Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 11 (5 page)

Ruby Bee resumed staring out the window. Cherri Lucinda looked like she wanted to say something, but she kept her peace as Stormy squeezed her way thorough the aisle from the back of the van and plopped herself down. Behind them, Todd was snoring, and Taylor was reading a thick paperback book. The professor was humming bits of Elvis tunes; Ruby Bee hoped she wouldn't have to slap him upside the head in the next day or so, but she could see it might happen.

Baggins grunted and cursed under his breath as he battled the late-afternoon traffic. Big stone buildings gave way to less imposing structures, until most everything was real sorry. A discount liquor store sat next to an establishment to cash checks. A club promised naked women, cheap drinks, and no cover charge. Pretty soon they were treated to nothing more than walls splashed with graffiti and vacant lots strewn with broken glass.

"Just where are we going?" demanded Estelle.

"The Starbright Motel," Baggins said, dodging a car filled with raucous teen-aged boys that reeked of trouble in the making. "Five or ten more minutes."

Taylor lifted her eyes from her book. "I assume it's accredited with a nationally established chain."

Baggins braked to allow a couple of drunks to weave across the street. "Elvis himself stayed there before he hit it big. That's why C'Mon Tours chose it. One of you may be lucky enough to stay in the exact room he did back in nineteen fifty-three."

"I'm unfamiliar with that factoid," Rex Malanac said from his seat in the rear.

"Ain't my fault," Baggins countered as he swerved around a bag lady wheeling a cart, slowed down as a police car sped by, and then pulled into a parking lot. "Here we are, folks -- the Starbright Motel. It may not look like much, but it's an important site for dedicated Elvis fans. Ain't nobody come to Memphis without stopping here."

"Here?" said Estelle, gawking at the shoddy two-story structure. What once had been a swimming pool was now a pit of cracked concrete that seemed to be nothing more than a garbage dump. Two overweight men in vests, baggy pants, and caps were on the upstairs balcony, waving their arms at each other and mouthing what might well have been, to employ Miss Vetchling's terminology, vulgar language. One of them held a bottle in a brown paper bag. A woman with purple hair came out of a downstairs room and shook her fist at them. One of them pretended to unzip his fly, which sent her scurrying back inside.

"Here?" Taylor echoed.

Rex snickered. "No doubt this was the inspiration for Elvis's first big hit, 'Heartbreak Hotel,' although I should think as many heads have been broken here as hearts." He pushed back his jacket cuff and made a production of studying his wristwatch. "The time is exactly four-seventeen, in case anyone's interested."

"So I owe you twenty bucks," muttered Stormy. "Big fuckin' deal."

Baggins parked in front of the office. "Now listen up," he said, grinning like he'd wangled guest rooms in Graceland, "you came for the Elvis experience, not some sanitized tour. Sure, we could stay at the Holiday Inn or the Ramada, but C'Mon Tours is dedicated to giving you more than that. If everybody'll sit tight, I'll be right back with your room keys." He glanced up at the balcony. "It might not be real wise to get out and stretch your legs just yet. Won't take me but a minute to get us checked in."

Estelle licked her lips, trying to think what a perky escort might say in this situation. "So Elvis stayed here. Isn't that exciting?"

"I'm about to wet my pants," said Cherri Lucinda, "but not from excitement. Do you think this hellhole has indoor plumbing?"

"Of course it does," Estelle said firmly. "Like Baggins said, it's part of the Elvis experience."

Stormy smirked at her. "Are fleas and bedbugs part of it, too? I'll bet we're the first people since nineteen fifty-three to rent rooms by the night. Everybody else does it by the hour or the month."

The other pilgrims were still pondering this when Baggins slid open the van door. "We're all set. I'll get your bags out of the back and give you your room keys. After that, you're on your own till nine o'clock tomorrow morning, when we head for Graceland."

"What about this so-called complimentary breakfast?" asked Estelle.

"You can get coffee and doughnuts in the lobby. If you want something more, there are a couple of restaurants within walking distance. Should be safe at that hour, but you ladies need to mind your purses."

They climbed down out of the van and formed a huddle as Baggins pulled seven identical orange and green duffel bags from a compartment. Storage space being at a premium, each of the travelers had been warned that he or she could take no other luggage, so most of the duffel bags were bulging.

