[6] Soft Elbows

[6]

Well, maybe there are no mice. Or if there are, they seem to have moved on. A car came into the parking lot. Then it turned around again. I mean, it might have been a truck. The lights seemed kind of high. But it didn't sound like a truck. Maybe it was one of those newer ones, the ones that aren't so loud. I mean, I guess. I don't know. All I know is that it didn't stop. It just pulled in, turned around and left. I mean, I guess the tail-lights seemed kind of high too. So maybe it was a truck. I mean, it was a truck. It had to be a truck. I mean, if I think about it. The headlights were also wider than a car. The tail-lights too. I mean, we solved that mystery.

I wonder how late it is? It feels like hours since the sun went down. Midnight? It is possible. I mean, this cheap ass motel room. No phone, no clock. Even the tv is from the 80's or something. I mean, I watched the Matron pull the knob to turn it on. It took a while to heat up. If I remember right. I mean, I guess I wasn't paying that much attention. But if I think about it. That is what happened. I think you have to turn a knob to change the channel too. I wonder if it is worth some money? Like an antique or something. I should remember this. For when I get out of here. It is always good to remember where something pricey might be hanging out. Even in plain sight. I mean, you pay $30 dollars for some junk motel room and walk out with a $300 dollar television. I mean, do that math. I just did it. $270 dollars in profit. I mean, you would have to make sure and use a fake name or whatever. Maybe borrow someone's car or something. But there is good money out there for crap like that. There is a whole cottage industry about it. Nostalgia shit. I mean, I think the thing was in color. That would be weird if it wasn't. I mean, I would think I would have noticed if it was a black and white one. Right? I mean, who the hell knows. I mean, I am dangling here like some loser, in theory I am free of emotions. I mean, I don't feel nothing. But still, I do believe I am under duress. There is a lot of shit that just doesn't make sense. I mean, I would think that I am having a little bit of a difficulty holding it all together. In theory, I mean. But who knows. I don't feel any sense of urgency or nothing. I mean, I am a little jealous of myself and JuJu Beans being out there, having the time of their lives. But still, I mean, I don't like feel it. If you know what I mean. I'm not like longing for things. It's just like, I don't know, like I am sick and I can hear my brothers outside playing or something. I mean, in my heart I know that I can't go out there, but at the same time I am somehow resigned to be stuck in bed or whatever. Do you know what I mean? I mean, I feel like it doesn't pertain to me right now. The outside world or whatever. Like I am just waiting around to feel better or something. I mean, it is nothing personal. More like I just kind of feel sorry for myself. But in an un-emotional sort of way. Like I am resigned. I guess. That is the word for sure. Resigned. But, I mean, still, there is something there. Just on the periphery. Something that I can't quite get ahold of. I mean, it's not like it is something real or scary or whatever. Deep or something. Just something there. Right there. And if I could turn around fast enough I might catch a glimpse. But I can't do that. I can just dangle like some hard booger. Counting the seconds. I mean, it has to be past midnight, right? I mean it is really very quiet. Like dumb quiet. Stupid quiet. Ringing in your ears quiet.

