THE SANCTUARY (10 page)

“We’re not getting in a truck with a guy who looks like a homicidal maniac so kindly keep moving,” Liz said, using her hand to shoo him away.

“Bunch of stuck-up bitches!” he yelled before gunning the truck up the road, leaving them cloaked in a cloud of dust.

“You should have been more tactful, Liz. He could have pulled out a knife or gun and killed us. You never think before you act or speak,” Julia scolded.

“He might have killed
you
, but no way was that loser taking me out. I didn’t survive eighteen days in the Amazon jungle to get killed by that nimrod,” Liz disagreed.

“So if this angry redneck had pulled a gun on us, what exactly
were
you going to do? Hit him over the head with your designer shoes?” Sonya asked.

“My mom would have figured something out,” Grace said defensively.

“Let’s not worry about what ifs. There’s enough on our plate to worry about. We’re not making good time on this hike. So, I want to warn y’all that we are getting into the next vehicle that stops to offer us a ride—no matter what he looks like or what kind of vehicle it is,” Lydia warned.

A few minutes later, an old farmer with a truck full of chicken coops pulled over to offer assistance.

“Ain’t much room back there and the smell might offend you, but if you can handle it, I’ll gladly give you a ride. I’m sorry, but I only got room for one of you up front.”

“You got to be kidding me,” Liz mumbled under her breath.

“Thank you. We accept your kind offer,” Lydia said as she started to climb in beside him.

“Whoa, I don’t think so,” Sonya said. “Why should you get to sit up front rather than one of us?”

“I think it should be me since I’m all dressed up,” Julia said.

“And what am I wearing, Miss Thing? A potato sack?” Liz said, pointing to her designer duds.

“I think the youngest should sit up front,” Grace argued.

“All right, fine. We’ll
all
sit in the back with the chickens. Happy?” Lydia asked sarcastically as she closed the passenger door and walked around to the back of the truck. She carefully positioned herself between a slobbering black Lab and a stack of chicken cages.

“Happy is not the word I would use,” Julia said as she plopped down next to Lydia.

“Are you sure about this?” Liz whispered as she and Sonya climbed into the truck bed.

“We’ll be fine,” Lydia said with as much confidence as she could manage.

“Gross,” Grace said as the big, drooling dog licked her face.

“I think those were the last words of the Donner party,” Liz said as the truck lurched forward and they clung nervously to each other.

A few minutes later, Sonya shouted so that she could be heard over the noise of the wind and clucking chickens, “Hey, do you know what this reminds me of?”

“Hell?” Liz shouted.

“Think about the last time you were up close with live chickens,” Sonya said.

“The Gamecocks Homecoming Parade,” Lydia and Julia shouted in unison.

“Yes! It was our junior year at USC and Liz talked us into being on one of the homecoming floats, and we stupidly thought it sounded like fun,” Sonya said.

It was a homecoming tradition that all the sororities and fraternities create parade floats. Liz’s boyfriend
du jour
had been a member of Sigma Nu and he had talked her into standing at the front of the float wearing a sexy farmer’s daughter ensemble and waving to the crowd. Liz had talked her friends into joining her on the float. Their float was decorated in a barnyard theme since the USC mascot is a gamecock. Someone from the fraternity had thought it was a good idea to have live animals.

“Stupid is right. Why on earth did we always listen to Liz?” Julia pondered. “That stupid chicken pecked at my foot for most of the ride.”

“You got off light. I had to wear an oversized straw hat, denim overalls with a gamecock embroidered on the front, and hold a pitchfork. I looked absolutely ridiculous,” Sonya said.

“Ah, the good old days,” Liz laughed.

They finally reached the gas station. Over one of the windows hung a sign, “Lynette’s Pit Stop.” Behind two antique gas pumps and the food service station, stood a dilapidated six-room motel. In keeping with the understated theme, the sign above it read, “Motel” but with the letter
T
missing. Underneath the neon sign hung a homemade sign, “CHEAP RATES.”

