Nora flopped heavily onto her own narrow bed, the weight of the day having sunk deep into her bones. She stared sightlessly at the boob-shaped light above her, its glow nearly as orange as the chipped paint on the walls. Her coat rustled against the rough, aggressively floral comforter, and a pang of homesickness struck her. She’d only been away from her cozy little apartment—her sanctuary—for a few hours, but under the circumstances shecouldn’t imagine when she’d be able to return again. Her fiddle-leaf fig was a goner for sure.
She blinked and the boob light was gone, replaced by Charlie’s fuzzy face.
“I’m going exploring,” he said. “Wanna come?”
“No.”
“Suit yourself, I’ll—”
“No, I mean you’re not going out there,” said Nora. “It’s too risky.”
“I’m not gonna be in a car, Nor,” said Charlie. “Gonna be a bit tricky for me to get into a car accident on foot.”
Nora groaned and rolled over, grabbing Charlie’s file from where it sat by her scratchy pillow. The cause of death hadn’t changed.
“Fine,” she relented. “Stay on the premises and, for fuck’s sake, be safe.”
Charlie gave a salute and disappeared out the door. Nora turned onto her side and found Jessica perched on the pillow, waiting for her. She jumped back in surprise, then regained her composure. “Why doesn’t anybody understand personal space?”
The bird shuffled its weight from foot to foot, staring at Nora expectantly. Nora stared back, unsure of what to make of this strange creature. Jessica seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“Okay, so we’re stuck here,” Nora said after a moment, more to herself than the parrot. “Charlie can’t be in the car because Charlie will die in the car. Because Charlie is still going to die. Why the fuck is Charlie going to die?” Her voice caught. She steadied herself. “We need a plan. A proper one.”
Jessica bobbed her head again.
“Any insights?”
Jessica hopped a step closer. “Forest house,” she squawked, the nonsense words sharp against the still air of the room.
“Didn’t think so. No. I’ve got to do this on my own. Shocker. What else is new?”
The bird gave a shake of her feathers, hopped off the bed, and went back into her cage across the room.
“Typical,” said Nora. “You really are Charlie’s pet.”
Nora tossed over onto her back and closed her eyes to think. They couldn’t get back on the road, that much was certain. But they had driven long enough and far enough that they were now somewhere roughly in the middle, or just to the left, of nowhere. Hopefully, nowhere enough that S.C.Y.T.H.E. wouldn’t find them. That Death wouldn’t find them. Maybe, somehow, by some fluke of fate, they were safe. That wasn’t a word that came easily to Nora. Even at her desk or in the soft warmth of her bed, she was never confidently safe. Accidents could happen anywhere, and often did. But her anxiety-consumed mind needed safety right now, and in her exhaustion she allowed herself to have it, just for a moment. Just long enough for her muscles to loosen, her body to sink as much as possible into the stiff motel mattress, and finally, for Nora to drift into unbidden sleep.
* * *
Nora awoke nearly two hours later to the smell of something burning. She scrambled, trying to blink away the grogginess blurring her vision to a chorus of “shit, shit” from Charlie somewhere towards the other end of the room. When her eyes finally adjusted, she found him sucking his middle and indexfingers, a still-smoking match in a freshly singed divot on the carpet at his feet.
“What the hell are you doing?” Nora swung herself out of bed and started towards him.
“No, no, close your eyes,” Charlie said.
“Charlie.” Nora crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring daggers.
“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise.” He stepped away from the window, revealing a vending machine Moon Pie with a match sticking out of it perched on the sill.
Nora looked from the little cake to her brother and back.
“For our birthday,” he said, waving his hands at the treat like a 1970s game show prize model.
“Oh,” said Nora.
He dug into the waistband of his pajama pants and plucked out a photograph.
“Here,” he said, offering it to her. “I’ve been saving it for you. For us, I guess.”