I mean, I wonder what was in that duffel bag. Lander Valley Tigers. Did Sniffles steal the swim team's travel money? Maybe they were planning on going out East to some Conference or something? And he pulled the bus over and took their money. That would be kind of funny. Stupid but funny. I mean, but what would I have to do with that? I mean, in theory his whole thing was to get me drunk and then pretend like I was an alibi or something. But then again, if that was true, why would he come back to the room in the middle of the day, half-sweaty, and then go right back out again? I mean, my point is, I mean, if he held up the bus or whatever, overtook the bus, took their money, then he would have had to do that in the early morning or late evening. Those bus trips usually happen either first thing or last thing. So that the kids can sleep through the night and be ready to swim or whatever by the time the bus got there. I mean, that is what I remember. Maybe Lander does it different. I mean, they do seem to have some good ideas. Considering that they have won State for a quarter of a century at this point. I mean, what I mean is, I don't think that Sniffles could have done a stick-up job in the middle of the day with a varsity bus going to Conference. I mean, maybe, maybe that is what my job was, to prevent the bus from leaving too early. And then that would give Sniffles some time to get into position or something. But that is just stupid. What good would that do? I mean, all you would have to do is just wait for the bus to come around, like maybe pretend your car is broken down in the middle of the road. The bus has to stop. And then, I mean, you just walk into the bus with a gun or something and take the money. I mean, you don't need another guy to make that happen. You just have to have your shit together and make sure you don't get seen. I mean, that is another thing. I mean, you would want to do that sort of thing in like a canyon or something. Maybe on the road between Casper and Lander. Where there is a long stretch of highway and no one around. I mean, forget the canyon idea. That is the opposite of what you would want to do. Create a bottle neck? I don't think so. Ignore that. I mean, still, he showed up in the afternoon. Half-sweaty. Wherever he got that duffel bag, it was nearby. Nearby enough that he thought it was a good idea to come to the motel room to check what was inside. I mean, right? I mean, so maybe it wasn't money in the bag. But then what? Drugs, naturally, but, I mean, what is the point of coming to the motel to look in the duffel bag to peep on the drugs for two seconds and then ditch? I mean, the money, I could understand. You kind of want to know if you have a bunch of money in a duffel bag. I mean, right? But drugs, I feel like you would check out the drugs the second you got them. Because, in theory you would be handing over money. You wouldn't want to just be carrying around a duffel bag of sand or something, right? You would want to know what was in the bag ASAP. I mean, in theory. In theory there was money in that duffel bag. Money that Sniffles was uncertain of. But why the Lander Valley Tigers bag? That seems really odd to me. I mean, if it was me and some dude just handed me a duffel bag I wouldn't want it to be some swim team bag. And if it was a swim team bag, I would ditch it ASAP. I mean, right? I mean, that is what I would do. But then again it is Sniffles. The guy is a miser. I mean, if that is something you say. Miser. I mean, he is cheap. That is what I mean. Real cheap. So cheap that I am surprised that he paid a week in advance for this skanky motel room. I mean, that alone makes me think he will be back at some point. I mean, either that or there was quite a large amount of cash in that duffel bag. I mean, for him to just write off $150 bucks or whatever. However much these rooms cost for a week. And I wouldn't put it past him to hold onto that duffel bag to save a few dollars. But still, I mean, whoever gave him that bag has some connection to the swim team. Even if it is in the past. I mean, you don't just end up with a Lander Valley Tigers swim team duffel bag on accident. You are either on, or were on the team, or were a manager or a coach or something. Or you work at the school. I mean, maybe the whole thing was an inside job? Like the custodian and the Coach are in cahoots. But still. That seems stupid. I mean, Sniffles is also too cheap to have more than one guy extra in on his schemes. And in theory, I am the other guy, right? Or not. I mean, in theory I am just his alibi. And an unwitting alibi at that. I suppose. I mean, I don't know that for sure. I can't remember our drinking and smoking marathon. I just remember getting here and then watching the dog, JuJu Beans licking my heel. I mean, I remember taking off my shoe and my sock and then Sniffles leaving. Leaving the fucking door open like an animal. I mean. I mean, I don't know. It must be money. That is all I can think. If it is drugs it doesn't make sense.

But maybe it is drugs? Maybe Sniffles just needed to know that the drugs were inside the duffel bag before he met up with the next guy to take the drugs? I mean, that still doesn't explain what I have to do with anything, but it would explain why he would come here and look in the duffel bag and then leave again. Half-sweaty. I mean, it is a little bit of a leap, but in theory it is possible. I mean, everything is possible, right? It is more a question of what is likely. I mean, I don't think it is likely that there was drugs in that duffel bag, but it is possible.

I mean, it wasn't guns or some such nonsense. The duffel bag looked light. Or, not heavy, I mean. And I doubt it was like diamonds or something. I mean, I don't know. I am just going to assume it was money. So there. Let's just say it was money and be done with it. I feel like I am muddying the waters if I continue to think it is something else, right? I mean, if something changes we can revisit this thought process. For now though, it is money that is in the Lander Valley Tigers duffel bag. Case closed.

Okay, so there is money in the bag. Check. Sniffles shows up in the middle of the afternoon half-sweaty. Check. He comes into the room. Leaves the door open like an animal. Check, check. Looks inside the duffel bag. Check. Then leaves again without closing the door because he is an animal. I mean, check on that. I mean, those are the facts. Those are good facts. True facts. I mean, so what though? That gets us nowhere. Aside from maybe the duffel bag has money in it. That, and the fact that the duffel bag is a Lander Valley Tigers swim bag. I mean, in theory someone from the swim team or someone that was once on the swim team or somebody that works at the school is somehow involved. Okay, so what? A local dude is involved. I mean, it could be a woman, I guess. But I wouldn't count on that. Shit like this very rarely involves women. Not because woman don't do shady shit, but because mostly they aren't stupid enough to do shady shit like this. The pay isn't worth it. I mean, assuming. I mean, who knows? Maybe Sniffles is just coming to Lander to deal with his MeeMaw's banking issues? Or something. And he knows it will take some time so he rented a motel room so he didn't have to stay at her home or something? But then again, that dude is cheap, and as far as I can tell he has never done nothing for nobody that didn't benefit himself. I mean, I can only assume that also includes his grandma. I mean, we can forget about that theory. I mean, so. A local jerk is involved somehow. He hands Sniffles a duffel bag filled with money. Sniffles drives it back here. Comes into the room. Half-sweaty. Looks into the bag. Leaves. Leaving the door open the whole time. I mean, maybe he was born in a barn, but I think this has something to do with shit. I mean, he obviously didn't care who saw him. I mean, meaning, I mean, I don't know what that means. I mean, why did he leave the door open this morning when he left? I mean, do you think he really put some bacon grease on my heel or something? Is he that clever that he would lure a dog into the motel room only to get the Matron and Danny and the cops involved? I mean, if that is true, I mean, kudos to the guy. I didn't think he would have it in him to be that smart. And if he is that smart, then what? Did he really drug me? Fake the drinking? Did he know that some part of me would just stick around, acting like some idiot dangling camera? Or was that just an accident? I mean, and I mean, why ketamine? I mean, it has to be, right? I mean, I don't know of any other drug that can disconnect your body from your brain like this. I mean, I don't know. Because I do know that even if you do ketamine and you get seperated like this, it doesn't mean your body goes around doing other shit without you, you know what I mean? Like hanging out with a dog. Playing frisbee or whatever. Going to Hell's Half Acre. Sharing your ice cream sandwich doubler wrapper. Rolling down the window so the doggers can get some air. I mean, I am not even a dog guy. I mean, I couldn't even tell you what kind of dog JuJu Beans is. Medium-brown. He is a medium-brown chowser. Is that a dog breed? Chowser? I mean, maybe I am conflating breeds. Chowster? Browser? Bronzer? I mean, isn't a Boxer a dog? Chow-hound? Or is that like somebody that eats a lot of food? I mean, you got me. I mean, either way, here I am dangling in this corner like a salty booger and my body is out there living it up. Eating ice cream sandwiches. Hanging out with JuJu Beans.

