Fix My Feet When They're Stumblin'

Chapter 46

    The soft songs of a cricket choir filled the evening sky as the small family trudged into the hotel lobby, then to the front desk, their shoulders slumped in fatigue. Ammon and Gunnar controlled a metal cart loaded with bags while Brandon trailed behind them all, barely able to walk in a straight line, stumbling in exhaustion. Tired. The clerk - a young, pimply man with dark, curly hair tied in a ponytail - looked up from his computer and smiled half-heartedly.

    "Hey, you folks looking for a room?"

    Tana nodded, sweeping her hair out of her face. "Please, do you have any suites available?"

    The clerk returned to his computer for a few seconds, clicking through their database as he checked the room inventory. "Ummm...oh, yeah, there's a suite on the fourth floor, a queen in a connected room with a pair of twin beds, will that work?"

    "Please, and then another separate room with a queen bed, as well."

    "Sure, sure," the young man said absently, fishing plastic keys cards from a drawer and activating them on his computer. Tana paid for the rooms and accepted the keys from the man. As she turned to hand Olivia the key to the room that she'd share with Ronnie, the clerk jerked his head at Brandon in the back of the group.

    "What's wrong with him? You drunk, buddy?" the man snorted to himself, offering a lopsided grin to Brandon as he stood next to Ronnie, swaying in weariness, his eyes fixed on his feet behind his sunglasses.

    "Shut your mouth and mind your own damn business," Tana snarled, whirling back to face the man at once, her body suddenly tense and charged with hostility. Ronnie stepped protectively in front of his friend, blocking the clerk's view of him.

     What...? Brandon hadn't seen the exchange, but he had heard it, and he blinked blearily at the speckled brown tiled floor, trying to process what the clerk had said.

    "Whoa, shit, alright, alright, I'm sorry!" the clerk backpedaled, raising his hands in surrender. Tana scoffed at him, her eyes filled with contempt, and herded the group away toward the elevators in front of the desk.

    Brandon felt her soft touch on the small of his back, and saw his wife peer up at him, her eyes unusually bright. "Come on, Brandon," she whispered. "The elevator's just over here. We need to get you to bed, don't we? Come with me - go slow, okay?"

    One foot after the other, Brandon allowed her to guide him to the elevator, and they all crowded in. "Hold onto the rail really tight, baby," she whispered in his ear, wrapping her arm around his hips to protect his balance as the slight jerk of the rising elevator unsettled him. A sick feeling was beginning to bubble in his stomach as he realized what the clerk had said - what he meant. Oh...oh.

    When the doors opened with a soft chime, the group filed out, searching the hall for their rooms. Walking briskly, Tana and Olivia quickly left Brandon behind, and the kids ran to keep up with them on shorter legs.

    Slowed by his crutches, Ronnie stayed by Brandon's side as he struggled through the brightly lit hallway on increasingly unsteady legs. He saw the moment when his friend gave up and leaned into the wall in defeat, pressing his forehead into his arm against the wall, gasping for breath.

   Keeping his voice hushed, he called down to the rest of the group. "Tana, Livvie, wait - slow down. You have to slow down, Brandon can't keep up."

    Brandon closed his eyes, blocking out the world, and tried to control his heavy breathing. He could feel everything very keenly, and he decided it was a supremely uncomfortable experience.