted Lewis with a bear hug. “I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen you!”

“A year and a half ago at Ines’ wedding,” clarified Lewis.

“Ooh, right. I totally should have called to meet up with you some weekend, but Ayla and I have been so busy planning the wedding.”

“I’m sure all that planning won’t go to waste. Everything will come together.” Lewis flashed his friend a smile, but he couldnot help thinking of his own nuptials years ago. It was difficult then, fresh out of college. “Where’s Ayla by the way?”

“She’s still on her way up from her parents’ in Fresno. I’ll meet her at our hotel later tonight.” Ryan gestured toward the restaurant’s door. “Shall we? I’m starving.”

A few tables were already occupied when the two entered, but it seemed they beat whatever the dinner rush was in this small town. Lewis scanned the plastic-sleeved menu cracking at the corners. It was standard American Chinese faire, broccoli beef, chow mein, fried rice, honey walnut shrimp, orange chicken. Connoisseurs of authentic cuisine would balk at some of these items, but Lewis certainly held a respect for how well his ancestral countrymen made a place for themselves in the culinary history of the U.S. Besides, he had eaten a ton of this stuff in his college days with his friends when they would trot over to the Cantonese deli after class. It was a guilty pleasure.

Ryan ordered his favorite dishes to share, hot and sour soup, beef fried rice, and egg rolls. Conversation was second nature to Ryan, and most of the words and laughter passing between them came from his mustachioed lips.

“Oh man, I read nightmare reviews of that place. It’s why Ayla and I booked a hotel in Elk Grove. Why are you stayingthere?”

“I like adventuring in my own backyard. Plus, it’s historic, you know. It’s a little run-down, but it’s not too bad.”

“Well, if you decide to bail, the inn here in Isleton I hear is pretty nice.”

“Thanks.”

Their food arrived served on plastic dishes stamped with a generic red Chinese pattern along the rims. They reminded Lewis of family potlucks from his childhood, and he suddenly felt his hunger. Miraculously, Ryan managed to avoid talking with his mouth full while still keeping up the conversation.Lewis switched between sipping hot soup and munching on an egg roll while listening to his friend attentively.

“How’s your dad, by the way?” Ryan asked.

“He’s doing well. Even a stroke can’t slow him down.”

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