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Loving you forever, can't be wrong

Night had fallen and the reassuring peace of the darkness embraced us again. I was driving, trying not to fall asleep. On my right, Hannibal rested, even though I knew he wasn't really asleep. The Jeep was more modern, spacious, better heated, with a larger tank and consumed less fuel. A good choice. I passed a road sign announcing Monterey, on the 220, with still enough gas left to get out of the state of Virginia. Even though we had seen other motorists on the road in the afternoon, none had been a police car. Earlier I had turned on the radio to hear the news. And, as I had hoped, they spoke of a hit-and-run, after a traffic control gone bad. Local journalists talked about the ongoing search for us too, before reciting a toll-free number for a hotline to leave tips for the investigators. According to the very vague information, they had said nothing to the press, or the investigation wasn't progressing. But we had no way of knowing. Were they on our tracks?

In doubt, we had to be very careful. But we couldn't avoid certain things and time wasn't on our side. It rained for two hours and the bitter cold kept us from sleeping in the car, or worse, in the wilderness. In the dead of night, the temperature dropped below freezing, forcing us to find a motel with the risk of being recognized, leading to the police catching us while sleeping. Then I thought of a very simple plan.

It was almost midnight and I drove on the road 92, alongside the river Knapp Creek. We'd just refueled the car. But as I felt about to drift asleep again, I decided to stop. I was going to drive to the village of Minnehaha Springs, when a road sign caught my attention. On the road 39, approximately three miles away, lay Huntersville, and the coincidence was too beautiful.

I approached the small town, when a motel suddenly appeared in the dark, on my left. The only one around here, probably. And this time, I burst into laughter while I was parking as far as possible from the reception, in the totally deserted parking lot. Hannibal opened his eyes and gave me a questioning gaze.

"Something funny?"

"Welcome to Devil's Backbone Inn, Huntersville's only motel."

He smirked, sharing in the irony of the situation.

"I am going to go to ask for a room, alone. Wait until I'm in the office, then sneak out of car, and wait for me over there." I said, pointing to the corner of the building, just in front of us, into the shadow.

"I prefer to do it myself…"

"No." I interrupted him, putting firmly a hand on his arm. "Unlike you, I look like an average Joe. The manager will not be wary of a single man. I just have to keep my head down and, in a few hours, he won't even be able to remember the color of my jacket or my hair. But for that, he mustn't see you."

He sighed in resignation.

"I don't like the idea of you going alone. But… fine."

I caressed his arm, before taking his hand.

"I'll be with you in a few minutes." Don't worry, I wanted to add, but I didn't. "Just stay invisible like you usually do." I said instead, caressing his fingers, before opening my car door.

He nodded and I went out into the night. There were two floors and lights were all out. We'd be the only guests in the hotel. It could be a good thing or a bad one. We'd know soon enough.

I walked to the reception, hands in my pockets and cap on my head. When I opened the front door, a bell rang over my head and a fifty-year-old petite woman raised her green eyes to me from behind the counter behind which she was standing.

"Good evening" She said. "You're lucky, I'm about to close up." She slid a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned over the desk. "One room?"

"Please." I answered.

"Are you alone?"

"I'm to visit my parents, in Tennessee" I improvised.

"The young people who care about their parents are too rare these days. I hope you have a nice trip."

"Not too bad. It's a beautiful region."

She smiled.

"Have you an ID card?" She asked.

I gave her my passport and she noted my fake name on her register, before taking the key number 10 and putting it on the counter.

"Excuse me; is it possible to have a room on the ground floor?" I asked, looking embarrassed.

"It depends if you pay in advance."

And I understood she was afraid that I'd take advantage of it and leave without paying.

"Of course." I answered, pulling out some money from my pocket.

She cashed in and gave me the key to room number 9. The farthest room from here. Luck was on my side tonight.

"I'll let you sleep. Don't worry about me, I'll manage alone." I concluded, falsely friendly.

"I didn't dare ask it. Thank you and good night, Mr. Dancy."

"Good night."

I returned quietly to the car, when I had an idea. I waited until all the lights were off before opening the Jeep and releasing the handbrake. I turned the steering wheel to the right before pushing the car with all my strength. It hardly moved. Without question, Hannibal emerged from the shadows and helped me. Slowly and silently, we went around the building to under the window of our room, in front of a secondary road which sank into the forest behind the hotel.

"Our escape route." He said.

"Exactly." I approved, proud of my idea. "Wait here." I added, before running in front of the motel.

I opened the door of the room, entered without switching on the light and unlocked the window. Outside, Hannibal had already taken the initiative to get the bags out of the trunk and gave them to me one by one. Then he entered and I smiled, seeing him climbing over the window. He dusted his pants and gave me a questioning look.

"I feel as if I'm fourteen and trying to sneak my boyfriend in on the sly."

"You had boyfriends when you were fourteen?"

