Midnight Missouri Mountain Highway Ride... Part 3

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Part 3 - End of the Ride

As the tanker screamed past, Billy’s right rear tire dropped off the pavement, and the Galaxie slung itself out of control. Billy lifted his foot off the accelerator and braced for the roll. But she didn’t roll. Instead of sinking into red Missouri mud, the tires slid over gravel. As the car spun, Billy realized he had dropped into a long gravel parking lot. Braking would do no good. As the car swung to face back the way he had come, Billy slammed the accelerator to the floor. He had to be doing ninety traveling backwards, Billy thought, but the speedometer still registered a hundred and twenty.

Throwing a roostertail of gravel, and sliding rearward into it, the forward drive of the wheels slowed the Galaxie.  His side mirror told Billy a building was coming up behind him much too fast, but he held the accelerator down another few seconds.  Finally, he chanced the brakes.  Slamming his foot on the pedal, he braced for a crash.  It never came.  The big car bit into the gravel, and stopped more quickly than he had thought possible.  As the car rocked, Sandy came awake.  “What’s going on?” she asked.

Billy looked ahead.  He’d slid through most of the parking area of a row of businesses that included a cabin-style motel.  There had to be four hundred yards of gravel… a quarter mile.  By the skid marks, he’d used most of it.  He glanced behind the car.  They had stopped less than ten feet from the motel lobby door.  “We’re going to stay here tonight,” he said.  “I’m too tired to drive any more.”  Before she could protest he got out of the car.

The door to the motel check-in opened to a large room that was part restaurant, part bar, and part lobby.  Billy rang the bell at the desk.  The bell rang twice.  Billy realized his hands were still shaking.  The TV behind the partly open door back of the desk switched off.  The old man who came out to the desk looked as if he’d been asleep in front of it.  “Yuh?” he asked.

“Need a couple of rooms for the night,” Billy said.

The old man pushed a book over to him.  “Sign here,” he said.  Then, peering through the glass in the door at the car with his sister-in-law in the front seat, “Two rooms?  You and the missus have a fight or something?”

“Or something,” Billy said, signing in.

The old man shrugged.  “Five bucks a room,” he said.  “Rooms seven and eight – Cabin Four – far end of the row.  Pay in advance, phone and TV extra.  You’ll need quarters for the TV.”  He took two keys off the board behind the desk and pushed them over to Billy.

Billy handed him a ten and picked up the keys.  “Bar open?” he asked.

“’Till two,” the old man said, but he didn’t look happy about it.

Billy nodded.  “Thanks,” he said, “never mind the TV.”  He opened the lobby door and headed for the car.  He noticed that the line of cars on the highway was gone.  He wondered what had happened to the Trooper who’d led them down the mountain.  He got in the Galaxie and drove to Cabin Four.  “C’mon, you get room seven,” he said to Sandy, getting out of the car.  As she got out, he opened the trunk and grabbed her suitcase and overnight bag.  “We’ll be leaving early,” he said, and unlocked the door to room seven.

“I thought we were going to drive straight through,” she said.  “I can drive if you want.”

“Nah,” he said, setting her bags on the floor, “I need some real sleep.  Besides, there’s too much construction and too much rain.”  He turned to the door.  “It’s just too bad a night to drive any farther.  You get some sleep.  I’ll call you in the morning.”  He closed the door and headed back to the bar.

“Scotch,” he said to the old man.  “Double, over ice.”

The old man turned to the back bar.  “Saw where you slid in,” he said.  “Lucky you didn’t run into the building.”  He turned back and poured the drink.  “Six bits,” he said, setting the drink in front of Billy.

The door opened, and a smallish, and very wet, man came in, accompanied by a Missouri State Trooper.  “I’m buying,” he said.  He sat down next to Billy and dropped two singles on the bar.  “Jack Daniel’s,” he said to the old man, “just like his.”  To Billy he said, “Tom Stevens.”

The Trooper sat down on the other side of Stevens.  “Coffee,” he said.

The old man poured the drinks, and sat them on the bar, scooping up the bills with the same hand, in a practiced motion.

“Keep the change,” Tom said.  To Billy he said, “That your Galaxie out there?”

“Yeah,” Billy said.  There didn’t seem to be any point in explaining about his brother.

“Nice driving.  Thought I had you a couple of times.”  Tom threw back his drink.  “Again,” he said, throwing another single on the bar.

“So did I,” Billy said.  He sipped the Scotch.  “Especially when you blew me off the road.  Thought I was done for sure.”

“Sorry about that,” Tom said, “but you musta backed off the gas.  I had to pass you.  No brakes.  Weren’t much to begin with, and I lost ‘em right at the start.”

“Yeah, I figured you had.  Good thing you didn’t try that pass on the mountain,” Billy said.  “It would’ve been all over.”  He swallowed more of the Scotch.  “How far did you run?”

“Three miles.  Got outa that truck soon as she stopped.  Trooper here picked me up and dropped me off back here.”  Tom grinned.  “They’re gonna wanta talk t’ me in the mornin’, but that’s OK, I ain’t goin’ nowhere for a few days.”

“I am,” Billy said.  “To bed.”  He finished the Scotch and got up.  “Good luck with the cops,” he said.  “I’ll be gone before they get back.”  He turned to the old man.  “Call room eight at six,” he said.

The old man looked up.  “Yuh,” he said.  “You take it easy, now.”  He walked over to the desk and made a note.

The Trooper cleared his throat.  “Y’know,” he said, “you oughta get that fender fixed.  Musta floated the front end somethin’ fierce.”

Billy looked back.  “Yeah,” he said, “didn’t help a lot.  You need anything from me before I hit the hay?  I’ll be gone tomorrow.”

“Nope,” the Trooper said, “just thought I’d mention.  Good job though.  Thought I was gonna lose it a time or two, and the cruiser’s sprung for that.  You musta been awful close to losing it yourself.”

“Yeah,” Billy said.  “Once or twice.”  He left the bar and walked slowly back to his cabin.

His heart felt steady again, his breathing was normal, and a glance at his hands told him they were no longer shaking.  But something was wrong with his stomach.  In the cabin, he went straight to the bathroom and threw up the scotch.  “Glad I wasn’t paying,” he though wryly.  Washing his face he peered into the mirror, half expecting his hair to be white.  Finding it still black, he turned back to the bedroom.

As he dropped into bed, he thought about the trucker.  “Bet he was more scared than I was,” he thought.  Then, “Nah, not possible.”  He wasn’t sure he could sleep, but he fell asleep almost instantly.  He expected dreams, but if there were any he didn’t remember them in the morning.

END

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