As if he had listened to my one-sided conversation, Quinn returned as soon as I disconnected. He didn’t need me to ask if he would mind receiving a return call. “I regularly take messages for the people who stay here. I understand the situation of my customers and do what I can to help y’all out while you’re in the in-between.”
“Thanks, Quinn. I appreciate your help.”
DUSTY SCREENScovered the open windows of the second-floor room. A mild breeze had been refreshing considering it was close to ninety degrees. It would have been nice to have air conditioning; if I had known it was going to be this hot, I might have decided against Dallas. But now that I'm here I need to figure out how to make it work. Mom always taught me to make the best of what I had.
Stains spotted the green carpet and the cream-colored walls. One lamp offered light from an end table between the two small beds. A TV took up little room on top of the dresser and the closet door sat crooked on the hinges. The room also reminded me of the motel in Alaska. I put my clothes in the dresser and lowered myself to the bed.
I made a promise to myself: if I get this job, I’ll do whatever I need to keep it. If there was a God, I might pray and ask for him to put in a good word with the contractor. I needed a job and I needed to make up for what I had lost.
With nothing else to do, and suddenly wide awake, I decided to explore the area and pick up some necessities. More men had gathered in the parking lot, and along with the bottle, they passed a joint, each taking a small hit and holding their breath. Drugs andalcohol never appealed to me, so I made it a point to steer clear.
The group chatted and laughed. They seemed like a fun crowd. An additional three men formed their own group and two women stood at the far corner, waving at passing cars. I didn't feel threatened, but I did feel a little out of place.
Heavy plastic bags hung from my hands as I returned to my new home; I nodded to the men as I climbed the stairs. The few necessities I brought from Alaska weren’t enough to last long.
With nothing to do but sit on my bed in the stuffy space, I decided to make a presence outside, who knew how long I would be in the motel. It was always better to make friends with those who knew the area; in a new town—a big city—there might be a reason for someone to have my back.
“Vato!” A short, skinny Mexican guy lifted his chin. Seven other men stood with him in a circle. “What’s your name, amigo?”
Spanish had been the only language of which I had picked up a few words. I understood “vato” and “amigo” were friendly terms. If I wanted to have any type of relationships in Texas, it probably wasn’t smart for me to retort. “Name’s Jake but my friends call me Moose. You?”
“Felix.” He lifted the bottle to his lips, took a hardswig, and held it out toward me.
An offering from a stranger; I had no idea where his mouth had been, but figured the alcohol would kill any germs. Even though I wasn’t much of a drinker, I understood it would be best for me to accept the drink. I nodded once and took the bottle.
“Dallas has always been home,” he rambled as I drank. “But I left for a few years. Just got back about a week ago. Where you from?”
“Just got here from Alaska. I’m waiting for an oil contractor to return my call so I can get to work.”
“Alaska, eh?”
Shit, I already forgot to spin my lie.
HEAT PUNCHEDme in the face as if I had walked into a convection oven. The office screen door slammed behind me as I stormed outside.Dammit Texas is hot.Frustration encompassed my entire being.Why would Pete’s brother lie to me?
“Moose.” Felix approached and stopped short. He tilted his head; he’d never seen me upset. “Vato, what’s up? You look like someone just killed your dog.”
“I’m empty.” Not a lie, but not the reason I was so pissed. “Need to refill.”
On my heels, Felix bounced behind me like a Chihuahua. Both of us grabbed a bottle of liquor and satit on the counter beside a register. I paid the clerk for both, and Felix slapped me on the shoulder in thanks.
“Okay, Amigo.” After a couple shots, we strolled back toward the motel. “Now, tell me what’s really bothering you.”
Felix had become a sounding board to bounce ideas off of and an empathetic ear. We had discussions about life, but neither of us had revealed deep truths.
“I can hardly believe I’m saying this. A buddy promised me a job with an oil contractor down here. Gave me his number and everything.”
“That’s great.”
I stopped and stared at my new friend.
“Sorry, continue.” He took a drink.
“I left three voicemails, and the dude never called me back. Finally answered today—my fourth call. He told me he had never heard of my buddy; no one ever contacted him about a possible hire from Alaska, and he doesn't have any openings. Doesn’t expect to in the near future.”
“Awe, Moose. That’s rotten.”
“I gave up my entire life for this job. I had almost nothing, but I placed all my cards in one basket.”
