SEVENTEEN

After cutting the deal with D-Low, Genesis and Lupita checked into a room at the Casa Soledad Motel, a forty-buck-a-night dive off of the shady end of Laughlin’s downtown strip. They pulled into the lot and killed the engine. The sign outside read VACANCIES – $40 ROOM – WEEKLY RATES – HBO – ADULT MOVIES. The Casa Soledad’s lonesome forecourt was bathed in the sickly orange glow of cathode lights. An RC Cola machine outside of the office had long since rusted into obsolescence.

“This place is a dump,” Genesis said, as they got out of the car.

“Yup. But it’s got one thing going in its favour.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s forty bucks a night. And I’d rather waste my cash on the casinos than some fancy-ass hotel I’m barely gonna spend any time in. And no-one’s gonna be pryin’ into our business here.”

Above the door to the front office was a colourful Virgin Mary wind-chime that tinkled softly as they entered. The office was dim and smelled of an uneasy mix of mildew and Bengay. The walls were wood-panelled and the old sagging couch in the reception area had worn thin in several places. The only decoration in the office was a vase of dusty plastic flowers on the front desk. It seemed as though the room had long since begun a steady slide into decay.

Off in the back a Spanish language soap opera was blaring. Lupita walked up to the desk and rang the bell. After a few moments a dark skinned old woman shuffled out eyeing them both suspiciously. To Lupita’s eyes she looked to be Dominican, Puerto Rican or possibly Brazilian. She had Indian blood for sure. Noting the hostile look on the woman’s face, Lupita did her best to pacify her by addressing her in Spanish.

“Buenos noches, deseamos una habitación?” Lupita said. She smiled broadly at the old woman. The woman’s face remained stoic. She was ancient and frail, with shocking green eyes set deep into the parchment thin folds of her face. A thick white afro framed her shrivelled head.

“A room?” she replied in stiff English, refusing to play along with Lupita by speaking in her native tongue. “One room only?”

“Yes.”

“Two twin beds?”

“No. One double bed will be sufficient.”

The woman glanced at Genesis then back at Lupita. Puckered her lips.

“For the both of you?”

“That’s correct.” Lupita’s voice hardened a little. The old woman stared at them for what felt like a very long time. She looked like she had just caught a whiff of something rotten. Looking closer Lupita noticed that the old woman had a smudge of grey ash on her forehead. In the dim space back where the TV was blaring Lupita saw a flickering Sacred Heart candle that was the centrepiece of a dim shrine of knick-knacks and religious statues.

Genesis pushed past Lupita and leaned across the desk so her face was only inches from the tiny woman on the other side.

“Excuse me? M’am? We’d like a room with one bed only. I hear it gets real cold around here at night. I’m countin’ on this lady here to keep me warm… ya know what I’m saying?”

The old woman muttered something in Spanish, and made her way slowly back into the other room. Genesis looked at Lupita and frowned.

“What she say, Lupe?”

“You don’t wanna know, hun.”

“She can’t treat us like that. They have laws about that sort of stuff, don’t they?”

Lupita shrugged.

“Anyway, I don’t like this place. The old woman gives me the creeps. Maybe we should just find another place…”

“It’s cheap and it’s low profile,” Lupita said, “It’ll be fine. Just let me do the talkin’ okay?”

The old lady returned. Without making eye contact with either of them she went through a rehearsed spiel, in an inflectionless monotone.

“Room is forty per night, two-fifty per week, pets are extra, no visitors, no drugs, no loud noise after ten pm, one parking space per room. Ice machine’s round the back of the office, TV’s got regular channels and pay-per-view. How many nights you…” her voice wobbled slightly, “you… women planning on staying?”

“Just a couple.” Lupita said.

“There’s a ten-dollar deposit per key. You pay up front. Check out is at noon. Cash or credit card?”

“Cash,” Genesis said pulling a C-note out of the stuffed envelope. She slapped it on the counter with a flourish. “Hope big bills aren’t a problem.”

The old woman examined the hundred-dollar bill for a good two minutes, holding it up to the light and peering at it doubtfully, before reluctantly giving them their change and key. The cash register was the old fashioned kind, and it pinged loudly and rattled when the drawer popped open.

“Thank you,” Genesis cooed as they went to get their bags.

On the way to their room on the second floor balcony Lupita grumbled, “Girl, why the fuck you waving that money around, drawin’ attention to us an’ shit? I told you to let me do the talking…”

“I just wanted to put that old bitch in her place, Lupe. I don’t like her attitude.”

“Shit sweetie, I don’t like it either, but who gives a fuck about her? She’s just some uptight veija. Seen a million like that cunt. Probably thinks we’re heading straight to hell. You give her any more agita she’s liable to toss your dyke ass outta here. You know how those old-school country-ass bitches are…”

Genesis stuck the key in the lock and pushed the door open. She clicked on the light.

“Who you callin’ a dyke, anyway?” she asked. “Just ’cos I dig you. Don’t be casting no aspersions.”

“Aspersions? Damn girl, you go an’ swallow a dictionary after you got done eatin’ my pussy or something?”

Giggling, they stepped inside and took in the room. It was dismal and small. A queen size bed with a puke splatter duvet on it, red velvet flocked wallpaper, and 1970s brown deep-pile carpet that now resembled the fur of a mangy dog. The décor consisted of an ancient television set bolted to the wall, a chest of drawers with most of the handles missing, and a black velvet portrait of the Sacred Heart above the bed.

“Looks like the set of the world’s creepiest stag movie,” Genesis said.

Lupita skipped past her and sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing up and down, causing it to emit a series of disconcerting squeaks and clangs. “Well,” she said, “the good news is that we won’t be here so much. We’ll go hang out in the casinos, play a little blackjack, get into some trouble… We just need a place to crash. It might be a dump, but it’s close and it’s cheap.”

“I’m just fucking with you Lupe. I like it fine. ‘Cept for the creepy fucking picture on the wall.”

Lupita looked up at the image of Jesus that stared down at them with eyes full of pain and compassion. She pulled her wife-beater up over her head, exposing her breasts. She tossed it aside and beckoned for Genesis to join her on the bed.

“Come over here beautiful,” she said as Genesis locked the door behind them. “Whaddya say we give old Jesus here somethin’ to look at?”