Melody (Logan 1)

Archie raised his right forefinger.

"That's one," he said.

"One what?" I asked.

"Complaint. One more and you're our gopher for the whole trip."

"Very funny," I said with my hands on my hips. "But what about the door?"

His laugh wound down like a dying lawn mower as he approached to inspect it. "When you close it," he said after a moment, "just lift up on the handle."

"Thank you."

I took hold of the door handle and stepped back into the bathroom, closing the door as he had instructed. It still didn't close tightly, but it would have to do. I heard them both giggling again.

When I stepped out, I saw Archie had a bottle of gin and he was pouring some into two glasses. "This oughta take the chill out," he said.

They tapped glasses and swallowed.

"I just noticed there's no television set in the room," Mommy said. "Did you bring something t

o read, Melody?"

"No. We left home too quickly, remember? I had to leave my books behind anyway because there was no room in the suitcases," I complained. Archie leapt to his feet.

"That's two! Two complaints! You're the gopher." Mommy laughed. They clinked glasses again.

"We really need something to mix this with, don't you think, Haille?"

"It would help," she said.

Archie dug into his pocket and produced two dollars.

"Why don't you run down to the motel office and get us a can of tonic water or some ginger ale." Archie thrust the money my way. "Stay under the overhang and you won't get wet."

I looked at Mommy. She sat on the bed, a wide grin on her face. "Be a good sport, honey."

I plucked the bills from Archie's hand and grabbed my coat on the way out the door, thinking I needed to get away from them for a while anyway. Their laughter followed as I slammed the door behind me.

Looking around, I saw how dreary the motel was. The parking lot was torn up in many spots, and the neon sign had some letters burnt out. Closing my coat tightly around myself, I hurried under the overhang, noticing as I went that there apparently were other empty rooms.

The office was small. Inside was a red imitation leather settee with slits and cracks in it, a worn cushioned chair, a coffee table, and the counter, behind which sat a short, bald man. He had long, bushy eyebrows and thick lips that looked as pale as day-old dead worms.

When he smiled, I saw he was missing a lot of teeth. "How can I help you?" he asked.

"I need a can of tonic, please."

"The machine's broke, but I got some in the fridge back here," he said, indicating a room behind his office. "Just tonic water?"

"Yes, please."

"One minute."

He brought it out and I paid him a dollar. I noticed the pay phone on the wall behind the settee.

"Can I have change for the phone, please?"

"Sure thing."