The storm started at around 7:30 PM just south of Clarkdale. The wind came to the motel first before any thunder or rain. I heard it all whipping around outside, pushing around loose newspaper and tearing off car paint with sand. The rain started when I was in the shower so I didn't notice right away. If I had I might have tried to bust out earlier. As soon as the TV signal died, the sirens started going off. I don't know what for. Maybe tornadoes or gale force jets. Maybe flash floods on a patch of earth that'd been parched for 360 consecutive days. My neighbor, the kisser, packed up and left just a couple minutes after the sirens started. I admit, I panicked a little and yelled for him to stay. I still couldn't get past the cactus flower Sid had hung above my door. In fact, I think its radius increased. I couldn't even sit on the edge of the bed without feeling sick for it. Things were getting desperate.
Vampyres are lame. Like, those people who run around dressed in all black and listen to that stupid music where some German guy groans about darkness and stuff. That's why I wasn't too upset when Van went and tore all their throats out last week. Really, the town's better off without them and I'm just glad I can go to fifth period social studies without having to smell that awful incense residue coming off of Jimmy Carson, aka Raven Blackwing. Huh, freaking Jimmy Carson. Jerk stole my Hot Wheels Lamborghini when I was 8 and now I'm probably never going to get it back.
I didn't know why he wouldn't let me see her. When we got to Clarkdale, Sid got us a couple motel rooms and told me to stay put in mine. He left me alone there and he hung cactus flower on the door frame. Every time I got close to it I felt like I was gonna pass out. There was nothing more I wanted in the world than to be with the gold-haired woman, but Sid put her two doors down so I couldn't even hear her. I sat on the bed boiling. It's like steaming except the fire comes from someplace deep and bubbles away all the good in you. I wanted to punch the wall, but I just watched Wheel of Fortune instead.
Sid, the gold-haired woman and I approached a shore at the edge of Theodore Roosevelt Lake, a road winding up a nearby hill. The sun had completely set and we were the only people around for miles. Sid was the first to set foot on the ground, then I waded to the shore with my clothes held high above my head. As I dressed on the rocks, I realized that the woman hadn't left her innertube. When I asked her what was wrong, she didn't say a word. Sid put his hand on my shoulder and he said, "Help her, Eddie."