Yesterday a man came to the motel in the end of the street and checked in without a lot of fuss. No one has seen him before around here. Some say he’s a business guy, others a sales man only. It felt weird to me but I didn’t want to wonder so I went down there to ask.
As I entered the motel an old man asked what would I want there. I started explaining and asked him if I could see the man that had checked in recently. The man in 02. He said the man was weird and I would want to leave it there with the matter. I didn’t get it at first but I was afraid to ask more, the old man seemed upset.
The next day I got back to the motel but no one was in the administration, so I decided to sneak in. I searched for the room and knocked. And knocked again. And again. No response. It was getting late so I went away. Not for long.
The day before I visited the motel again and went straight up to the 02 room. The door was open. I entered the premises and wander around. Lots of clothes, lots of shoes, really big shoes, really long clothes… make up, fake hair, fake eyelashes, lipstick… I was amazed.
I stepped out the room to find the man living there lying on the floor, bleeding. I knew that man. Next to him was the old man who runs the motel. It seemed like a fight. The old man definitely had hit the man in the 02 and he was about to do it again. STOP!, I yelled. He is defenseless, I add screaming. What was he doing? Why are you hitting him?, I said. He is weird, the old man said. He’s not from here and I want him out. Out of here, he continued.
I grabbed the man and raised him up. I put him in the bed of the 02. I gathered his clothes. I got him out of there.
Thank you, sir. That’s what he said to me.
Don’t worry about it. Was what I responded.
The man in the 02, wasn’t a man after all. But he was when I first met him. He was to me when I used to call him Dad.