The Midnight Tour

and Monica and how I feel about her and...Oh, man, I saw her naked last night. How can I face her?

She doesn’t know I watched her.

Unless John told.

They caught him and made him talk?

Don’t be ridiculous, Owen thought. The only way she could know is if John went back and joined the party and shot off his mouth.

Wouldn’t put it past him.

But if that’s what he did, where is he?

In jail?

That’s possible, Owen thought. If he went back, maybe they had him arrested. That would certainly explain why he hasn’t turned up yet.

Turned up where?

Owen had been away from the motel room for more than an hour and a half.

Maybe he’s back by now.

As Owen hiked toward the motel, he thought, I have all day to return the ticket. Maybe if I time things to show up during Dana’s lunch break...

But he didn’t know when that might be.

I’d have to go back and bang around...

It seemed too risky. And too much trouble

Besides, he could always sell the ticket to a tourist at the last minute.

What if John turns up before then?

I’ll say I already sold it. That’s fix him. See the look on his face. Then, If he’s good, I can surprise him with it.

The best of both worlds, Owen thought.

When Owen entered his room at the Welcome Inn, John still wasn’t there.

Both beds had already been made, their blankets smooth and flat, pillows neatly arranged at the heads. There were fresh glasses on the tray with the ice bucket, clean towels and washcloths in the bathroom.

Owen shut the curtains, closing out most of the light. Then he changed into his pajamas, pulled back the blanket of the bed he’d used last night, and climbed between the sheets.

Lying on his back, he raised his left arm and stared at his wristwatch.

Maybe set the alarm for five or six, he thought. Just to make sure I don’t oversleep and miss the tour.

I probably won’t even fall asleep at all, but I’d better play it safe.

He decided to set the alarm for 4:00 p.m. That would give him time to try the ticket booth once more before closing time.

What if Dana’s still there?

Cross that bridge when I come to it.

He saw himself step up to the ticket window. Dana smiled at him. A soft, warm smile that made him long for her. “Hi, Owen,” she said.

“Hi, Dana.”

“You just keep coming back for more, don’t you? What are you, a glutton for punishment?”

“I can’t get enough of Beast House,” he told her, thinking I can’t get enough zoom, either.

“Where were you last night?” she asked.

The question knocked his breath out.

As he tried to think of a lie, Dana said, “I thought we had a date.”

“We did?”

A look of disappointment on her face, she nodded and said, “I stopped by the motel, but you weren’t there.”

Oh, no. Oh, no. It can’t be true.

“I really wanted to see you,” she said.

“I really wanted to see you, too.”

“I missed you so much, Owen.” Reaching out through the ticket window, she gently took hold of his hands.

In his right hand, he was holding John’s ticket for the Midnight Tour.

Dana saw it. “Oh, you’re going on the tour tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Me, too.”

“That’s great.”

“Will you be alone?”

His heart pounded hard. “Yes.”

“Me, too. Do you think we could... do it together?”

Somewhere, a car door slammed. Owen woke up, realized he’d only been dreaming, and almost cried.

He hoped to fall asleep again quickly and return to the dream.

But you never get the great ones back. Just the nightmares.

Owen was rushing through the halls of a huge old school building, jerking open doors and glancing into classrooms. At any second, the tardy bell would ring. Where’s my room? Gotta find it! Oh, my God, where is it? I’ll never find it in time. if only I knew the room number!

Suddenly, the bell rang.

No! I’m late!

He woke up.

The noise wasn’t the tardy bell, after all. It came from the telephone on his nightstand. Each time the phone rang, the little red message light flickered..

He squirmed toward the edge of the bed.

Who could it be? Nobody knows I’m here.

Just John.

Maybe he wants me to bail him out.

Bracing himself up with an elbow, he reached out and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

Through the earpiece came an empty sound, a quiet hiss.

“Hello?” he asked again.

At the other end of the line, the caller hung up.

Owen hung up, too. Then he flopped onto his back and shut his eyes and sighed.

No big deal, he told himself. Probably a wrong number.

But it must’ve come through the motel switchboard.

So what? Who cares?

He looked at his wristwatch.

3:50

His alarm would be going off in ten minutes. But he felt awfully groggy. He didn’t want to get up in ten minutes and go over to the ticket booth.

Besides, it’s probably still Dana. I’ll just sell the damn thing when I go over for the picnic. Somebody’s bound to want it.

He reset his wristwatch alarm for 6:30 p.m. That would give him an hour to get ready for the night’s big events, plus half an hour to rid himself of John’s ticket.