The Black Train Part 41

She got out of the car and walked to his side in a daze. "Where are you going now?"

"I have to figure out a way to get my luggage and laptop out of that room. You go to work now, but I'll be back a little later."

She leaned down to the window. "You're something, you know that? Last night you really could've-"

"But I didn't." He grinned at her. More visions of her impeccable nudity swam before him. "Believe me, it wasn't easy."

"Are you looking down my blouse, Mr. Collier?"

"Yeah."

She kissed him and laughed. "See you later," she said, then rushed embarra.s.sed to unlock the tavern's doors.

But Collier's lifted spirits began to sink when he drove back up to the inn. The blazing daylight didn't offer as much comfort as he wished. He already knew that he could not reenter the house, daylight or not.

He jumped out of the car when he spotted Jiff emptying the ashtrays on the porch.

"Hey, Jiff! I need to talk to you-"

The younger man sat down and slouched on a front bench. "Howdy, Mr. Collier."

"Jiff, are you all right?" Collier asked when he noticed the man's bloodshot eyes and sagging posture.

"Had too much to drink last night, Mr. Collier."

Good. Then maybe you don't remember watching me in bed with your mother and sister, Collier thought.

"You ever drunk so much you're still drunk the next day?"

"All the time."

"Well, that's how I feel now."

Maybe this'll perk him up. Collier took a fifty out of his wallet. "Jiff, I need a big favor. I need you to go up to my room and get my suitcase and laptop. I have to check out now."

Jiff slumped in the seat. "Shee-it, Mr. Collier, I sure hope you ain't leavin' on account'a what happened..." But then the sentence collapsed.

"On account of what happened last night?" Collier said. "In...your mother's room?"

Jiff thumbed his eyes.

"What did happen, Jiff? Was that really us...or was it the house?"

Jiff's eyes leveled. "It was the house doin' stuff to us, I guess is how ya'd put it. Shee-it. And that's why you don't wanna go back in, huh?"

"Yeah, Jiff."

"Oh, it's okay now. It don't happen much, just...every now'n then: the dreams and what'cha hear sometimes'n see, or think ya see. And what'cha do. But Ma says it's the house goin' through some sort of cycle. Been that way since the war."

Collier didn't care.

"Ma also says it's certain folks who start the cycle, but I ain't never really figured that one."

Certain folks, Collier thought.

Again, he didn't care. "I think I'll...stay outside anyway."

"Okay, Mr. Collier." Jiff dragged himself up and took the fifty. "I'll be right back down with yer stuff."

"Oh, and could you tell your mother to get my bill?" Collier asked. "She already ran my card."

"Sure thing."

Collier released a long breath.

When he looked at the fat oak tree out front, he smiled. The tree looked just like any other.

A man with longish blond hair-obviously dyed-was walking up the path, carrying a small suitcase. He waved to Collier.

"d.a.m.n glad I found you, Justin. Christ, what's going on?"

Collier couldn't believe his eyes. He knew that dyed hair and phony tan anywhere. "Sammy?"

The man stepped up in a tacky Hawaiian s.h.i.+rt, blue jeans with starched creases, and gator-skin boots. "Man, I hate those six-hour flights. And driving here? What a pain in the a.s.s."

What the h.e.l.l is HE doing here? Collier wondered.

"And congratulations on snagging that third slot from me...f.u.c.ker." Savannah Sammy smiled with bleached teeth; they shook hands.

"Sammy, why are you here?"

"'cos you're here, and for what reason I couldn't pretend to guess. Prentor told me you left some nutty message on his voice mail, said you're not coming back to the show. Then he tries to call you back fifty times but says you never answered."

s.h.i.+t. The storm last night... And Collier's phone was upstairs. Probably fifty screaming messages on it.

Sammy's eyes thinned. "Tell me it's bulls.h.i.+t, Justin. Your ratings jumped. You don't turn down a contract renewal when your show skyrockets to the third slot."

"It's no bulls.h.i.+t," Collier said. "I'm not going to sign the contract."

Sammy smiled. "Sure, I get it. You're holding out for more-cool. That's why I'm here, my man. Prentor sent me here to convince you to come back. I know how it works-you don't take the first offer. But I'm prepared to up that by-"

Collier shook his head, amused. "I'm not holding out, Sammy. I don't want to do the show anymore."

Sammy's tan face creased. "Another channel made an offer? We're prepared to counteroffer."

"You're not hearing me. I'm not coming back. I'm burned out. I'm sick of being on TV..."

