Paradise on the Plains

I am no sooner out of the valley when I see Halcyon in the distance. The little towns and farms out here on the plains always stood out as dark green splotches on the landscape as they were the only places in this arid region where larger trees grew in any number. And with the ‘twin towers’ standing above the canopy the community appeared as a beacon of civilization.

No more than a minute later my phone chimes to life as the messages and notices from the previous couple of hours catch up to me all at once as it catches signal once more. Grabbing it I give it a glance to ensure there was nothing from my family. There wasn’t. And the clock shows I still had an hour and a half before it was 8 back home. As I suspected the messages were just a friend reaching out and a couple of gals I’d left in my wake looking for a good time. I cringe as I see that the most texts had come from Denise, the woman whose bed I had slept in the night before, telling me about her broken relationship and the devastation I’d left behind. I did feel bad, genuinely guilty, but I had needed a place to lay my head. How was I supposed to know she had a boyfriend? Sure, there were clues. A lot of clues. I mean, I would have had to been blind not to figure it out. But it wasn’t my fault she decided to fuck around on him! Unconsciously my foot presses the gas a little deeper as I remembered my panicked escape that morning with Denise’s burly beau hot on my heels. With a sigh and a shake of my head I put my phone back down and focus back on the road, though with as straight as this highway was I could have read texts all the way into town and not had to turn the wheel.

Annoyingly, thoughts of that strange woman are still niggling at the back of my mind as approach the outskirts. I shake my head to banish the thoughts but they are still there afterward. She’d been so mysterious, so beautiful, so…broken. I shake my head my again more vigorously. “Jesus!” I grumble to myself. “Why do I always do this? I got enough of my own problems without thinking about some random nutcase. And a rude one at that.” Despite myself I glance at the rearview and wonder again how she was doing.

I roll past the welcome sign, the paint cracking and baked gray under the South Dakota sun. It reads: ‘Halcyon: Paradise on the Plains’, and a separate board attached to it’s base reads: ‘Boys Division B State Baseball Champions, 1994’. Halcyon was one of those annoying little towns that straddled the highway, forcing traffic to slow, instead of doing the polite thing and sitting off to the side so the rest of the world could zip by in peace. I had to stop here anyway so it made no difference to me.

The highway that ran through the community also looked to act as its main street as I could see a series of businesses running along either side. The one gas station I could see sat right at the edge of town across from a faded old motel. Beside the gas station was a Chinese restaurant, all these little towns had a nearly identical Chinese restaurant, this one called ‘The Great Wall’. Beyond that under the shade of the tall elms that lined the streets was a bank and further down a pub-pizza joint and hardware store. It was the type of place that was big enough to have all the necessities, but only one of each. In architecture and vibe it was indistinguishable from the last town I’d been and likely just the same as the next. Despite it being unremarkable…I liked it. The lawns were mowed, bright flowerbeds surrounded the flag pole beside the town office, and as I rolled into town limits a local codger on a quad gave me a friendly wave. While the town was likely past its best, which I would guess happened right around 1994, it hadn’t yet given up entirely like so many of its neighbors. There was also something about the grandiose name for this little map dot that suggested that this town was founded by dreamers. I couldn’t help but admire the spirit.

I roll into the gas station and park by the pumps. As the rotund attendant slowly wanders out of the store I check my wallet again for a hopeful recount. Thirty bucks. Should have been more had I not been fleeced back there by that woman. I needed 25 to confidently get into Rapid City, but that only left me five to quell my growling belly. There was nothing for it though.

I step out of my car fully intending on asking for the twenty five when two things catch my notice. The first, a red notice in the window of the motel across the street that read ‘Help Wanted’. The second…four of my very favorite words in the English language emblazoned on a sign in front of The Great Wall. ‘All You Can Eat’! Below that the buffet price is listed at ‘only’ 15 dollars. A rumble shakes my belly as my calculations begin to shift. My goal today was Rapid City…but it’s not like I had anything there waiting for me. I’d only chosen the city over the country because I thought finding some temporary employment would be easier there. I’d had a plan but…plans change. When you’re living on the road you had to nimble enough to catch every passing opportunity that presented itself.

“Hey, pal.” The man says in a slight Western drawl. “What’ll it be?”

“Uh…” My eyes dart back and forth between the motel and the restaurant, my stomach gurgling again as I catch a sniff of deep-fried heaven on the breeze. “Gimme a minute.”

With the confused attendant watching on I hastily comb my hair, check it in the side mirror, then jog across the to old motel. He calls after me. “Hey…”

“Just be a minute!” I call back to him. “Hey! Whose the boss over here?”

“Ya mean Barb?”

“Barb. Got it.”

The motel’s name was…‘Motel’. If it ever had another moniker there was no sign of it. The two-story building itself was made from sandy beige bricks with the office being a more recent wooden addition, though recent only by comparison as it looked older than I was. The doors to all the rooms faced the street and the parking lot in front was sparsely filled with just a trio of vehicles, two trucks and a van, all of them older than my hand-me-down family Honda.

