Alice & Dorothy (24 page)

And Alice did.

After Dorothy watched Alice retreat to the safe haven of the bathroom, she could only think of one thing:
You’ve done it again
. All it took was four words and Dorothy’s good mood, like a house of cards stacked on the back of a sleeping dog, came crashing down around her.

She hated the thought of Alice being mad at her. The girl was like a magnet; Dorothy could feel it whenever she was near. She was being dragged along with Alice because her heart and her body felt that pull, like a jar of ball bearings, rolling along toward Alice and unable to stop. Tumbleweeds, maybe, but that didn’t do her feelings justice. Neither did ball bearings. Ball bearings were too cold. What she felt around Alice was white hot and screaming, and it wouldn’t be denied.

She got up and walked over to the door. Waves of Alice’s presence tickled Dorothy’s senses. Her blond haired beauty was inches away, her perfect body pressed tight against the door in case Dorothy tried to open it. Probably looking at herself in the mirror and thinking
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Dorothy pressed her hand against the door. “You sure you don’t need any aspirin or anything?” She said quietly.

“
I’m Fine!
” Alice barked. There was a quick moment of fumbling in the bathroom and then the lock on the door clicked into place. Alice coughed, to cover it up, but the click was louder on
this
side of the door. Everyone knew that.

It was
loudest
in Dorothy’s heart.

Dorothy ran her fingers along the painted faux-grain of the wood. The sound of the lock was like a slap in the face. Rejected, she withdrew and walked instead over to the television. Without thinking she flipped it over to the weather channel.

She wasn’t allowed to watch it in the Hospital because Dr Weller thought it encouraged her to think about tornados. She still thought, sometimes, when the nurses were busy or when Dr Weller was with a patient. It was good to know which way the wind was blowing. Aunt Emily used to say
it pays to be on your toes
. Growing up in the American Midwest had given Old Aunt Emily a keen nose for the weather. She could tell days before a storm hit that one was on the way. Like most old people, she was equipped with built in barometers and weather detectors: her hips ached, her sinuses acted up, and she would get what she termed
The Terrible Arthritis
in her wrists and hands.

Dorothy had never been so blessed, and so had to rely on the science of the weatherman; Low and high pressure fronts, cyclical weather patterns, prevailing winds. And, as Aunt Emily had sometimes said:
When in doubt, open the window and stick your nose in the air
. The sweet, earthy smell of a tornado was mixed with the yellow stink of brimstone. Aunt Emily wouldn’t hear about conflicting pressure systems that funneled topsoil and pollen into the air. A tornado was the work of the devil, through and through.

Auntie Em always laughed at Dorothy’s insistence that tornados started on the ground and were flung into the sky by circumstance.
If that was the case,
the old woman said,
there’d be tornados springing up everywhere. I’d be able to grow ‘em in my garden
.

But she was wrong. Dorothy had science behind her, and all Untie Em had was a million years of homespun country logic. That was fine if you wanted to find the best fishing holes or you needed to know when to plant your crops. Predicting tornados was a science. Hell, it was even more than that. It was a high
art
.

Dorothy heard Alice muttering something in the bathroom but she couldn’t make out the words. She wondered if talking to herself was something Alice did a lot, or whether the stress of the last few days somehow made it worse. The word
crazy
danced across her thoughts, but it was a dirty word that tasted like burnt onions. She pushed it as far back in her brain as she could, until it was grabbed by flying monkeys and disappeared from sight.

The weather man said a warm wet front was coming. Expect rain. Dorothy decided she would go see if she could track down some Tylenol, just in case Alice changed her mind. The woman had saved her life today. She deserved to take it easy.
If that’s not love, I don’t know what is
.

Dorothy grabbed one of the door keys and stepped outside. The weatherman was right; it was definitely getting warmer, and the wind had picked up noticeably. It was crisp and left her skin tingly. She skipped past the other motel rooms and across the parking lot. The main office was just ahead. It was a bland looking stucco building with large windows and cancerous yellow light seeping out into the night air. She sidestepped a puddle and pulled the door open, and a chime rang in a back room somewhere. Behind two panes of glass was a skinny guy in a Charlie Brown shirt. He was watching television with his feet up. A tray of half-eaten chicken wings was sitting on the counter.

“Hey,” he said, looking up. “You need a room?”

“I’m actually here already,” Dorothy said. For a moment she misheard him. She could have sworn he’d said
Back so soon
, but of course that didn’t make sense because she’d never been there before.

“Oh yeah?” the guy said, sitting up. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing you come in.” He cocked an eyebrow and was speaking with a fake accent, like he’d just become involved in a racy secret between the two of them.

“I asked which room,” he said. “I didn’t see you come in, so I can’t be sure if you’re telling the truth or not.” He smiled lewdly at her and winked at some joke Dorothy couldn’t begin to guess at.

“Oh,” Dorothy said. “Umm,” —she pulled a door key out of her pocket.”108.”

“
Denise,
” the guy said, laughing. The phone started ringing. “Hold on a sec.” He picked up the line.

Dorothy stood there a moment, unsure of what to do next. There was a coin machine in the corner full of condiments, however, so she headed toward that.

