The Midnight Tour

“Leave me alone!”

“Aw, that didn’t hurt you.”

“Did, too.” Owen stopped at the curb. On the other side of the street was the photo shop. “Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?”

“If you say so. Is that the place?” John asked.

“Yeah. Is your roll finished?”

“Yep.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a black plastic canister. “I’m all reloaded and everything.”

They crossed the street and entered the shop.

A man behind the counter looked up at them. He had no hair or eyebrows. He was too tall, too thin. He looked as if he’d been grabbed at each end and stretched by someone playful and malicious. “Help you?” he asked.

“We’d like to get some film developed,” Owen said.

John set the container on top of the glass counter. The man picked it up, opened it, and dumped the roll of film into his hand. His fingers were nearly twice as long as Owen’s. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Twenty-four color prints. I can take care of that for you.”

“We’d like two copies of each,” Owen said.

“Better make it four,” John said.

“Four?” Owen asked.

“Two for us, two for the girls.” Grinning, he said, “I promised ‘em.”

“That’s okay.”

“Four copies each?” the man asked. “That’ll run you.”

“That’s okay,” Owen said. “When can we pick them up?”

“When do you need them?”

“The sooner the better, I guess.”

The man glanced over his shoulder at the wall clock. Though mounted above a door, it was nearly level with his head. “I’d say I can likely have them done for you before closing time.”

“When’s that?” Owen asked.

“Six o’clock.”

“Ihat’s four hours,” John pointed out, glowering at the man. “Your sign says one hour developing.”

“You want four copies?”

“You telling me it takes four times as long?”

The man’s thin lips pressed together tightly and curled up at each end. “Might,” he said. “Might take longer. But I close at six, either way.”

“Six’ll be fine,” Owen told him, trying to sound especially friendly and sincere. “Really. We’ve got no problem with that. My friend’s a trouble-maker.”

“I ‘spent he is,” the man said.

Owen hauled out his wallet and removed a fifty-dollar bill. “I’d be glad to pay in advance.”

The man eyed the bill. He nodded as if agreeing with himself about a matter of little importance. “No need for that,” he said. “Come in here around five, maybe I’ll have ’em done for you by then.”

“Thanks. Thank you.”

Outside, John patted Owen on the back and said, “Well done, young fella.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Looks like we have some time on our hands. So, what’ll we do for the next three hours?”

“I don’t know,” Owen said. He crossed the street, John by his side, and headed south.

“Wanta go back to Beast House and scope out the babes for a while?”

“Not really.”

“What do you wanta do?”

“Actually, we don’t really need to... We could, like, each do our own thing and meet back at the photo shop at five.”

John laughed. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“No, but...I could use some time by myself.”

“What for?”

“Maybe I’d just like to be alone for a while.”

“So you can go to your room and freshen up?”

“I don’t have a room.”

“Ah! Okay. I get it. You need to find yourself a place to stay tonight, am I right?”

“I thought I’d drive around and see what’s available.”

“Good deal. Might I suggest the Welcome Inn? Best place in town. Plus it has all that history. I fully intended to stay there myself before my fucking radiator exploded. Get a room with two beds, and I’ll keep you company.”

Owen grimaced. “I really don’t want a roommate, John.”

“Sure you do.”

“No. I don’t. Really.”

“Come on. I’ve been sleeping in my car, man. It’s been a week since I took a shower. Anyway, it won’t cost you hardly anything. These motels, they charge you pretty much the same for two people as one.”

Owen shook his head.

“Come on, man. Do a guy a favor.”

“I’d like to have some time by myself.”

“You can have that any old time. I’m not asking you to marry me. Besides. You and me, we make a good team. You can use me. Look how I took those pictures for you.”

“I’m giving you a hundred dollar ticket for them.”

“But you’d never have the guts to take ’em like that yourself. You need a guy like me around. I can do stuff for you. I’ll do anything, man. Please.”

I’m never gonna get rid of this guy!

“I tell you what,” Owen said. “I want some time by myself.”

“Hey, but...”

“Listen! I don’t like all this pressure. If you want to use my room tonight, give me a little space. Right now, I want to get in my car and drive over to the motel—by myself. They might not even have any vacancies. And the more time I waste arguing with you....”

“Okay, okay. Go. I’ll find something to do without you.”

“Good. We’ll meet at the photo shop at five. After we get the pictures, I’ll let you know about tonight.”

John raised his hand. “See you there.” He stopped walking. They were still a half a block from the entrance to the Beast House parking lot.

“Fine,” Owen said.

“Fine. Go.”

“Okay.” Owen turned away from him and resumed walking.

He had an urge to look back, but he resisted it.

“Hey, Owen?” John called.

He looked around.

“Don’t forget it’s a midnight tour. You’d better get reservations for tomorrow night, too.” He held up two fingers and smiled rather sadly.

He was still standing in the same place on the sidewalk a few minutes later when Owen pulled out of the parking lot in his rental car and swung right onto Front Street.

John looked like a big, abandoned kid.

Owen slowed down and pulled over. He pushed a button to lower the passenger window. “Okay,” he called.