Luck of the Draw

Chapter 4 - Of Mice and Men

Teddy parked his car in front of the Waterfall Motel and pulled down his visor mirror. He tousled his free form, sandy haircut, bared his teeth for examination and gave his face a general once over. Satisfied he was still his own interpretation of Robert Redford, he climbed out and strutted to the office.

This would be his base of operations. From here he would execute his assault on the unsuspecting community, ringing up unbelievable sales numbers. The reception area was almost steamy it was so hot. Stepping in from a brisk end of November day, his pores sprang open, under his winter topcoat, gushing perspiration. His shirtsleeves affixed to his skin like Saran.

"Welcome to the Waterfall." A stubby little man with huge black-framed glasses greeted him. A cut-off t-shirt announcing Neil Diamond's, Solitary Man stretched taut over dunes of stomach flab. "A haven of rest for the weary traveller."

Teddy looked around and saw a plaster fountain as a replica of a cliff with water running over it, the action provided by a noisy pump motor—obviously the derivation of the establishment's name.

"I'd like a nice room with a view... if you have one." He looked again at the display.

"All the rooms are nice, mister. And we have the street view," he pointed behind Teddy. "The garden view or the ravine view." The glasses slid down a sweaty nose.

"The ravine sounds interesting. What are the rates for say, a week?" Teddy asked, opening his coat and whooshing out a blast of air.

"A week!" The man almost drooled as he jammed the glasses back in place, flipped open a huge ledger and offered Teddy a pen. "You are one lucky son-of-a-gun. Our convention crowd just checked out, and we have a bit of a dry spell. I can offer you the ravine view room for five hundred for six nights." He beamed and gently urged the book toward Teddy.

In spite of wilting inside his clothes, Teddy geared himself for a selling duel. "That's seems a little high for a slow period. Tell you what I'll do." He leaned on the ledger and smiled his sales pitch smile. "One week, two-fifty and you can just do the room every other day."

"Four-fifty and I do it before you leave." Came the quick reply.

"Three-fifty and I do it myself." Teddy was quicker.

"Done. You are a tough one, Mister..."

Teddy slapped the counter and scribbled his name in the ledger. "Teddy Playford, sales representative for NaturGro." He accepted the key and directions to the room and swaggered back to his car. Smiling inwardly, he felt this trip was going to be a piece of cake.

The euphoria evaporated when he let himself into the room. A single bed with a curtained off area for a closet and an antique chest of drawers with a crazed mirror that had cracked and partially slipped in the frame, giving his reflection a staggered image. He marched through to the bathroom and the depression increased. The shower was a hand held spray over a cement pad in one corner and the toilet was squeezed behind the door next to the water-stained sink.

He went back to the main room, dragged back the opaque drapes and squinted through the dusty screen to his ravine view. An impenetrable stand of dense bush that had been left to its own devices crept ominously close to the back wall of the motel. Teddy envisioned all sorts of denizens slinking out after dark. A note explained how to adjust the air-conditioner and a postscript that described the location of the electric baseboard heater.

The telephone only reached the office and he had to place all his calls, at a fee, through the motel switchboard. His complaint about the room was ignored, reminded nastily that he was the one that negotiated the deal. He decided to take the car, head into town and scope out the territory; maybe grab a bite somewhere nice. Thank goodness he had an expense budget.