South Central Noir

The Snooty Fox Motor Inn wasn’t really the kind of motel you’d stay in with a baby; it wasn’t the kind of place you’d stay in with a family or by yourself. Purple — everything was shades of purple except for the shag carpet which was thick and white. The ceilings were mirrored and so was the bathroom. Neither one of them could figure out why anyone would want to see themselves on the toilet. First time Hope saw the mirrored ceiling above the toilet, she shrugged and said, “Freaks got to be freaky.”

She had the key so Maria waited by the door warily looking about, ready to bolt. Soon as they entered the room and locked the door, Maria put a chair against the handle and they both collapsed on the bed with the baby between them. He was wide awake, bright eyes casting about, taking in all the purple and then, to Hope and Maria’s delight, his own image above them on the ceiling. When he waved at himself they both laughed, then Hope’s stomach churned when she realized that the night hadn’t ended.

“We’ve got to go back out.”

“Why?”

“We need formula.”

Maria shrugged and slipped on her sandals. It never seemed to be over because it was never over until you were dead. Neither wanted to go anywhere, not when they could kick it in the motel room, watching cable TV, eating cold pizza, and not having to dodge fools or answer to anybody; but there was no way to consider doing that when Chauncey needed a bottle and they had nothing for him, except sugar water. They wrapped him up again in the Dora blanket, and again they were off at Maria’s break-ass pace. In front of the yellowish glow of the Food 4 Less they parted ways; Hope headed for the interior of the store, picking up a bunch of bananas and diapers, all the time feeling eyes on her. Security there, an even-at-night-sunglass-wearing, grim-faced Latino with tattooed, bulging arms watched her with an ugly smile that was more a leer or a smirk. Once, awhile ago, he’d said something in Spanish that she wasn’t supposed to know. She knew it and it might have been worth six months in juvenile if she had let herself go and smashed him in the face with a jar of pickles, but she’d just shined him on. Those days of acting a fool were gone; everything she did now had to be cold-blooded serious. It was about Chauncey and it was about Maria and then herself. It was about getting the hell out of Dodge before things got worse, and though that was hard to imagine, she was sure that things would get worse.

She glanced at the checkout line and saw Maria conversating with Hector, the used-to-be gangster who now had a job and a wife and kid, but still wanted some of Maria. Hope returned the smile of the security guard scoping on her, and he grunted an acknowledgment. She approached him and stopped close enough to make him take a step backward.

“I need a ride home. You know someone who’d hook me up?” She could see herself reflected in his sunglasses, her long braids hanging about her face, her pretty full lips, and the tightness of her button-up shirt.

“Where do you need to go?” he asked, looking down with a puzzled expression at Chauncey’s bright-blue eyes.

“Somewhere with you,” she said, stepping even closer to him.

The alarm went off at the front of the store and the guard took off to see what was going on. Hope followed.

Maria stood in the path of the electric eye of the sliding doors. She held two cans of formula, the stuff they keep in locked cabinets, waiting for him to arrive.

“Puta!” the security guard shouted, and charged to catch her as she ran. Hope trailed, still clutching the diapers and fruit in one hand and in the other Chauncey, who seemed to sense that something was about to happen and was wary and quiet.

“Fuck you!” Maria shouted as the big-armed guard chased her into the parking lot. Hope set off the alarm too, but the bagger, a big Black footballer she knew from Locke, shrugged and didn’t try to stop her.

Hope waited for the guard, waving his gun above his head, to get closer to Maria, and then she stepped quickly in the opposite direction. As she retreated, she heard the security guard lustily cursing Maria with a surprisingly high-pitched voice, daring her to return. Hope laughed as she hurried away, delighting Chauncey, who laughed along with her.

They arrived at the motel pretty much at the same time. Hope suspected Maria must have run backward the entire way as she sometimes did. She unlocked the door and they exploded inside.

“We can’t go there for a while,” Hope said.

Maria laughed. “That’s what you said last month.”