Chapter 12 – July 1, 1993 – Camille
Sarcott, Pennsylvania. I never knew this place existed, and if I did, I never imagined I’d be there.
We got lucky on intoxicated moonshiners in Kentucky and made our way to West Virginia, and finally ended up in a cheap motel in a shady little town in the armpit of the USA. It had been about a little under two months since I embraced Erich’s unknown.
I was uneasy there. I would’ve liked to drive further, but the tank was low and we needed to get back to business.
While we were getting farther away from Belham and the family manor that betrayed me, I was beginning to make connections between the people of Sarcott and the people of Belham.
The small town people seemed to be the same no matter where in the country we went.
When we arrived that night, we decided to check into the shady motel right off the highway before making our way to the bar down the street.
Our drive wasn’t long so much as tedious, trying to read the signs and remember the directions.
I didn’t know how to drive, so the best I could do was try to help with directions, though I was clueless in that department as well.
The lobby smelled of stale tobacco and bleach.
The front desk man was tall and spindly and had thin blonde hair and dark bags under his eyes that stared through my oversized Nirvana shirt and mom jeans as we approached him.
When he smiled to greet us, he revealed yellow teeth.
If the bleach didn’t burn my nostrils, I imagined he smelled like sweat and microwaved meatloaf.
“What’s your cheapest room available?” Erich asked without a greeting, cutting straight to the point to avoid a lengthy conversation with the man, whose name tag read “Phil.”
“Depends.” Phil’s eyes wavered from Erich, then over Erich’s shoulder to me. A crooked smile stretched his face, threatening to pull the skin from his cheekbones with its tightness. “You sleeping, or are you interested in hearing about the under-the-table deals?”
I was unable to look him in the eyes from my safe position behind Erich.
His voice made my blood curdle. Instead, I inched closer to Erich, either for a human shield or for some sort of explanation.
Erich didn’t tense up in the same way I did.
He was unbothered by the comment, but if there was one thing I learned about him over the course of a month, it was that Erich knew how to keep his composure.
His poker face was one of his greatest talents.
“Sleeping. We’re just passing through.” He slid $20 over the counter. It was more than enough to pay for the room and buy the clerk’s silence.
The man picked it up cautiously and held it up to the fluorescent light above him to check its authenticity. “Could make a lot of money if you changed your mind. We’re always looking for smaller girls like her…”
Smaller girls like her? My face grew warm as I winced. To this man, I wasn’t there. I was objectified—nothing more than a circus animal, and Erich was my ringleader. Whatever this “under-the-table deal” was did not spell out good news to me.
“We don’t need it.” Erich spoke clearly and without hesitation. He held out his hand over the desk, waiting for the key Phil hadn’t yet grabbed.
Phil frowned, straightening his tie as he rose from his chair and turned to the cabinet with the keys dangling behind him. He plucked one set off the rack and dropped it into Erich’s hand, the keys jingling from the drop. His eyes moved from the keys clenched in Erich’s fist back to me.
“What’s your take, miss? You’d have a lot of fun with us. We take care of our girls…” His eyes glimmered coldly, locking with mine. An easy target. “Don’t let your boyfriend make all the decisions around here.”
I shook my head in response. If I spoke, my voice would crack, and I was already under the microscope.
Erich tugged on my wrist, signaling the end of our conversation with the pervy desk attendant.
He didn’t let go as we walked the halls in silence.
He practically dragged me as I struggled to make my legs move through the terror of our interaction with Phil.
We turned a few corners before we reached the worn wooden door to the room we would stay in for the night.
The number plate read “103,” but with the crack down the middle, the number appeared cursed.
I started to feel a strange bubbling in my stomach as Erich unlocked the door.
Before he could swing it open and allow me to step inside, a cold sweat ran through my body and I shoved his arm to the side, darting underneath him to get to the bathroom.
I didn’t bother slamming the bathroom door shut behind me as I practically fell onto the toilet, letting loose the cheeseburger I nearly cried over earlier in the day.
There was a comforting presence as Erich kneeled beside me, taking what he could of my hair and holding it behind my head with the same care my brother would have reserved for me several years earlier when the stomach bug made its rounds at school.
Before I could get up and assure him I was alright, I was hit with another wave of nausea and buried my head in the toilet I had destroyed seconds before.
I panted heavily afterward, letting the remaining vomit drip from my lips into the toilet.
I spit, trying to speed the process of the single strand while also trying to avoid tasting it and repeating my sick spell.
The smell alone was stirring, fit to drop me again, but I held back long enough for Erich to let go of my hair and stand up.
He made his way over to the sink and filled one of the tiny paper cups the hotel offered with water.
He took his place by my side again before handing it over.
I took it and drained it in seconds, eliminating the rancid taste in my mouth. I could feel the sweat dripping from my forehead down my temples. With that, I was also excruciatingly aware of Erich’s concern burning into me.
“It’s nothing,” I spoke through the silence, my voice raspy.
I dropped the empty paper cup on the checkered linoleum floor, receiving a hollow “thud” in response as it rolled past my feet.
I moved from my knees to a sitting position and leaned my back against the bathtub to meet the eyes of my friend.
My hair started to cling to my forehead, bonding with the sweat.
Erich raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t call that ‘nothing’.”
I shook my head slowly, careful not to trigger another nauseous spell as I brought my knees to my chest and freed a sweat-drenched strand of hair from my face. “Really, I’ll be fine. I’m feeling better. I probably ate something bad.”
Those damned blue eyes were threatening to reveal my truths as Erich watched me in judgmental silence. He was calling my bluff, and I knew I’d soon fold like a ship hitting an iceberg. Truth be told, I didn’t exactly feel awful once I finished throwing up—but I didn’t feel great either.
“You’re staying here for the night,” Erich decided with a tone of finality as he rose to his feet to leave the bathroom.
“What? No, you need me out there.” From the fetal position, with my knees to my chest, I fell forward on my hands and knees as I reached out for the tail of his jacket to stop him. “Really, I’m fine.”
With my grip on his jacket, Erich paused in the doorframe.
There was enough pause that I thought maybe he considered what I said as I watched his shoulder blades move beneath the jacket.
“I’ve been on my own many times before. I’ll be fine.
” He turned to me, eyes glimmering with mischief as he affectionately messed up my hair further. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
My lips turned into a small, pouty frown as I let go of his jacket. “You won’t make enough for two people,” I tried to convince him.
“Your lack of faith breaks my heart.”
I sighed in defeat, ready to accept his reasoning and stay in the motel alone. But then I thought of where we were. And Phil. Who was to say he didn’t have a spare key to this room? The idea of him showing up when I didn’t have Erich around caused my stomach to turn again.
“I can’t stay here alone.” I collected myself off the floor as Erich turned to give me a questioning side-eye.
“Creepy desk attendant? I mean, I probably threw up out of anxiety over him in the first place. And look at this door.” I motioned toward the motel door with my left hand. “If he doesn’t have a spare key, he can definitely push it hard enough for it to open.”
Erich watched as I turned the bathroom sink on to scrub my hands free of whatever grime might be on the bathroom floor. I pumped some soap into my hands and glanced up at him in the mirror as he started to rub his temples and close his eyes, deep in thought.
“Fair point,” he muttered before dropping his hands. “Puke in my car, and we’re going to have a problem.”
I scoffed as I twisted the sink knob back into position and shook my hands free of water before finding the hand towel. “I’ll grab a plastic bag, but I’m sure that was it.”