Faded With A Stranger

Chapter 11: Almost Home

The motel in Texas was, by comparison, a considerable upgrade from the squalid accommodations they had endured in Mexico. The sun had just begun to set when Chris, Maria, and Ana pulled up to the new establishment, their weary faces reflecting a mix of relief and wariness. The parking lot was poorly lit, but it had a certain degree of order compared to the chaotic mess they had left behind.

The motel, a nondescript building with a faded neon sign that simply read "MOTEL," seemed to offer a small beacon of hope amidst the ongoing ordeal. The exterior of the building was far from pristine, with chipped paint and a few broken windows, but it was a far cry from the dingy, derelict motel they had encountered in Mexico. The area around it was relatively quiet, a welcome change from the noisy chaos of their previous lodgings.

Chris glanced at Maria and Ana as they approached the front desk, noting their cautious optimism. The woman behind the counter, an older lady with a permanent frown etched into her face, greeted them with a nod. Her uniform was slightly stained, and her hair was pulled back in a haphazard bun, but she was polite enough.

"Room for three?" she asked, her voice heavy with a Southern drawl.

Chris nodded. "Yes, please. We need a room for the night."

The clerk slid a key across the counter with a practiced motion. "Room 12. It's not much, but it's clean enough. $60 for the night."

Chris handed over the cash, grateful for the simplicity of the transaction. He took the key and led Maria and Ana toward their room, trying to maintain a positive outlook despite the rough exterior of the motel.

As they reached Room 12, the hallway was dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights casting a sickly yellow glow. The walls were lined with old, stained carpeting, and the air was tinged with a musty odor that seemed to cling to everything.

Chris unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a room that, while better than the Mexican motel, was still far from ideal. The room was small and sparsely furnished, with a single double bed covered in a threadbare quilt that had seen better days. The curtains were tattered, and the carpet, though cleaner than the one in Mexico, had a few noticeable stains.

The bathroom was functional but grimy. The sink was cracked, and the tiles on the floor were chipped. The small shower had a curtain that looked like it had been hastily scrubbed clean, but there were still traces of mildew in the corners.

Maria and Ana stepped in, their expressions a mix of disappointment and relief. They set their bags down and began to inspect the room, their eyes lingering on the less-than-pleasant details.

Maria sighed and looked at Chris. "Better than Mexico, but still not great."

Ana nodded in agreement. "Yes, at least it's not crawling with bugs."

Chris tried to maintain a sense of optimism. "It's a place to rest for the night. We'll be on our way again in the morning."