19 Archie Bunker It was such an intense relief when I finally saw a road
sign with the name Balmorhea. It was the interchange
with highway 17. It was
a short euphoria, because my condition was bad and I did not yet have a room
for the night. When I finally
stood in front of a motel, it was already 3:30pm15:30 but it seemed not too crowded. With leaden feet,
I entered the motel. For a moment I tried to imagine what a person
would think if he or she would see me entering the reception. After 4,5 hour cycling I was soaked to the
bone with mud all over me, hypothermic , shivering and walking like a duck because
of my feet, feeling like two lumps of ice. Water
was dripping from all places of my body. This time the receptionist was a middle-aged woman
around 30, old-fashioned dressed, formless with straight long hair and no makeup.
Her first reaction
was astonishment, her second, overwhelming friendly and concerned. She came from her desk towards me to find out
that the water was dripping from my whole body down on her floor. “What happened to you”, she asked. “This is the result of five hours cycling in
the rain at freezing point. I desperately
need a room and a warm shower.” “You will get
one, don’t worry, but first I will get you some towels to dry your face and you
will get a cup of hot chocolate.” She took a few towels from behind her and walked
up to me. When she saw
that my hands were still too cold to accept the towel, she spontaneously but
gently started rubbing my face with the towel. Again, I had to
add an awkward but endearing and valuable experience to my life story. “I can tell you
honestly, I have seen a lot of strange types entering my door over the years,
but you’re taking the cake,” she told me almost lovingly, but I think more in a
mother, son kind of way? “Maybe it is best when I first take a shower because
everything is wet and I do not have any feeling in my fingers and feet.” “I will
let you go if you promise you will come back for the hot chocolate and tell me the
whole story, in front of the fireplace.” She pointed at
a large fireplace, which was not yet burning, with five big comfortable chairs in
front of it. This meeting
area had an open entrance to the reception, but was still a separated room. From
the reception you could oversee the whole room and it invited you to go inside.
“I definitely
will but I first have to do a few things and maybe take a short nap. Is around
eight a good time?” In my motel room,
I carefully undressed myself and went for a shower, but the reaction of my cold
body to the warm water was an intense itching or tingling feeling. The word unbearable is a little overdone,
but it was terribly irritating. After a while,
the irritating feeling faded. When the warm water became a pleasurable an
intense feeling of tiredness came with it. Still, I had to go out to a store to buy some
food. I looked outside
and I saw it was still raining cats and dogs. It was better
to wait for a while. I took a short nap on my bed until 5:30pm17:30 and
when I glanced outside I saw that it was snowing. It was a good moment to go to the store. I bought bread, chips, peanuts, sugarloaf, hamburger
bread and hotdogs. This little town
with a population of around six hundred had two shops, one bar and some empty
stores, nothing else. On my way back to the motel, it was still snowing.
At 6:00pm6:00,
I watched the weather forecast and the weatherman ‘promised’ me rain for tomorrow,
the whole day! Tomorrow it would be only 31mi50km cycling to Kent but it was
all the way up to an elevation of 4300ft1311m. This meant
it would get colder; more wind so it wouldn’t be a nice tourist trip tomorrow. What I noticed, while I was cycling in the rain
today, was that every mile there was a sign that told me how far it was until the
border between Texas and New Mexico. Around eight, I went to the reception for the
promised hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. When I opened the door of the reception it looked
deserted, but the lady from the reception rose up behind her comfortable armchair,
that was nicely placed in front of the fireplace, with a glass of wine in her hand.
She recognized me, although I must have looked
completely different without the mud and dirt and wearing normal clothes. “I was just thinking about you, imagining
you probably fell asleep on your bed. Nice that you’re here.” I was not the
only person that had undergone a metamorphosis because her old-fashioned look had
changed because she now wore a more modern outfit, her hair was sparkling instead
of dull and she’d put make-up on her face. “Do you
first want a hot-chocolate,” she asked. “Let me first introduce myself, I’m Peter, Peter
Roeleveld.” “My
name is Martha,” she answered. “Can I order a glass of wine instead of a hot-chocolate?”
I asked “Please take a seat in front of the fireplace
and I will get you a glass of wine and it’s on the house!” When I sat down in front of the fireplace, I
saw it was snowing outside and Martha was pouring a glass of wine for me. The whole
situation gave me a warm feeling. Probably because my body was still processing
this exhausting day I became overwhelmed with emotions, thinking about the contrast
of my cycling day and this perfect setting. She probably noticed something and asked me
about it. I told her that sometimes the contrast between
the hardest day of a lifetime and a warm spot like this was too big to handle. “At such
moments, you get all kinds of flashbacks from my dearest at home and here in America.
