Rates of Exchange, Chapter 2

The insurance man got the call at about 4 AM. "Go down to the Easy-Way on 15 and have a look around. The story's a little confused. The firemen are still there - talk to them and see what you think." "I'll talk to them in the morning," he said. "They'll be doing mop-up." He replaced the phone on his bedside table and lay back on his pillow. His wife stirred next to him - muffled loyalties to warmth and safety. He turned on his side to face her, the face he had been married to for 25 years. He stared at her for a few seconds. Sleep took him about a minute later.

As he slipped through the various layers of consciousness, the mental shaft finally taking him past the threshold of deep sleep, his eyes began the rapid cycling that indicates the brain's preparedness for the dream-state. He was uncomfortable - as much as he was able to perceive that - but not physically.

"Dip him in sugar," said one uniformed presence to the other. Or was he talking to him? HIs heart began to pound. "He's ready...." said the other. A bell sounded.

The insurance man woke up with the covers around his neck, sweating. His heart thudding heavily in his chest and blood roaring in his ears. His wife reached across him and shut off the alarm.

The Easy-Way motel was a long curving structure set back from the highway by about a thousand feet. The original structure was a stick-built box with various pseudo-art-deco embellishments under the eves and gables. The new owner of the spot had seen the value in the undeveloped hot springs behind the motel and razed the original. He kept the name as a tip of the respectful hat in the direction of the locals. He rebuilt the sign in the original style, but bigger, and used deeply varnished rough-hewn local timber for the face. The new motel was decidedly upscale in the tradition of the luxury hotels owned by the railways where they found a market for city dwellers in the the high mountains. Glaciers and staggering peaks formed the line to the north, all of it visible from each of the room in the arch. A night there would relieve the average citizen of a week's pay. The locals, with that wisdom that is peculiar to people that live by weather and season, still referred to the place as the Sleazy - Way.

The insurance man pulled in to the motel forecourt and sat in his car for a minute. Nothing looked out of place except for the fire department van parked around the side. He saw the fire chief sitting in the van filling out paperwork on a form holder clipboard combination much like the one he would use today. The insurance man got out of the car and walked over to the chief. The chief nodded at the insurance man - they were distantly related by marriage and not much else but they had the easy friendliness of having spent much of the same parts of their lives in much of the same places: the Legion, the bowling alley, Rotary.

"'Morning Dale," said the fire chief.
"'Morning to you, Frank. Cold wind today."
"Yep. Outa the north. Just comes down that mountain. How's Doris?"
"Fine, fine.... Francine? She's graduating this year, no?"
"Yep. Don't know that that's the end of it. Talkin' about a master's degree..."
"Ah. Good, good. So, what happened here?"
"Well, just a kitchen accident. Stove fire. Guest boiled a pot dry and the handle collapsed on another burner and smoke alarm kicked in. The owner was first on scene and hit it with water, it scattered and the curtains caught fire. He dragged those outside. I've got them in the back if you want to see them. Weird thing though. Other guests said they saw him acting all weird in front of the room and so we asked. Well, he swears she saw a snake and ran out the front door. Wouldn't go back in but he knew he had a pot on. Not much damage. Some smoke. Counter top range needs replacing maybe."
"Okay...... The insurance man shook his head. Snake, huh? He a weirdo?"
"Aw Dale, I dunno. Everybody looks different these days, you know how it is. At these places you can't tell the investment bankers from some smack with only a skateboard to his name. But I can tell you, I've never seen a snake up here. Ever. Maybe he was having whattya call them, a flashback?"

Dale thought that that was true. He looked at Frank and thought that at least you could tell with him. Straight guy. Normal. Nothing weird there. But Frank was right. You just couldn't tell these days. He sighed. "Okay, I'll call you later if I need to see the curtains."
"No problem. There's a set in there that didn't get touched. See ya."

The fire chief put the FD van in reverse and backed into the forecourt. The insurance man turned and walked inside to find the manager.