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Show City Motel 128 He changed knees, crossing right over l e f t this time, sighed again, and rested his chin on his f i s t . Overhead, someone opened a door, set down a suitcase, shuffled around on the concrete, and f i n a l l y closed the door. Harold heard springing footsteps descending the s t a i r s , approaching him with lightness. John, the salesman, grinned at Mr. Jackson out from under a newly-shampooed toupee that appeared bouncy to the touch. "Something about this motel," John said. "Do I feel good! Buck up man," he said to Harold. "There's always the South Seas." " I 'm not going anywhere else," said Mr. Jackson, somber but actually relieved to be s i t t i n g s t i l l on a bag on a welcome mat rather than driving down another new road. It f e l t good to watch the salesman and everyone else leaving while he sat and rocked side to side on his and Mrs. Jackson's suitcase. He took a deep breath and watched the sun warming up the sky, large and glorious. He sniffed the fresh air and started humming ever so s l i g h t l y . Out on the parking l o t , the truck trembled with l i f e . Smoke poured out of the cut-out pipe above the cab as Steve waved good-bye. Mrs. Jackson and the City Motel manager walked back to Mr. Jackson who s t i l l sat on the suitcase. "Okay, now," said the manager. "Have you checked with Western Union?" "Well, l i k e Ecclesiastes says," said Eva Jackson, "we might as well rejoice in our own works instead of driving away from them. You know of any jobs?" " I thought so," said the motel manager. "What can you do?" |
