absolutely full, Cory. The best weekend we’ve had since Labor Day. I’ve been turning away people for an hour now.”
Laughter surged in the other room and Cory heard traces of conversation.
“How many spearers does it take…”
“Put two drunk Indians and two hungry bears…” She opened her closet and slammed the linens into the bin. Mr. Bartleby was right behind her.
“It’s too bad we can’t rent out Unit 26. If I didn’t charge full rate, do you think it would be okay?”
“The tub leaks and the bathroom tile is ripped up. No, I don’t think it would be okay.” She faced Mr. Bartleby. “By the way, I’ve been taking down those protest posters in the rooms. I’m sure you don’t want that racist crap in your motel.”
His hand started its up-and-down motion on his belly and continued stroking as he walked out of the room. A moment later he returned with a stack of posters and a roll of tape. “Put them up, Cory. I want them up.”
“I clean rooms.”
“I’m your boss, Cory. I say put them up.”
“No.”
“I want you—”
“I quit. I quit, Mr. Bartleby.” She grabbed her jacket and slammed the closet door.
“Cory, the rooms aren’t finished.”
She walked into the office. “I quit,” she said loud enough to silence the talking. “I can’t work for a bigot.”
Mike was alone in the house when she returned home. He looked up from the newspaper he had been reading as he ate lunch. He folded the paper and sipped some coffee, then pointed to the chair next to his. Cory sat down.
“Brad Bartleby called. He wants you to drop off the motel keys the next time you’re in town.”
Cory checked her jacket pockets. Empty. She patted the pouch of her sweatshirt, and the keys shifted and jangled. She pulled them out, twirled them twice around her thumb, and stuffed the ring into her jacket pocket. “I left in a hurry.”
“He said that this time you can’t have your job back. This time you quit for good.”
“As if I would want it back.”
“He told me what happened. I told him I thought you were right. He hung up on me.” Mike crumpled his napkin and dropped it into his coffee cup. Cory could see the brown liquid travel upward through the paper. Mike pushed his chair back and looked at the ceiling. “Brad and I were lab partners in high school chem. I used to let him steal answers from me during tests.” He rose and cleared his dishes.
“Where are Rob and Elaine?”
Mike sat back down. He didn’t answer but sat still with his hands folded between his legs. He stared at the floor.
“Mike?”
He looked up with a jerk, as if suddenly pulled back from some better place.
“Rob and Elaine?”
“I kicked them out this morning. Well, not Elaine. She’s always welcome.”
“You kicked my brother out?”
“My stepson, Cory. He means plenty to me, too. But I told him that if he insisted on being part of that nonsense at the landing he couldn’t live in this house. He’s gone, Cory. I kicked Robbie out. Three goddamn weeks after Margaret dies and I kick her son out.” He rose and immediately sat back down. “I’m getting out of here. I’m leaving.”
Cory felt all warmth drain away.
Mike raised his hands and then let them drop on the table. “Cory, not like that. Just for tonight.”
“Where are you going? And why?”
“To my son’s. I don’t want to be here when all the people in this town who were so wonderful to your mother turn on themselves. I don’t want to be here when Robbie stops thinking and goes too far. He will, you know. He’ll do it, unless Elaine can stop him or he gets hurt first. I don’t want to be here when the sheriff calls and asks me to bail my stepson out of jail. Because I won’t do it.” He pulled his wallet out of his hip pocket. “You might need some money while I’m gone.”
Cory watched him set down some bills. “Thirty bucks? Are you sure you’re going for only one night?”
“Cory, I’m not leaving you. I’m just
Laughter surged in the other room and Cory heard traces of conversation.
“How many spearers does it take…”
“Put two drunk Indians and two hungry bears…” She opened her closet and slammed the linens into the bin. Mr. Bartleby was right behind her.
“It’s too bad we can’t rent out Unit 26. If I didn’t charge full rate, do you think it would be okay?”
“The tub leaks and the bathroom tile is ripped up. No, I don’t think it would be okay.” She faced Mr. Bartleby. “By the way, I’ve been taking down those protest posters in the rooms. I’m sure you don’t want that racist crap in your motel.”
His hand started its up-and-down motion on his belly and continued stroking as he walked out of the room. A moment later he returned with a stack of posters and a roll of tape. “Put them up, Cory. I want them up.”
“I clean rooms.”
“I’m your boss, Cory. I say put them up.”
“No.”
“I want you—”
“I quit. I quit, Mr. Bartleby.” She grabbed her jacket and slammed the closet door.
“Cory, the rooms aren’t finished.”
She walked into the office. “I quit,” she said loud enough to silence the talking. “I can’t work for a bigot.”
Mike was alone in the house when she returned home. He looked up from the newspaper he had been reading as he ate lunch. He folded the paper and sipped some coffee, then pointed to the chair next to his. Cory sat down.
“Brad Bartleby called. He wants you to drop off the motel keys the next time you’re in town.”
Cory checked her jacket pockets. Empty. She patted the pouch of her sweatshirt, and the keys shifted and jangled. She pulled them out, twirled them twice around her thumb, and stuffed the ring into her jacket pocket. “I left in a hurry.”
“He said that this time you can’t have your job back. This time you quit for good.”
“As if I would want it back.”
“He told me what happened. I told him I thought you were right. He hung up on me.” Mike crumpled his napkin and dropped it into his coffee cup. Cory could see the brown liquid travel upward through the paper. Mike pushed his chair back and looked at the ceiling. “Brad and I were lab partners in high school chem. I used to let him steal answers from me during tests.” He rose and cleared his dishes.
“Where are Rob and Elaine?”
Mike sat back down. He didn’t answer but sat still with his hands folded between his legs. He stared at the floor.
“Mike?”
He looked up with a jerk, as if suddenly pulled back from some better place.
“Rob and Elaine?”
“I kicked them out this morning. Well, not Elaine. She’s always welcome.”
“You kicked my brother out?”
“My stepson, Cory. He means plenty to me, too. But I told him that if he insisted on being part of that nonsense at the landing he couldn’t live in this house. He’s gone, Cory. I kicked Robbie out. Three goddamn weeks after Margaret dies and I kick her son out.” He rose and immediately sat back down. “I’m getting out of here. I’m leaving.”
Cory felt all warmth drain away.
Mike raised his hands and then let them drop on the table. “Cory, not like that. Just for tonight.”
“Where are you going? And why?”
“To my son’s. I don’t want to be here when all the people in this town who were so wonderful to your mother turn on themselves. I don’t want to be here when Robbie stops thinking and goes too far. He will, you know. He’ll do it, unless Elaine can stop him or he gets hurt first. I don’t want to be here when the sheriff calls and asks me to bail my stepson out of jail. Because I won’t do it.” He pulled his wallet out of his hip pocket. “You might need some money while I’m gone.”
Cory watched him set down some bills. “Thirty bucks? Are you sure you’re going for only one night?”
“Cory, I’m not leaving you. I’m just
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