FLIGHT OF LYONS

After storming out of the police department, Buddy drove to the hotel. Sitting in the parking lot in the Suburban, he turned off the motor and remained motionless. He had to force his body to move. Thank goodness, Dick had already checked him in and given him the key. There was no way he could have stood in line at the front desk. Plus, the way he looked, they might not have rented a room to him at all.

Buddy got his suitcase out of the back of the truck and finally found his room.  He’d run into several people who stared at his bloody shirt and weary appearance, but he didn’t give a damn what they thought.

The room was stuffy and hot. After adjusting the air conditioner, he took off his clothes, threw his shirt in the trash and got into the shower. The hot water beat down on his head and shoulders making him aware of every ache in his body. His weariness barely allowed him to remain standing. The stinging as the water gushed over the burns on his forearms and hands reminded him of the blazing house. His throat was still raw from inhaling so much smoke. He watched the water mixed with blood wash over his feet and down the drain. Mesmerized, it was like seeing Leslie wash down the drain. How many times had he seen this very same thing after he’d been deer hunting? And yet, this was different. This was Leslie.

He closed his eyes and realized he was already caring too much for her. Hell, he wasn’t even sure she was still alive. A pain seared through his stomach. He needed to go home. He needed to be at the hospital. Lack of sleep and food made logical thinking impossible. He got out, toweled off and decided sleep was a priority. Besides, he wasn’t hungry anyway; this ordeal had tied knots in his stomach.

 Leaning back on the pillows, he saw a small refrigerator under the television. He got up, walked over and opened the door. Cheese, crackers, nuts and beer . . . perfect! He made his selection, drained the beer can in three swigs, turned around and reached for another.

Afterwards he fluffed the pillows and threw back the blanket. Buddy closed his weary eyes, but couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t get the horrific images out of his mind. He sat up and flipped on the TV, putting the volume on low. Perhaps if there were some sound in the room, he would quit hearing the explosion over and over again in his head.

Waiting for sleep to ease his mind, he decided that when he woke up he would tell Dick and Joanne that he was going back to McClellanville. There was nothing more he could do here.

Drowsiness was slowly overtaking his senses. . . . He wondered if that had been the first and last time he’d ever hold her. . . . No! Snap out of it! He was wide-awake again. Remember the “ladder” . . . she was way up there and he was way down here. Buddy desperately needed to get back to his own simple life.

Mercifully, sleep soon silenced his inner voice.