“Looks like we found home sweet home if the camper can’t be fixed by tonight,” Sonya said as she plucked a couple of feathers from Lydia’s hair.

“It looks like the Bates Motel,” Julia exclaimed.

“What’s the Bates Motel?” Grace asked.

Liz stared at the rundown little building and said grimly, “Let’s hope you don’t find out.”

“Excuse me, are you the mechanic?” Lydia asked sweetly. It seemed a stupid question since he was wearing overalls with grease splotches on them, a nametag sewn onto his shirt that spelled “Boyd,” and was using a wrench to fix something under the hood of an old truck.

Boyd seemed more than a little surprised to see four city women asking for him and appeared to be completely smitten with Julia. He stared at her as a little boy eyes an ice cream cone.

“Our camper broke down just up the road, and we were wondering if you might be so kind as to help us,” Lydia said.

“Are you famous?” he asked Julia, his mouth fairly gaping open in awe. “You sure look like a celebrity.”

Julia was thrown by the question but then realized what she was wearing and why he must have made the assumption.

“No, I was just trying on…”

But Liz cut her off. “My friend’s a little modest. She is a well-known singer but would never forgive me if I told you who she is so we’ll just leave it at that. We were on our way to her next show when we broke down. It would be such a great service you’d be doing if you could help us. I mean, her,” she said pointing to Julia.

“I knew it. You’re too purty and glamorous not to be a singer or somebody important,” he said.

“I shouldn’t have tried to fool you, Boyd. I trust you’ll keep my secret,” Julia cooed, enjoying her newfound attention.

“Step inside and let me buy you something cold to drink while I go see about your vehicle,” Boyd said as he held the door to the Lynette’s Pit Stop open for Julia. Sonya, Liz, and Lydia stood staring at each other.

“We may have created a monster,” Liz said.

“If she can bewitch Boyd into fixing our camper, I can live with that,” Lydia said.

Four hours later, no one was in the mood for jokes. Boyd had managed to tow the camper back to the service station after a great deal of effort. He had called his cousin and a friend to help hook up the camper to the back of the truck. He explained to Julia how dangerous it was for him to have done this since his truck wasn’t meant to tow anything that big. Julia expressed her gratitude with a huge smile and a light, flirtatious touch on his arm. Boyd seemed appreciative of the gesture. He gave her a toothy grin in response. After poking under the hood for a long time, Boyd announced the radiator coil was shot. He said that he could get one if he went to Canby, a little town on the border of Minnesota and South Dakota. It would take about an hour’s drive and then another hour or so to install it.

They sent him on his way, thanking him profusely as he pulled out. They went into the greasy spoon to get something to eat and wait. An inhospitable woman waited on them.

“What did we do to her?” Sonya whispered as the waitress walked away after taking their orders without speaking or smiling.

“I think she’s just got a case of jealousy,” Liz said, loud enough for the woman to hear.

“Sshhh. She’ll hear you and spit in our food or something,” Julia said.

“I don’t care if she hears me. She was rude, and I think she lied when she said they don’t have fat-free mayonnaise.”

“Look around, Liz. Where do you think you are? Do you really think she was lying about the mayonnaise? Does this crowd look like it cares about low-fat mayo?” Lydia said.

“They don’t look like they’ve ever heard of low-fat mayonnaise,” Grace said as she studied the crowd. “Or lean cuisine or diet cola or deodorant or a razor or comb.”

“Why bother with fat-free mayonnaise?” Sonya asked. “Once you take all the good stuff out, you’re better off skipping it.”

“I agree. Low-fat mayonnaise doesn’t taste right. It will ruin egg salad every time. Of course if you don’t use Duke’s mayo, it’s ruined already,” Julia said.

“Enough about the damn mayonnaise. Let’s just get the RV fixed and get out of here,” Lydia said.

It was not going to be that easy. Boyd found the part he needed and fixed the RV. As he was finishing up, he told them that they could go ahead and pay the bill. That way they would be ready to go by the time he finished.