Tiredness makes me even more susceptible for
emotions.” “Wow” she said and placed herself in the other
chair. We toasted
and I took my first sip. “I’m a little
confused Martha, when I see you sitting here it looks more like you’re at home than
you’re at work. Compared
with this afternoon you suddenly change from, sorry to say, an old fashioned to
a beautiful modern style, do you understand I’m confused?” “Thanks for the
compliment and yes, I work here and live here. My husband bought
this motel ten years ago and we were married a year before. I was eighteen
and he was thirty. The first years of our marriage and of the motel
were a success. Five years
ago, my husband died, but our love had died a few years earlier. It sounds
cruel but I was not very sad for him. The last years
he became mean and insensible. Later I understood
that the reason for this was a small tumor in his brain which changed his character
completely. He probably was
in a lot of pain, but he was stupid and did not want to go to the doctor. I probably
was angry at him for many different reasons. After he died,
I just went on with this motel because in the last few years I was already the one
running the motel. My private spot
is on the second floor and I like my life like this. A few people like my sister and my sister in law
help me run this hotel so every week I have two days to myself. Friday and
Sunday are my days off. Getting back to
your compliment, I do understand the dress I wear during the day is not flattering
and that is precisely the intention. I am tired of
male travelers, far from home, trying to seduce me. You can say it’s something like a discouragement
agent. I wear this
modern outfit mostly after work if I have a need to. The first month
after my husband died, I kept the fireplace on during the evenings but it
extended my work hours too much. People, mostly men stayed the whole evening in
front of the fireplace ordering drinks and asking for attention, sometimes in a
demanding way. Some men are
very tactless, even harassing. Nowadays, in the evening, most of the time, I
put the fire out and go upstairs. I only come down when somebody asks for my attention
by pressing the bell at the reception. It sounds unfriendly, but I already work from
seven in the morning until eight at night and that is enough for me. Most people
understand. “But enough
about me, what happened with you today, when you came-in you looked like a drowned
cat.” I started
to tell her about my cycling trip of today and from the last two months, about
my country, my family and the nice people I’d met. Around nine the
doorbell disturbed our conversation. The outside
door opened and an older couple came in for some information. Martha had to get
up to help them. The couple saw the fireplace and me sitting
with a glass of wine, they looked at each other and decided to also take a drink
at the fireplace. They ordered
a glass of wine and placed themselves in the two chairs next to me and the
woman started to talk. She did not stop for the next thirty minutes. Her husband looked at us and his expression was
something like, sorry but you only have to deal with her for a short time but I
am condemned for a lifetime. Stories about their children, their house, their
family, his work and their holidays and even their marriage passed our awareness
but did not enter it. The woman just
started to tell us all about their neighbors at home when the outside door opened
again and a lady came in. Martha probably
knew the lady because she welcomed her by mentioning her name and telling her what
a nice surprise it was she’d chosen her motel on her journey to El Paso. While Martha
and the lady were in a friendly conversation I was racking my brain to find a way
to get this tiresome woman and her regrettable husband back to their motel room.
Because I
desperately needed something I suddenly remembered from her endless dull story
that she loved to watch the TV series “All in the family” with Archie Bunker and
his wife Edith and Meatball. I knew from
last week’s experience that every evening there are a few episodes of this series
on one of the channels. I told the lady I would drink my last sip of wine and
then I would go to bed to watch a few episodes of “All in the family” which would
start in about ten minutes. What I hoped happened, the woman told me
that it was a good idea and that they would go to their room to watch it too. Nevertheless they still weren’t ready to leave
so I had to take the first step. I rose from my
chair and went to Martha asking for the restroom. I whispered
that she should call me when the couple had left for their room. She understood
and winked conspiringly. Five minutes later, she was calling my name and
when I got back to the fireplace, the couple was gone and Martha and the new arrival
were already sipping from their glasses of wine. It was a very nice evening and around 10:30pm22:30,
the fatigue overpowered me so I left the two ladies to go to bed. Dear Note I don’t want to act piteously, just want to tell you it
was the hardest day of my life. There were moments today, that I was cold to the
bone, my goal looked endlessly far away and I felt alone in the world. It is
exactly 11:00pm23:00, I just
slided the bed sheet and a blanket over me and I felt
the tiredness coming back. It feels so good! I’m sure that when I put you on
the nightstand I will be dreaming in seconds. Thanks
for your patience, have a nice night, This night, this
dirty minded guy dreamed about Martha laying in front of the fireplace on a beautiful
soft, warm long-pile carpet, it was very romantic. Sorry, I do
not know which part of my brain was making those dreams and I didn’t know how I
could place an adult-filter in my brain. |