Rex Malanac grabbed his, accepted a key, and hurried toward the end of the building, looking up every so often at the men on the balcony. Todd picked up a bag and, after Taylor hissed at him, a second one and dutifully followed her into a room.

"Hanks?" said Baggins, turning over tags. "Oppers?"

"I'll get 'em," Estelle said. "Come along, Ruby Bee. We'll get settled and have ourselves a nice rest."

"I want to find a drugstore," said Stormy as she lit a skinny brown cigarette and looked at Baggins. "Assuming you can suggest one that won't be robbed two seconds after I walk in the door."

"You should be okay as long as it's light outside. Won't be any gunfire until ten, maybe eleven tonight."

Ruby Bee clutched Estelle's arm. "Let's find our room -- okay?"

Estelle took a key from Baggins and hustled Ruby Bee along until they arrived at the door of #12. "Just think of it," she said with as much enthusiasm as she could choke out as she opened the door, "this may be the very room that Elvis slept in."

"He didn't sleep all that well," Ruby Bee said, eyeing the swaybacked double bed. A cobweb hung from the cracked light fixture in the ceiling. Even from the doorway, she could see the dingy porcelain in the bathroom and a wet towel on the floor. "This is awful, Estelle, and what's more, I'm afraid to set foot outside until morning. What are we gonna do about supper?"

Estelle managed a smile. "Oh, it's not so bad. We can put on our pajamas, turn on the TV, and order a pizza. That way, you can be ready for Graceland in the morning. I can hardly wait to see Elvis's house and cars and airplanes? The last time Charlaine was here she bought a tea towel with Elvis's picture and a set of beer mugs depicting Graceland in all the seasons. In the winter, there was snow on the gate, and in the spring -- "

"I'm not hungry." Ruby Bee went into the bathroom and locked the door with a loud click.

"Excuse me," said Estelle as she put down their duffel bags. "I don't recollect begging you to come on this trip, Ms. High and Mighty. The Flamingo Motel ain't exactly the Ritz."

"What?" Ruby Bee said from the bathroom. "You say something about the Flamingo?"

"No, I was just looking up the number of a pizza place." She picked up a telephone directory, glumly noted its thickness, and put it down. She wasn't smitten with the notion of walking around after dark in hopes they'd find a café, but the cheeseburgers they'd had for lunch at a truck stop wouldn't hold them till morning. Especially not Ruby Bee, who'd taken only a couple of bites before pushing hers aside.

She was still perched on the end of the bed, fretting and gnawing her lip, when she heard a rap on the door. Despite the urge to duck into the closet, she made herself open the door.

Cherri Lucinda fluttered her fingers. "Stormy's insisting we go out so she can buy a few things. Can we bring you and your friend something to eat? She looks mighty wan, like my sister-in-law did just before she was diagnosed with liver cancer. Three months later she was in an urn on the mantel."

"Ruby Bee doesn't have anything wrong with her?" Estelle retorted, then realized she'd spoken too loudly and lowered her voice. "This is sweet of you, though, and we'd dearly appreciate a couple of sandwiches and cans of soda pop. Are you sure it's safe to walk around here?"

"No, but Stormy's going whether or not I do, and I figure two's safer than one. I was gonna ask Todd the Clod to go with us, but I knocked on their door and nobody answered. Same with that professor, although I don't think he could scare off a wino, much less a mugger. About all he could do is recite poetry."

"Come inside so I can get you some money," Estelle said, keeping her fingers crossed that Ruby Bee'd stay in the bathroom for a few more minutes. "You think ten will cover it?"

"Yeah." Cherri Lucinda stopped in front of the mirror and scowled at her reflection. "I can't believe all the gray hairs I'm getting at my age. Didn't you say you're a cosmetologist?Maybe one night you could put on a rinse for me, and trim the split ends while you're at it."

Estelle was going to point out that as a professional, she expected to get paid, but then she thought about the sandwiches and soda pops Cherri Lucinda had offered to fetch. "I don't have my scissors with me. Otherwise, I'd be tickled pink."

"You think I'd look better with bangs?"

