Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes

Chapters 17 and 18

Chapter 17

The bell attached to the shabby motel clanked as Alan entered. The entire waiting room stank of stale food and sweat. A bulletproof glass booth to his left half obscured a pale elderly woman who looked him up and down without hesitation.

Alan swallowed hard as he made his best attempt at a smile. “Hi, I uh—I need a room for the night.”

The woman, judging Alan, put down her gossip tabloid. The magazine she placed on the counter showed a blurry picture of a fight scene, taking place on a foggy street in upstate New York. The woman squinted through her thick glasses. “Only one night? Need a deposit homeboy.”

“Oh well, you see I’m kinda short on money right now bu—“

“No money, no stay at momma’s palace, homeboy.”

“Wait, what? Did you just call this place a palace?”

The woman raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, of course it is. It’s an amazing palace. Listen, I don’t want a handout, I’ll work or…” Alan groped through his jacket and pant pockets searching for anything that would allow him to convince the woman to let him stay. His right hand felt the form of his empty wallet, his left hand closed on the hard steel keys of the stolen car and his cell phone. “Look! Look, I have this cell phone; it has to be worth one night. Please I just need one night.”

The elderly woman motioned Alan to slide the phone under the dense glass window. She pursed her lips as she rummaged though apps on his phone. “This have internet access, homeboy? Wi-Fi? Bluetooth compatible?

“Yes, yes, it has everything. Top of the line.”

“Humph, okay, one night.”

Alan nodded vigorously.

Even as the woman reached behind her for a worn set of keys with a red tag that read #7, she hesitated. “You in some kind of trouble, homeboy? Momma don’t like having trouble at the palace.”

“No,” Alan lied through his teeth; “I just need a place for the night. I won’t bring momma or the palace any problems.”

“Okay,” the woman released her grasp on the room key and let it slide under the window.

Alan grabbed the key before the woman could rethink her offer and left the office. The woman seemed anything but interested in Alan as he caught her looking down at her new phone.

The walk from the motel office to his room was short. The entire complex was made up of only a dozen or so rooms. The furthest motel was only a few yards away from the lobby.

The motel formed a horseshoe shape around a poorly maintained pool. There were weeds growing up the side of the fence that surrounded the water and its uninviting green tint.

Alan wasted no time in finding his accommodations for the night and letting himself inside. The room was what he expected, small with a scent in the air that reminded him of must and mold. 

He flicked on the lights and closed the door. Alan took in his new surroundings; lumpy bed to his right, a small dresser and TV that looked like they came from a different century and a door further back that Alan guessed led to the bathroom.

What are you doing? What are you going to do? What’s happening to you?

No answer came as he reluctantly sunk into the worn mattress. He knew he couldn’t go home. After not only “borrowing” Tony’s car and being humiliated at school but especially now after experiencing whatever it was that was happening to him.

Alan settled on the bed staring up into the ceiling. Still fully clothed, still with the light turned on and still with no answers. He forced his mind away from thinking about sleeping on a bed that had probably been part of a murder scene at one point or another. Staring at the white cottage cheese ceiling that practically screamed of asbestos, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

 

Chapter 18

“You can do this. You did this before,” Alan paced back and forth at a park just a few blocks away from the motel where he spent the previous night. His stomach rumbled not for the first time as Alan pushed himself to be as fast as he had been the night before.

“Come on!” he yelled in frustration. Pedestrians that bothered to glance at him frowned or shook their head. Alan could only imagine what he looked like: a teenager in a rented tuxedo, yelling to himself in a public park.

Think, in both cases you were afraid. You feared for your life. That has to be it. Whatever is happening is triggered by your will to live.

Alan tried to remember that feeling now; he tried to remember the exact feeling as he fell. He imagined that same grip on his shoulder. The fear being chased had brought gradually spread to every fiber of his body.

He felt himself quiver at the memory of being bullied for so many years. He thought back to his countless nights and days of depression, the feeling of loneliness and the panic that social events usually triggered. Alan felt perspiration start to bead across his brow as angst built up inside. Then Alan forced his eyes open and ran.

Alan ran as fast as his legs would carry him. His feet yelled as they were forced to a dangerous pace, rubbing against his cheaply made, nonetheless-expensive-to-rent tuxedo shoes. Grass blades crunched under foot as Alan streaked across the park.

Eager to see how fast he was moving he turned his head from side to side. Alan felt his jaw drop as he witnessed life all around him taking place at a speed much slower than his own.

People stood still as he moved forward. Birds hung in the air, their wings stuck in place. There was no noise. Everything around Alan looked like a picture, lifelike but unmoving. Alan pulled to a halt, his mind trying to make sense of the impossible. As he stopped, everything around him began to move at a normal pace once again. People continued about their way both on the sidewalk and in the park; horns blew and birds ascended and descended in flight.

No way. There’s no way you’re that fast.

Alan crouched in a kneeling position as he tried to make sense of the puzzle whose pieces lay scattered all around him. Thoughts of superheroes, mutants or evolved humans passed across his mind. In all honesty, there was no telling what he was now. All he knew was that he could move, and he could move fast.

From that moment on Alan promised himself things would be different. Plans started to form in his mind on how he could put this gift of speed to use. His stomach rumbled again.

Priorities, man; food first, money later. Now, what sounds good?

Tingling and laughing aloud, Alan stood from his crouching position. Feet firmly underneath, he ran.