Without delay I step into the office to the jangle of bells. Snatching the sign from out of the front window I bring it to the desk. Through a half open door beyond the desk I hear an episode of Family Feud playing.

The voice of an older woman calls out. “Be right there! Hold on!”

Waddling through the door comes a sturdy gray-haired woman in her late 60’s with large square slightly tinted glasses wearing a garish teal and pink muumuu dress. Her movement did not come easily and she had to sort of rock her whole body from side to side to walk. Despite having her glasses on she squints to make out my face.

“Well you’re a handsome devil, ain’tcha?”

I grin. This job was already in the bag.

“Barb! You flatterer.” I tease. “If I was five years younger I might just sweep you off your feet.”

“HA!” She laughs, caught of guard that I knew her name. “If you were five years younger you’d still be on your Momma’s titty.”

With a chortle I quip. “I’m not THAT young!”

“Is that an accent I’m hearing, young man?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Georgia, born and raised. Was just passing through your great state when I thought, darn it…why don’t I stay awhile?” Laying the sign on the desk I say my most polite tone. “I saw your sign out front. I can start right away. I’ll need a room as I’m not from around her but you can feel free to take that off my pay. Cash is fine. Pay after each shift would be perfect. No problems if you want to keep this under the table but I’m happy to give my details if you need.”

Her brows rise at my brazen ‘application’. “Cool your jets there, boy.”

“Sorry.” I say, extending my hand. “The name’s Dusty Radley. I’m not shy with people and handy to have around. I can patch a wall or fix a leaky pipe, no problem. You can trust me with the cash box, never had a problem that way. I got references if you need, though nothing up to date as I’ve been traveling awhile.”

Barb looks me up and down then tentatively shakes my hand. “You certainly ain’t shy, that part is true.”

“It’s all true.” I grin. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Barb. My Momma used to wash my mouth out with Irish Spring if she caught me fibbing. Awful tasting stuff.”

Barb shakes her head, clearly amused, then looks at me a moment as her gears turned, then asks. “Traveling, you say? What’s to say you won’t keep traveling after a day or two.”

“Nothing.” I answer bluntly but truthfully. “I’ll be honest with you, I’m not planning to settle down here or anything. But I’m in no rush to leave.”

“A drifter?”

“Figuring some things out. Figured I might as well see the country while I do it. Dad calls it wanderlust, Mom says I never could sit still for very long.”

“Running from the law?”

“No, Ma’am. I’m a good boy.”

“Hrm. I doubt that.” She thinks a moment, taking my measure. “So you got a workin vehicle then?”

“Parked at the pumps across the street.” I point back through the window where the gas attendant and the old man on the quad stood talking in front of my car, about me no doubt. “She runs like a top. Will I need to do supply runs or…”

“They say I’m not supposed to drive no more.” She says. “And since my Earl passed on last year I got nobody to take me over to Bennett for my appointments.” Before I could ask a question she continues. “I could use help getting groceries too. And those beds aren’t getting any easier to change.”

I thought I’d been applying for a front desk position, seems the duties also included taxi, housekeeping, and caretaker services. “I think I can handle that.”

Once more she mulls it over as she studies my smiling freckled face. “Yeah, okay. You’ll be nice to look at if nothin else.”

“Barb!” I wink. “Behave. You’re old enough to be my…big sister.”

“Pah!” Her hand slaps the desk with a guffaw. “Cheeky kid. You said you needed a room?” She asks, taking the sign and tucking it under the desk. Grabbing a key off a hook she hands it over. “Room 212. Sink’s got a god-awful smell I can’t seem to get rid of. Nobody wants that one anyway.”

“Sounds like the P-trap.” I say, scooping up the key. “And if not, I’ll get a nose plug.”

“I dunno what it is, Earl used to take care of all that.” She says. “Quiet after 10. No drugs or funny business. 50 bucks a day and you can keep any tips, room’s included.”

“Do you get many tips?”

“Not many.” She says. “Under the table sounds just fine by me. Saves on paperwork. If the sheriff asks you’re Earl’s cousin here to lend a hand.”

“I can taste that Irish Spring already.”

“You want the job or don’t ya?”

“I’ll take it!” I extend my hand again and we seal the deal with a shake. “So when do I start and what are my hours?”

“You can start tomorrow.” She says. “Hours?” She shrugs. “Whenever you’re needed. Stay handy. Welcome aboard, Dusty.” With that she turns around and waddles back into her suite behind the desk. “Bedding’s in the storage room by the laundry.” The sounds of the game show rise again and I can hear Barb groan as she settles back into her seat.

Tossing the key up I snatch it out of the air again and head back out of the office and across the road. One eye on those four wonderful words on the sign in front of the restaurant I tell the attendant. “Fifteen, my good man!” I’d be eating like king tonight!

As I stand chatting with the big fella, whose name was Terry, as he pumps my gas I notice out of the corner of my eye, rolling into town from the direction I’d just come, a familiar shade of tangerine.