Razzamatazz

out of the end unit.

'Evening,' the man said.

'Hello,' said Colin.

The woman looked him up and down, nodded.

He smiled at her but she averted her eyes. Did he look that bad? he wondered. He'd tried to brush himself off while he waited behind the billboard, but perhaps the damage was worse than he'd thought.

Continuing across the cement walk in front of the rooms, he found 131. The room was dark. He knocked, called Hallock's name, but there was no reply.

At the office he hesitated; what if Liz Wood knew who he was, recognized him from his picture in the paper? For all he knew, there might be a warrant out for his arrest. Even so, he had to take the chance. Hallock was his only hope.

A woman sat behind the counter. Above her head, on a shelf, a black-and-white television was playing a sitcom. She watched the screen intently, a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. Her copper-colored hair was wrapped around pink curlers. The light blue sweatshirt she wore said Grab a Heine, and displayed a bottle of beer. She glanced at Colin quickly then went back to her show.

'Excuse me,' said Colin.

'Yeah?' she replied, still watching the television.

'I'm a friend of Waldo Hallock's and-'

She turned, leveling a baleful gaze at him. 'You the one which called before?'

'No. Are you Mrs. Wood?'

'Who wants to know?' She eyed him carefully.

Did she look at everyone this way, he wondered, or was she recalling his picture from the paper? 'My name is Mike Rosler,' he said. 'I'm a friend of Waldo Hallock's, and he asked me to meet him in his room but he's not there. I wonder if you could let me in?'

She took the cigarette from her mouth, a bit of paper sticking to her bottom lip. 'Let you in?'

'In his room. To wait.'

'When'd he make this plan with you?' she asked suspiciously.

'A few days ago.'

'Well, he ain't back yet.'

'Yes, I know,' he said patiently. 'That's my point. I'd like to wait for him. In his room.'

'Where you from?'

It was clear now that she didn't know who he was. He wondered what place would gain her approval, and took a gamble. 'I'm from the Midwest. Omaha.'

'Omaha?' She permitted herself a small, tight smile. 'Had a cousin lived in Omaha. He was a drunk,' she said, looking at him as if he might have the same problem. 'You drink?'

'Hardly at all,' he answered truthfully.

'You look a mess.'

He glanced down at his clothes, saw that his trousers were wrinkled and smeared with dirt. He hoped she couldn't see the bulge under his windbreaker where he'd tucked the gun into his belt. 'I've been traveling.' Fruitlessly, he brushed at his pants. 'That's another reason I'd like to wait in the room. I'd like to clean myself up, take a shower.'

'You'd be using his towels.' She raised a thin eyebrow.

'He wouldn't mind.'

'Good thing you're looking for Waldo. He's about the only person you could of said you was waiting on for me to let you in, considering what's been going on around here lately.'

'What's that?' He hoped nothing showed in his face.

'Never mind. What'd you say Waldo was to you? Uncle?'

'No. Just a friend.'

'How do I know you're telling the truth?'

'You don't. You'll just have to trust me.'

'I don't have to do anything, mister.'

'I didn't mean it that way. I meant, I'd like you to trust me.'

'I'll bet.' She stood up and reached behind her, taking a key from a pegboard. 'Master key,' she said to him. 'I'll have to go down with you.' She cast a woeful eye toward the television screen. 'Let's hop to it. I don't want to miss my nine o'clock show.'

Near the door Colin spied a candy machine. He rummaged through his pockets for some change.

'You coming, or what?'

'I just want to get something,' he said, pointing to the machine.

'Out of everything but Clark Bars.'

'That's fine.' He dropped his money into the slot and pulled the handle. The candy slid into the tray at the bottom. It took control not to rip open the paper and swallow the bar whole. He put the candy in his pocket and followed her down the path.

She seemed to slide along as if she were skating rather than walking, her blue sandals spraying dirt on either side of her. At Room 131 she turned to him before putting the key in the lock.

'Hope you aren't gonna try any funny business?'

'Funny business?'

'Don't try bringing any woman down here now. I'll know if you do.'

'Mrs. Wood, I just want to wait for Waldo Hallock, that's all.' And eat my goddamn candy bar, he added to himself.

'Who said I was Mrs. Wood?'

'I assumed.'

'Big shot,' she muttered, put the key in the lock, and opened the door.

It was the usual motel room, one double bed with an orange spread, a plastic orange chair, a desk made of some synthetic material, two paintings on the wall of Keane-type children, and a black- and-white television in the corner.

'Now don't go messing around with Waldo's things.'

Colin wondered what she was referring to as the room seemed devoid of anything personal. 'I won't.' He wanted her to leave so he could eat his candy.

'If you make any calls either you or Waldo's gotta pay for them.'

'Yes, I know.'

'Well, okay. I hope I'm doing the right thing letting you in here.'

'You are. Don't worry.'

'Hope so.' She backed out of the room shutting the door behind her.

Colin waited a moment then snapped the lock. He pulled the candy from his windbreaker pocket, stripped the wrapper, and bit off a large hunk. He couldn't remember ever having been so hungry.

When he was finished he closed the curtain, then took the gun from his belt. Nothing of Hallock's was visible but on the night table was a paperback. It was Ballerina. Colin smiled. Next to the book was the phone. He dialed Annie's number. No answer. He turned off the light and lay down. A feeling of helplessness overcame him. There was nothing he could do until Hallock returned. What if he didn't come back until morning-would it be too late? If Mark was going to make a move toward Annie, it would be tonight. He couldn't afford to wait.

A swirl of lightning lit the room, then came the thunder, muted in the distance. Oh, Christ, he thought, what if Hallock's trying to get back and a goddamn storm stops him? Colin knew he couldn't deal with this thing by himself. He needed a cover, and Hallock was the only one he could trust. Lightning flashed again, the thunder closer. A splattering of rain fell on the roof. He dialed Annie again. After ten rings he gave up. He thought of his mother, who always unplugged the television in a storm, convinced that lightning would snake through the set, killing them all.

Another streak of lightning illuminated the room and the crash of thunder that followed sounded as if it had struck the motel. It was pouring now, the drops rhythmically beating against the roof.