“Yeah, Blue Moon Motel,” the guy said into the phone. Then: “I just said it was, didn’t I?”

The machine contained shampoo, cigarettes, little bars of soap, and hand sanitizers. There were condoms and antacids. On the top row were Aspirin
and
Tylenol, for the discerning taste.

“I dunno buddy,” the guy behind the counter said. “You gotta be a little more specific than that. They’re all pretty blonds.”

Dorothy half turned. Suddenly the painkillers weren’t so important. Slowing her heart down and being able to breathe again were.

“Last Name?” the guy said. “What?
Presents?
Yeah, I’ll hold on.”

He looked up at Dorothy and shook his head. He brought up his hand like a gun to his temple and pretended to shoot himself with it. Dorothy didn’t respond. She was still trying to stop the boat engine that had suddenly fired up in her chest.
Someone is looking for Alice. Oh god please, no more cops or drug dealers. I’m not sure I can take it.

“That doesn’t sound like anyone who’s been here,” the guy said. “Hold on a sec, I’ll check the roster.”

He pulled the phone down from his face and pushed the receiver against his chest. “You need change for that machine?” he said, smiling at Dorothy.

“
Yeah.
” She shook her head. “I mean
no
. I got some, thanks.”

The guy nodded. He put the phone back to his ear. “Yeah,” he said. “I got nobody here by that name...No. Oh,
Pleasance?
” The guy behind the counter suddenly snapped his fingers and motioned for Dorothy to come to the window. “Wait, he said. Do you mean
Denise?
”

Dorothy’s heart double-flipped in her chest.

“Oh, okay. Well listen pal, if you don’t know who that is then it’s not the right person. No, I’m not gonna put you through to her room...Because it
obviously ain’t
who you’re looking for.
Oh
, Okay. I’m a big asshole then. Yeah, fuck you too.”

He slammed the phone down. “
Christ,
” he said. “This town is full of fuckin’ morons.”

“Yeah,” Dorothy said. She was suddenly too sticky and sweaty, too afraid. The walls and the lights in the room were too yellow. The guy behind the glass looked too much like a caged tiger.

“You get your Tylenol?” the guy said, grinning at her.

“No,” Dorothy said. “I umm—I forgot my change.”

“Ahh, yeah?” the guy said. “Hold on a sec.” He ducked down behind the counter. It was all Dorothy could do to keep from turning on a heel and running out of the room. When he reappeared he had a handful of small packages in his hand. They were single serving Tylenols.

“Here,” he said, tossing them under the slot in the glass.

“Oh,” Dorothy said. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Delivery guy is a fuckin’ moron too. I’ve got a box of these things back here. Besides, you’re my favourite customer.”

“Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t,” the guy said. “You change your mind you let me know,
huh?
”

“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” the guy said. “Say hey to Denise for me. You guys get bored you come back and see me.”

Dorothy didn’t respond. She didn’t trust her voice. Instead she turned and walked out of the room. She could feel the guys eyes on her ass, but she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was get back to Alice.
Or Denise
.

Whoever she was. More importantly, who was on the phone? The hospital? She dismissed the thought immediately. How could they possibly know where they were. Unless they had spies around watching for the girls...

No. That wasn’t possible. The hospital wouldn’t waste their time on something like that for a couple runaways. Either Alice and Dorothy would come back to the ward or they wouldn’t. They didn’t hunt down strays. But the cops might be looking for them. Or worse. Maybe Alice’s druggie boyfriend was looking for them. Either of those might be true. They’d stolen a car, ripped a dealer off for what she figured was a lot of money worth of drugs, and Alice had done something horrible in the hours leading up to her overdose and arrival at The General. There was a solid argument for both scenarios in the basic facts of their past few days together. It could be police or drug dealers. Hell, for all Dorothy knew, it could be both.

Dorothy let out a long breath and hurried across the lot back to their room.
It’s too big for you to handle,
she thought.
Let Alice do it, she’s good at this stuff
. Alice was strong and smart. She was the Lion and Scarecrow in one. She even had hair the colour of the Lion’s fair mane.
Meeting her was more than life affirming. It’s fate. We belong together. Forever.

She reached the door and slipped the electronic key into the slot, and when the light over it turned from red to green she threw the door open.

Alice was sitting on the bed wrapped in a towel. Her hair hung like wet straw across her shoulder. In her lap was the brick of heroin, the corner peeled back and exposed. She looked up when the door opened but made no attempt to cover the drugs.

“Oh hey,” she said, her eyes cloudy and dream-like. “You’re just in time.”

“What’s...going on?” Dorothy shut the door behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Nuthin,” Alice said. “I got sick. My stomach is really doing funny things. And my head is killing me.” She wiped her hair away from her face.

“So...you’re going to do
heroin
to get rid of it?”

Dorothy sat down on the bed beside her and tossed the little packets of Tylenol in front of her. “I got you these.” She folded her arms and looked down at Alice’s thigh. The room smelled like beer and vomit, but Alice smelled clean. Her thigh was a patch of milk white perfection.

Alice leaned over and kissed her cheek. “What a sweetie,” she said.”You want to take a pull of this?”

Dorothy made a sour face. No thanks. I don’t wanna
overdose.
”