“That’ll be $617,” the waitress/cashier said.

“That seems a little high for a radiator coil, doesn’t it?” Lydia asked.

“That price includes the tow bill, labor, and parts. Boyd had to pay those two men to help him get your camper here, and he had to drive all the way to Canby to get the part.”

“Don’t quibble, Lydia. Just pay it,” Sonya said.

“All right,” Lydia said, handing her credit card to the woman.

“Cash,” she said.

“I beg your pardon?” Lydia asked.

“Cash only,” she said, pointing with her thumb to the sign on the wall behind her. It read “We only accept cash.”

“Excuse me just a minute, please,” Lydia said and steered the others across the room. “How much cash has everyone got? I’ve only got $94 and two credit cards.”

Boyd had managed to unlock the RV without too much trouble before he took it into the service bay. They had grabbed their purses and were now pooling their money. They only had a total of $456.

“I never carry much cash,” Liz said. “Not a good idea to have a wad of cash on you in third-world countries. I use my credit card and accumulate reward points.”

“I had $800 when we started, but I guess I’ve spent most of it,” Julia said apologetically.

“Me too,” Sonya said.

“We seem to be a little short on cash and were wondering if you might make an exception to your policy,” Lydia asked.

“Nope. No exception. We ain’t set up to take no credit cards.”

“Plan B,” Liz announced. “Julia, go out there and sweet-talk Boyd into taking a credit card or reducing the bill to $456.”

Julia looked doubtful but realized this was their only option. In a few minutes, she came back with Boyd. Boyd and the woman began to discuss the matter. As their voices grew louder, the women could easily hear their argument.

“Please, Lynette, be reasonable. I already told the young lady that I would take care of this misunderstanding,” Boyd said.

“Ain’t no misunderstanding. I’m not confused about the bill and neither are they. And I don’t care what you told that prissy one in the slutty dress. We ain’t giving no discount. They look to me like they got plenty of money. Look at how they’re dressed and that big fancy camper. They’ll come up with the money once they realize they can’t sweet-talk their way out of this,” Lynette said emphatically.

Boyd walked away looking like he had left his manhood behind. He wouldn’t even look at Julia when he spoke, “I’m sorry, but my wife won’t make any deals. I tried, but I’m just the mechanic and handyman. She runs the motel, diner, and gas station.”

“That’s your wife?” Lydia asked incredulously. After witnessing her husband fawning all over Julia, and Julia using it to her advantage, they realized that Lynette wasn’t going to be in any mood to help them out.

“Now what?” Sonya asked miserably after Boyd went back inside the garage. It was obvious that he wasn’t in charge and wasn’t about to cross his wife.

Liz had left them to talk to some customers so that she could find out a few things. She rejoined them to report, “More bad news. The closest bank is in Canby, and it’ll be closed by the time we would get there. There’s no western union office around here or any other way we can receive cash or get a cash advance from one of our credit cards. The only option we have is if someone will lend us the money or we catch a ride to the bank to get a wire transfer or cash advance off our credit cards. I was talking to that guy over there, and he said that he would take us to Canby tomorrow to get the money.”

“What do we do tonight? That witch owns the only motel in this no man’s land. I’m sure she’s not going to give us a room knowing that we don’t have any money,” Julia said.

Once Lydia explained their plan to go to Canby the next day and get the money to pay their bill, Lynette softened a bit. Or more likely, she realized that was more money she’d make off their misfortune. Lynette said she would let them stay in one of the motel’s rooms for the night and would add the cost to their bill.

“Charming,” Sonya said wryly when they saw their accommodations.

“You got to be kidding me,” Julia said.

“What a dump,” Liz said.

“It’s only one night,” Lydia said.

The room was small and dimly lit with only one floor lamp and a table lamp. There were two double beds, a fold-out couch, a nightstand, and a television set that looked like something from the 1950s. Upon closer inspection, the polyester bedspreads were worn, and one had a couple of cigarette burns in it. The room needed painting, and although the carpet was clean, traces of stains could be seen.