There was nothing in the motel except a bathroom.
Stuck in the middle of this tiny island. Barely room for the building and a thin beach to coexist.
It didn’t thrive.
But the trickle of patrons meant it survived.
There were six of them, and for Elias this was six too many. He’d thought this was the off-season, for a place that never really had an on-season.
“It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
He looked over at the woman. She had a wide smile and gray coveralls.
“Oh, uh, I’m not going out with everyone,” he said quietly.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “That’s a shame. Are you not feeling well?”
“No, I’m not.” That part was true.
He watched the woman, and the others, walk to the tiny jetty. They boarded a battered launch, which scudded away into the grimy sea.
Elias went back to his room. It was warm. His case laid at the end of the bed, still open. He hadn’t unpacked last night.
Two shirts, two sweaters. Underwear, socks, and a set of pajama pants. All shades of gray. Some instant ramen cups took up the other half the case. The cups, and a small black pouch.
His wrist vibrated slightly.
Unable to find signal. Retrying.
That part of the plan had worked.
He picked up the pouch, delicately. With the drawstring loosened, he could see inside. Two things. A razor blade. And a small, shimmering bead.
Elias picked up the pearl. He rolled it between his thumb and finger. Then he lay down and carefully placed it just below his left ear. He held it there, and closed his eyes.
He wasn’t tired.
His fingers sank to touch his skin. He pulled back in surprise. He’d barely even noticed.
He rubbed behind his ear. He could feel it. Like a grain of rice.
“No shit,” he thought.
He tried to focus on it. Find some way to connect.
Heat spread from the bead to his ear. Then his neck. Fast. Uncomfortable. Not quite painful. It settled across his body, warming as it dissipated over him.
And then he was exhausted.
“What now?” was his last thought as he drifted off.
He woke at the first knock. No waking time. Instantly alert.
“A minute,” he called.
It was the woman from before.
“I asked the manager,” she admitted. “Are you feeling better?”
“A little, yes,” Elias said.
“Good. Hopefully you can come tomorrow.” She paused. “Bring some luck. Today was a washout.”
“Sorry.” He pretended to know what she was talking about. “I should, um, rest up some more.” He gestured vaguely back into the room.
The woman nodded. “Of course. It’ll be better tomorrow.” She turned to leave, then half-turned back. “Oh, I’m Miriam, by the way.”
Elias gave her a half wave as he closed the door.
Part 1 of a three-part story from the Static Drift universe.
Part 2 will be published next Friday (Oct 23).
Article photo by Raquel Fereshetian on Unsplash.