Skinwalker

Roy Curtis, a man full of shit and cheap ass beer, nearly kicked in the door of the white stucco motel and when he stood in the doorway, arms full of luggage from his wife’s broken down car, he gazed out at the motel room before him. He had to admit it, though he wouldn’t to his wife or brat, the room wasn’t nearly as bad as he had been expecting. The Hadlock Motel was an odd place from the outside. Each individual room was it’s own small unit, he and his family had been given unit 9, the one at the very end.

A tear rolled down Matilda Curtis’s cheek as her upper lip had turned completely inside out, revealing a pink velvet lining as intimate as a vulva, she wasn’t upset but she was scared, she was scared to sleep in hotels in towns that didn’t have her stamp of approval, for any reason — the color of the people who lived there, how clean it was, how safe the area was.

Isabel Curtis didn’t seemed bothered by anything that was going on that night, she had her teddy bear, and she had her Barney night light. In her five year old brain, it couldn’t be all bad could it? She didn’t think so and ran inside.

Roy saw this as they had simply gotten lucky, their car had broken down near the only motel in town, and just beyond was the mechanics garage. The tow truck driver gave them a ride to the motel free of charge.

But Matilda saw this as anything but lucky, and Roy hated that.

Sure the Hadlock Motel wasn’t a five star luxury resort on the beach, complete with a spa, but what was in a town like Baker? If the room had indoor plumbing, that was Baker’s version of five stars. He took a step onto the thin green carpeting. Two large queen beds took up most of the room, a large night stand between the two, one bed was pushed almost to the far wall, and the other had a nice view of the window. On the other side of the room was a doorway, to the bathroom, and that’s when Roy noticed it.

There was no TV. He dropped his suitcase, and raised his arms. Isabel knew this dance. Just keep her head down and keep quiet. Roy turned on Matilda as if this was all her idea, her idea for the car to break down in a town with one motel and that one motel having no TV.

Isabel knew her parents were going to fight, so she walked past her dad and got onto the bed that was closet to the wall.

There was nothing she could do to stop the fight, so why even try? Isabel took her beloved teddy bear out of her backpack, introduced the toy to the motel room, anything to block out her parents fight. She couldn’t wait to grow up, but not for the reason children wanted to grow up.

She wanted to get away from the fighting. Away from her father’s probing hands. “This is all your fault, Matilda!” Her father berated her mother.

And her mother retaliated, she always did, or sometimes her mother would run crying into the other room. Run crying into the other room, wasn’t really an option at the motel. “How is this my fault, Roy?!”

“Your dead mother gave us that lemon of a car!”

“Wow!”

“Is that all you have to say you fat cunt!?”

“Never use the C word in front of Isabel!”

“Every woman is a cunt! She’ll be a cunt when she’s older! Just like her cunt of a mother!” Her mom had reached out and slapped her father.

It was something that Amaanda couldn’t stand anymore. She stood between her parents, who had since moved into the room. She told them she was hungry, and for a moment they stopped their ugly words. Mother and father looked at each other, and then nodded their heads. The parents went to the beds, and her father picked up the phone. Isabel’s father dialed a number, and ordered two pizzas.

Isabel would be sleeping with her mother that night, in the bed closest to the wall, and her father would take the bed cloest to the window, where he could partake in that simple delight of stroking himself. Her mother went into the bathroom to take a shower before the pizza arrived. Her father was on the bed with his nose buried in the newspaper. “Can I go outside?” Isabel asked her father, who lowered the paper.

He looked towards the large window, the red curtains pulled back, showing father and daughter the view their room had — the deep dark desert of Baker. The town itself was ugly, but it hosted the most beautiful night sky. “Why the hell would you want to go out there?” Said her father. He knew his daughter wasn’t high, but her words sure sounded like she was. “There are probably monsters out there!”

Isabel’s eyes brightened. “Like Michael Myers!?” She crowed.

“They are fictional!” Her father barked at her. He shook the paper. Burying his over-fed face in it again as to avoid his horror obsessed little daughter. “But yeah, sure, maybe you’ll get killed out there.”

If she had been older she would have responded with an ouch, dad. But at her young age, his words hadn’t affected her as much as they probably should have.

“Okay, dad.”

Isabel toddled off to the door, reaching up and pulling down the knob. The secondary lock was closed, so the door did not open. She pointed up at the lock. But before she could ask her dad to unlock the secondary lock, a loud knock came upon the door. “Dad!”

With a loud barking chuckle, her father got off the bed and answered the door. It was the pizza delivery man. Her father made some comment about her being a chicken. The man and her father laughed at her. “How much do I owe you?” Her father asked the pizza delivery man.