Part 20 (1/2)
”Five cars.” Tony wanted her understanding in this.
”Five.”
”Makes and colours.”
Lucy made a face. ”General makes and colours. I don't know that much about cars, Anthony. A hatchback is a hatchback, okay? A truck is a truck.”
”That's a little too general,” Tony mulled.
”I have to guess five cars! Five! I think the odds are pretty much in your favour.”
”Me, too,” he said, not checking the grin slipping across his face.
”Then, shall we?”
”Year of make, okay?”
”ANTHONY!”
He held up both of his hands. ”Okay, no years. Go ahead, then. Work your magic. Dazzle me.”
A corner of Lucy's mouth hitched up into a dirty smile that Tony did not like in the least. He stepped in front of her, looking over her head, to ensure that she could not see a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing. Then, he thought of Gretzky. The Great One had exceptional peripheral vision. Lucy could be the same way. The prize was too great to chance it.
”One second,” Tony said, pulling her bee bottom toque down around her eyes. She did not resist. ”Okay, anytime you're ready.”
Lucy's wonderfully full lips pouted in distaste, and Tony wanted very badly to kiss them. He could tell she didn't like the blindfold. Well, he wouldn't require her to wear it for the b.l.o.w.j.o.b. Or whatever other naughtiness he could come up with for later.
”Yellow Camaro,” Lucy said almost instantly.
A split second later, a yellow Camaro drove by the motel.
Tony's mouth dropped open, his eyes staring in disbelief.
”Black hatchback,” Lucy declared, barely before Tony's mind could fathom the first correct guess.
The black hatchback zipped by.
Tony blinked in stupefied amazement.
”Black pick up, red four door sedan, and blue four door sedan,” she listed off and like comets racing across a black sky, each named car blazed by.
”That was a black sedan,” Tony cleared his throat.
”It looks black under this light. In daylight, it's blue,” Lucy told him.
”That was black as G.o.d is my witness,” Tony protested calmly.
In reply Lucy drew breath. ”Red pickup, cherry red four door something, black and chrome transport truck.”
The vehicles snapped by like noisy lasers, and with them, whatever words of protest Tony might have mustered.
”Well...” he began in an extremely calm voice. Then, he changed his mind. ”f.u.c.k!”
Lucy rolled up her toque. She was smiling.
Tony glared at her. ”How the h.e.l.l-”
Lucy kissed the air in front of him. ”Guess I win.”
”Horses.h.i.+t,” Tony spat out. ”It wasn't like I was really expecting anything.”
”Oh, no?”
”Course not. You're not the type.”
”But you believe me now?” Lucy was serious.
”That we're in Alberta? No,” Tony almost laughed.
Lucy rolled her eyes at him. ”It was easier to convince people fifty years ago. No, make that a century ago.”
That sobered him. ”What did you just say?”
”Come here.” She marched towards the main doors of the motel. Tony followed, grateful for getting out of the cold. He was beginning to wonder just how detailed this joke got. The ad was fine, and it was easy for her to get the bartender to go along. But f.u.c.k him how she managed the traffic. That was incredible. They would have to get to Vegas. Then, it suddenly occurred to him: Why was she going to all the trouble? Why the big effort about convincing him he was in Alberta, anyway? It was too d.a.m.n cold to joke about such a thing.
They stepped into the motel's lobby, the winter air shrieking in and wrestling with the warmth beyond the threshold. Directly across from them was the front desk. The elderly lady behind it reading a paperback, immaculate right down to the bread bun of hair tied on the back of her head, gave him no more than a second's appraisal.
”See there,” Lucy said in a suddenly gentle voice as if this were the final proof she needed to convince him.
Tony walked by her, thankful to escape the deep-s.p.a.ce cold outside. He could feel his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es clinking together like a pair of frozen wind chimes. He wiped his feet before closing with the front desk. He could see from here what Lucy was pointing at. It was the bronze frame and ceremonial plaque firmly establis.h.i.+ng the opening date of the motel.
In Alberta.
Tony stopped in his tracks and stared at the words for almost a minute. The lady at the desk eventually decided to take notice of him again. ”May I help you, sir?”
”No,” Tony replied very quietly with both hands resting on his hips. There was a chill coming up his lower legs. His t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es hoisted themselves up when it reached his crotch, like white mice trying to escape a rising river. He took in the front desk, and his mind blossomed in shock.
Pictures of the Rockies.
A wondrous wilderness shot of Banff National Park.
Listings of possible trips and their destination prices: Wintergreen; Lake Louise; Rabbit Hill.
A pile of community newspapers.
The day's copy of the Calgary Herald.
A picture of a group of smiling people standing in front of a castle-like structure called Mewata Armouries; a dark green tank just to the group's right.