"I'm not so sure. Your face is already kinda plump, and bangs tend to -- " She stopped as a fist pounded the door. "Oh my gawd, what should we do? What if it's some drug-crazed rapist?"

"Plump?" said Cherri Lucinda.

Ruby Bee poked her head out of the bathroom. "What in tarnation's going on, Estelle? Stop gaping like a wide-mouthed bass and open the door before whoever it is breaks it down?"

Estelle opened the door. Before she could so much as get out a squeak, Stormy stumbled into the room, shoved her aside, and slammed the door shut. Once she'd locked the deadbolt, she seemed to notice her stunned audience.

"Sorry if I scared you all," she said with a weak laugh that wouldn't have fooled a newborn baby. "I was waiting for Cherri Lucinda out by the van, and all of a sudden ... "

Estelle felt her knees begin to buckle. "A drug-crazed rapist attacked you? Are you hurt?"

"You'd better sit down," said Cherri Lucinda. "You don't want to faint and bang your head and have to get stitches. When that happened to me, they shaved half my head and I had to wear a wig for three months."

"Poppycock," Ruby Bee muttered as she closed the bathroom door.

Stormy sat on a chair. "Nobody attacked me. I just got real nervous on account of all these lowlifes lurking nearby. Considering what we're paying, you'd think we could stay somewhere halfway decent. I don't care if Elvis was born here, much less spent one night more than forty years ago. It ain't like there's a rack of postcards in the office." She went to the window, peered through the dusty slats of the venetian blind, and after a moment, said, "My imagination must be earning time-and-a-half. There's nobody out there."

Estelle went over to see for herself, nearly tripping over a duffel bag on the floor. Hers and Ruby Bee's were next to the bed where she'd set them earlier. "Whose is this?" she asked.

Stormy picked it up. "Mine. I was afraid to leave it in the room. You never know who might have a key." She looked at Cherri Lucinda. "You ready to go? I'd just as soon not be out there in the combat zone after dark."

"Here's some money," said Estelle. "Any kind of sandwich will be fine, as long as it's not barbecue. Ruby Bee seems to be experiencing a touch of something, and I don't think she needs to be eating anything spicy."

"I heard that" the accused roared from inside the bathroom.

Cherri Lucinda took the bills from Estelle and unlocked the door. "God willing, we'll be back in half an hour. You might ought to use the chain as well as the deadbolt. Those two guys on the balcony are still hanging around."

As soon as they'd left, Estelle relocked the door and made sure the chain was secured, then moved back to the window to watch their progress across the parking lot. In spite of Stormy's earlier panic and Cherri Lucinda's warning, nobody seemed to be loitering in the vicinity of the van.

"I don't know why I let you badger me into this," Ruby Bee said as she came out of the bathroom. "The Flamingo may not be the fanciest motel in Stump County, but I make sure to scrub the commodes and collect dirty towels off the floor. When we pull back the bedspread, we're likely to find bloodstains. Maybe Elvis died here."

Estelle ordered herself not to so much as glance at the bed. "Everybody knows he died at Graceland. He's buried there, too, so we don't have to worry about his ghost dropping by for a chat long about midnight. Which side do you want?"

"All I want is a place to stretch out for a few minutes. If I had my druthers, it'd be on my own bed in Maggody, but that ain't going to happen for another three nights."

She didn't pull back the bedspread, but instead lay down, folded her hands, and closed her eyes like she was the featured attraction at a funeral. Estelle figured it wouldn't be wise to launch into 'Love Me Tender,' so she sat down on a chair and unzipped her duffel bag. She'd managed to cram in a change of clothes for each day, along with underwear, pajamas, a toothbrush and toothpaste, several combs and hair clips, and a bottle of her preferred brand of shampoo, but there'd been no way to bring foam rollers and her industrial-sized can of hair spray. C'Mon Tours needs a bigger van, she thought tartly as she hung what she could on the single clothes hanger in the closet.

She thought about turning on the television real low, but she couldn't tell if Ruby Bee was asleep or playing possum and waiting for the chance to start complaining again. She finally went back to the window and peeked through the slats, her fingers crossed that Cherri Lucinda and Stormy had found a place nearby and might be on their way back.