"Absolutely not, but that's what happens in the movies."

"I think we don't watch the same kind of movies."

I burst out laughing, seeing his disapproving face.

…

It was a new dreary room, with a bathroom equally murky, but I was too tired to pay it any attention. Hannibal made no comment either. After a quick shower, we went to bed snuggled up next to each other, resting fully clothed on the sheets, ready to flee the scene, if necessary. The night was going to be short.

…

The pale rays of the winter sun found us in each other's arms. No incident had disturbed our sleep but my stomach didn't leave me in peace. I was hungry for real food, not the junk food from the vending machine. Carefully, I got up, and immediately, I was cold without Hannibal's body against mine. I quickly got dressed and, before I went, I opened the drawer of the nightstand to take a notebook and a pen stored next to a Bible – totally blasphemous in view of the motel's name – to write a note concerning my whereabouts, in case he would wake up before my return. Then I went out the window, rather than the door. The manager certainly thought that I had already left and it was convenient for us.

I walked to the city center, staying under the cover of trees a few steps from the road. Once on the main street, I was hurrying towards the grocery store, my hands in my pockets and my head down. It was early and, in the small store, the boss and the cashier waited for their first customers. I said hello and took a basket before browsing the shelves. I seized sandwiches, beef jerky, a bag of Cheetos, a box of donuts, a lemon meringue pie and some apples. And a backpack to not use plastic bags. Hannibal was going to sulk, but gourmet meals wouldn't be on the menu for a while.

At the register, the young woman who had to be twenty years old, scanned the items, and I put them in my bag. The door opened again and out of the corner of my eye I noticed two policemen entering. Keeping a relaxed posture required a superhuman effort. My heart beat so fast in my chest, pulsed on my temples, against my eardrums. I wiped the sweat on my forehead. The agents passed behind me without paying any attention to me and spoke directly to the boss.

"Hello, Greg." Said one of the two. "Tell me, did you hear about the incident of yesterday on 48?"

"Are you kidding me? It's all we talk about. Not much happens around here." Answered the man named Greg, who wore a too small shirt.

"Then, maybe you can tell us about a Chevrolet 4x4 registered in Maryland."

"I haven't seen anything like that. But if this guy comes from the city, he had to sleep somewhere. Did you ask Gwen?"

Gwen had to be the manager of the motel. I acted as natural as possible and closed my bag, before paying.

"Thank you." I murmured, before walking slowly towards the exit.

"No, we were going to go to see her actually." I heard when I walked out of the store.

Once outside, I ran across the street and back to the hotel, like my life depended on it.

…

The cold air burned in my lungs, my legs hurt, but wild horses couldn't stop me. I was running fast as I could between the trees, nearly falling several times. Every minute counted and I finally got out of the forest, just behind the motel, without slowing down, before reaching the open window. In the rush, I almost broke a pane when I went back to the room. Inside, Hannibal packed up all our things. He was immediately worried about my behavior.

"In the car, now!" I shouted, taking a bag before throwing it outside.

Without asking for an explanation, he followed me, and a few seconds later, we were in the Jeep while other vehicles arrived in front of the building. We remained silent, while car doors slammed and boots scraped on the gravel of the parking lot in the quiet winter morning. We waited for a moment, to be sure that they were in the hotel, then Hannibal started the car and we went deep into the woods.

…

Our only option was to get back on the main road. Hoping the policemen would believe that we had left a long time ago and would search for us in Tennessee. I looked in the rearview mirror until I was sure they weren't following us.

"What happened?" Hannibal finally asked, after a few miles, putting a hand on my neck.

His touch calmed me and I released my breath, before telling him the last events. He listened to me, without a word, playing with my hair.

"It was a good idea, to park behind the motel. You saved us, Will."

"My stomach saved us." I said, laughing awkwardly. "Speaking of which…"

I opened the bag and took out the Cheetos, before eating a handful and offering it to Hannibal. Some chips fell at my feet and the way he looked at me, made me feel like a child who had made a mistake.

"Wha…? …am hungr…" I said with my mouth full.

He had a horrified expression on his face and I swallowed smiling to him innocently.

"Don't you like Cheetos? Everybody likes it, Hannibal."

"It is only some popped corn, flavored with powder cheese and hydrogenated fats."

"Maybe, but it's good." I sighed. "There's pie and some apples, if you want."

"Granny Smith?" He asked, interested.

"Yes." I replied. "But first, you are going to taste a Cheetos. For me." I added, giving him a chip.

I had expected him to refuse, but he surprised me when he took my fingers between his lips. The contact lasted only one second but the silky warmth of his tongue stayed on my skin. He chewed, with a focused expression, as if he wanted to register every nuance of the flavors.

"Like I said…"

"I get it." I interrupted him.

I gave him an apple which he accepted with gratitude, before biting into it. We sped ahead like the wind and nothing and no one could stop us. Or so I thought.