Knight swiped the key as Malcolm said, “Malloy?”
“I’was th’ only name I could think of on such notice,” Knight said.
“What’s it say on your credit card?”
“Jack Malloy.”
“Do I want to know how you got that?”
“Ask his family.”
Mal decided not to ask as he entered the room with Knight. Knight turned on the light and the first room was bathed in a gentle light. There was a couch, a TV, and a small kitchenette. Mal nodded in approval, walking a little further into the room. “This is nice,” he said, and headed into the bedroom. Knight heard him laugh.
Knight headed into the bedroom and saw a wine chilling on the nightstand, a box of chocolates on the bed. The bedroom had a fireplace, like theirs at home, and the bed was a simple king-sized bed, not a waterbed. Knight slid open the doors in front of the fireplace and the chill autumn air swept through.
There was a gentle knock on the door, while Malcolm studied the bottle of wine. “That must be our tinderbox.”
Knight went over to the door and opened it. A young man carrying a cord of wood stood there. “Hello,” he said.
Knight stepped aside and let the young man into the room. He carried the wood into the bedroom, and Knight heard him say hello to Malcolm. Knight watched him set up the fire, using a small brick of oil and tinder to start it. “Enjoy your stay, gentlemen,” he said with a smile and left them there.
“I was gonna head back t’ the Big E f’r tonight, but maybe we c’n stay here.” Knight flopped down on the bed.
Malcolm followed suit saying, “Well, we need to christen the bed…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, after libations, Knight climbed back into bed and Malcolm wrapped himself around Knight. “Cold.”
“Fire burned out.”
“Do we need to call the tinderbox?”
“I c’n start it.”
“That means you have to get up.”
Knight chuckled, “Well, yeah.”
Mal snuggled deeper into him, burying himself under the covers. “Call the tinderbox.”
“Jesus, Mal, I c’n do it myself.”
“It’s what we pay them for.”
“I’ll still need ta get up t’ answer th’ door.”
Mal sighed disgustedly. “Well, I guess it’s time to get up anyway.”
“Ah, wake up, maybe. Get up..?” Knight reached down between Mal’s legs. “Ya already are.”
~~~~~~~~~~
After lovemaking and a luxurious shower, Knight noticed that Mal was in a much more chipper mood. “Any place to eat in this yahoo town?” Mal asked, coming out of the bedroom, buttoning his custom-tailored shirt. “And please don’t tell me IHOP.”
“No, even better.” Knight grinned, “We’re gonna have breakfast at the Big E.”
“Can’t wait,” Mal moaned.
Knight and Mal rode back onto the highway heading east. Knight parked among other bikes and paid for the admission to the place.
There were many people this early on a Saturday morning. They arrived between two building, advertising as Maine and Massachusetts. Maine was selling a lumberjack special of a stack of pancakes, eggs, bacon, ham, sausage, hash browns, and coffee. Mal looked up at that and said, “I want that.”
“You sure? It’s a lot.”
Mal just gave him a look. Knight chuckled and bought him one, staying with eggs in a nest for himself. Knight stopped at every booth, and Mal ate something from each one. Sometimes they shared. Mal, though, packed it away, and Knight watched, amused. At noontime the alcohol became available, and they went around to each of the booths again, this time sampling different micro-brews and other beers.
By the middle of the afternoon, Knight was feeling tipsy, though Mal wasn’t. Knight dragged Mal to the farm animals on display. “Hey, watch this,” Knight said, walking up to a calf in a stall. Knight scratched the calf on its forehead, intensely concentrating on the movement, and Mal watched, his face deadpan. Then Knight put his hand out in front of the cow’s nose, and the cow licked his hand. Knight laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. Mal looked droll. “You’re going to smell like cow if you keep that up,” Mal said, wrinkling his nose.
“Let’s go see the pigs!”
Mal looked heavenward, following his lover to the pig area. “Should we buy one?”
“No, we shouldn’t.”
“They’ll slaughter it for us.”
Mal shook his head firmly. “I’d rather hunt down my own meat.”
Knight looked up at Mal, a twinkle in his eye. “Ya would, wouldn’t ya?”
Said a man nearby, “You’ll need a hunting license.”
“Not for the kind of hunting I’m thinking of doing,” Mal said, turning and walking away. Knight followed, like caught prey.