Savannah Sammy looked on the verge of grabbing Collier's throat. "Justin! You just got voted s.e.xiest man on the Food Network! You don't walk away from that!"

"I'm walking." Collier winked. "But look at the bright side. With me gone, you're back in the third seat, right behind Emeril and what's her name."

Sammy's hair spray began to break. "You just hit the big time, brother! No one says no to that!"

"I do. I'm just going to write beer books and relax. I'm not even coming back to L.A."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"Here," Collier said. "I'm staying right here, in Gast."

One of Sammy's eyes began to twitch. "This is a Civil War tourist town in b.u.mf.u.c.k Tennessee!"

"That's right." Collier patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry you came all this way for nothing, man. But my mind's made up..."

"Jesus. Prentor's not gonna believe it..." But then Sammy's eyes flicked to the door's gla.s.s panel. "Hey, check out this old woman with the fantastic bod. Holy s.h.i.+t."

Mrs. Butler was coming through the doors, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and wide hips highlighted in a clingy dress.

"And look at the little fireplug behind her!" Sammy added.

It was Lottie who followed her mother, in a halter and cutoff shorts barely bigger than a bikini.

"Mr. Collier, I'm so sorry you won't be stayin' any longer," Mrs. Butler lamented. "Jiff said you needed to check out right now."

"Yeah, I do. But I'm not exactly leaving town." Collier signed his credit card receipt and returned it.

Lottie grinned at him. She mouthed, Let's screw...

Some things never change, Collier thought.

But Mrs. Butler was already staring. "My goodness gracious!" She grabbed Collier's arm. "Am I lookin' at who I think I'm lookin' at?"

This'll be great! "Mrs. Butler, let me introduce you to Food Network star Savannah Sammy-"

"-of Savannah Sammy's Sa.s.sy Smokehouse!" the old woman shrilled with delight. Lottie's eyes snapped to Sammy's crotch.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." Sammy extended his hand.

The woman almost fainted. "Oh, I just LOVE your show! And, please, please, call me Helen! Are we blessed enough that you'll be staying with us?"

Sammy hesitated, his eyes pasted to Mrs. Butler's bosom. "Well..."

"Stay a few days, Sammy," Collier goaded. He put a hand on each of their shoulders, and urged them to enter. "It's the best bed-and-breakfast you've ever seen in your life."

Sammy's eyes couldn't settle on whose body to examine harder: Mrs. Butler or Lottie. "Yeah, I guess I could stay a few days..."

Collier squeezed the old woman's shoulder. "Mrs. Butler, why don't you check Sammy into my old room?"

"Oh, I'd be happy to! Come on inside, Mr. Sammy!"

Lottie grabbed Sammy's bag and followed them in.

"Later, Sammy," Collier bid.

"Yeah, yeah-we'll talk-"

No we won't, Collier thought. He chuckled under his breath. This house is gonna LOVE him...

Jiff came back out with Collier's suitcase and laptop. "Well, here's your stuff, Mr. Collier. It's been great knowin' ya."

"I'll be seeing you around, Jiff. I'm moving here."

Jiff gaped through his hangover. "You kiddin'?"

"Nope. I need a change of scenery. Bad."

Jiff paused through some confusion. "Well that's just dandy..."

Collier took the suitcase. "I got some things to tend to right now, but I'll be seeing you around."

"Okay, Mr. Collier." But then Jiff stopped him. "Wait a sec. Before ya leave..." He pulled something out of his pocket. "Didn't know if you wanted these in yer suitcase, ya know?"

He handed Collier Dominique's bra and panties. "Thanks, Jiff. I'll get them back to their rightful owner soon. Take care!"

Collier stowed his gear in the car and drove off.

Jiff just shook his head. "What the h.e.l.l does he wanna move here for?" he muttered.

II.

Jiff decided to blow off the rest of the day; the hangover had thoroughly ragged him out, and with his mother and sister fussing over that Sammy guy who'd just checked in...

They'll never know I'm gone.

Instead, Jiff moseyed over to the Spike, but not to turn any tricks. s.h.i.+t, I'm even too hungover for that...For a hangover of this magnitude, there was only one real cure.

The long, dark bar had no customers this early, just Buster-in his vest and Frankenstein's-monster haircut-hanging up some gla.s.ses.

"Jiff. Can't believe you're in here after all those beers you pounded last night."

"Buster, I need me some hair'a the dog."

"Don't know where you put it." Buster slid him a beer. "How's business?"

"Sucks."

They both laughed at the same time.

"Heard you're cutting off old J.G. That true?"