Blood Bound

Chapter 19: The Sunset Motel

My eyes hurt.

They're dry from fatigue and are on the verge of closing.

I've been driving for a few hours now, the visor down to keep me shielded from the rising rays of the sun, and I feel I'm getting more exhausted by the minute.

Surprisingly, I was relieved that driving was a bit easy. Not many cars are around during the night so I wasn't worried that I might swerve and accidentically crash into one in the cover of night.

But things are different now. It's morning and some people might have to take this road on the commute to work. And I bet, some of them might find it weird to see a car without licence plates pass them. And that's not the worst of it. I become extremely nervous when there's traffic. I find it amazing that I actually managed to get a driver's permit in Anchorage, with its traffic and the annoying trouble behind it. Maybe the teacher took pity on me and let me pass the practical exam. Either way, I'm so not prepared for morning traffic.

I haven't had much luck finding shelter for us. I've passed by some forests but they were either too small or not dense enough to hide the car completely out of sight. I passed a lot of road motels though, where some trucks and smaller cars were parked for the night.

I really want to stop at the nearest one and sleep on a comfortable bed. It feels so long since I have touched a smooth, cotton linen with my bare hands. No more camping. The longer I drive, the more I dwell on the idea and it becomes increasingly tempting. The lure of soft pillows, covers, and blankets piling on top of a beautiful wooden bed is too strong. I pass by a sign saying there's a motel 30 miles ahead.

I'm too tired.

I make my decision and give into temptations.

If Sophie gets mad at me, I'll just tell her that keeping me well rested is vital to our journey. It's a long shot, I know, but I desperately need sleep!

I see it on the horizon and the first thing that pops into my mind is how quaint it looks! It's nothing like the motels I've seen in movies or the dingy ones I've already passed by. The more closer I approach it, the more I see that instead of being a long block of building, they're actually small cabins that are scattered throughout the land and forest area on the side of the road, with the largest wooden house up front. It's got a red painted roof and mahogany wood exterior that is so smoothly polished that I feel bad for it to be stranded here in the middle of nowhere, instead of being the centerpiece of a homely town.

As I park the car in front of the large house, I rub my eyes, just to make sure I'm not dreaming. It's still there, looking absolutely beautiful. I look around and I notice that the smaller ones are in fact miniature versions of the large one. I also notice that there are not many cars parked, only two others besides mine; a green Subaru jeep and a silver Hyundai convertible.

With that few cars around, there must be vacancy. I get out of the car, make sure that Sophie is properly covered, not only by the sleeping bag but I place our backpacks on top of her as well, and then I hesitantly approach the motel entrance. The mahogany door is beautifully carved into arches of leaves and tree branches and the bronze, antique door handle is so shiny that I'm afraid my grimy hands will permanently stain it.

I quickly wipe my hands on the hem of my sweater and grab the handle, giving the door a push as I enter.

The interior is just as magical as the exterior. A big, cushy antique looking sofas and armchairs are by the fireplace and seem to be begging people to sit on them. The floor is laden with patterned carpets that look so soft that I'm tempted to take off my shoes and socks and walk around on my bare feet. The walls are lined with watercolor landscape paintings of different sizes, but not so much that they overcrowd the place.