I mean, where was I? I can't even remember. I mean, maybe I am jealous. I mean, I can't even finish my thoughts without thinking how good my body has it. And poor me, just dangling here. Trying to get some sort of clue about how fucked up shit is. I mean, the drugs will wear off eventually, right? I mean, I have to believe that because otherwise I may have a huge fucking freakout. I mean, I am already a little insanely bored at the moment. And to think that this will last forever. I mean, that is not a good feeling. I mean, not that I have any real feelings about it, but still. I mean, Sniffles, that cheap bastard, he will come back eventually. And I will too. I mean, I hope. Otherwise I don't know what I will do. I can't just dangle here watching the Matron fart out orgasms for eternity. I mean, well, not really. Eternity is a long time. I would imagine that if indeed I am stuck here forever something will change, eventually. But I don't want to go there. That is just too depressing. In theory. I mean, I suppose I would adapt, but still. The idea of being stuck dangling like a salty booger camera in some skanky motel in Lander fucking Wyoming. I mean, even if it is just in theory it is too much to wrap my head around. I mean.

I mean, so Sniffles lures me here from Casper. Tells me to bring gin and smokes. Doral 100s. He drugs me. In theory. Does a drink faker. He doesn't get drunk. I get wasted. Smoke a million cigarettes. Wake up with one shoe off. One sock off. A dog licking my heel. I get up. Go to the 2002 Chrysler Sebring, plain colored. Take the dog with me. Drive off into the sunset. Okay. There is that. I mean, the question being, Am I supposed to be some alibi for Sniffles? Or am I in on the thing? I mean, every indication is that I am just his patsy. And if that is true, why the fuck did he show up in the middle of the day, half-sweaty, just to look inside a duffel bag for two seconds with the fucking door open? I mean, if I am his alibi, then the crime he committed happened last night when I was drunk and passed out, right? So what's up with the turn around? I mean, there is every indication that he committed whatever crime it was just before coming back. And if that is true, I mean, I was halfway to Casper by that point, right? Pulling off the road to show JuJu Beans Hell's Half Acre, right? I mean, if that isn't true than I am also part of this scheme and since I can't remember what we talked about, I don't have any idea what that means. And, I mean, to be frank, I feel like I shouldn't show my ass back here at the motel again. I mean, not if I don't want the cops called on me. I mean, the cop said he wouldn't come back around unless there was an actual emergency. I mean, I think me showing up with the dog again would constitute and actual emergency. I mean, that is to say if, in fact, that dog does belong to the Matron. Whom, I am starting to think is lying about. I mean, I really am starting to believe that the dog is not her dog at all. So, I mean, maybe I know this somehow. I mean, my body does? Or Sniffles does. I mean, for all I know my body and Sniffles had a meet-up at some point and things didn't end up so good. And the reason he came back here half-sweaty is because something went wrong and my body is laying in some sagebrush somewhere in the badlands. Struggling for breath and Sniffles is desperately driving to Denver to cut the murderers off at the pass and hand the money to some other guy that is going to have him killed for the same reason that I am now dying for. I mean, ugh! Why won't anyone come back and sort this shit out in the motel room? I mean, it all just seems like a mis-understanding. I mean, I guess if I am dying at the moment I would feel it? Right? I mean, I feel just fine. Bored as shit, but my thinking is astute. I mean, in theory. I mean, what the hell do I know? I am just a stalagmite camera dangling in the breeze in some skanky motel room in Lander fucking Wyoming. Stalactite? What is the one that drips downward?