October, 2016

With a roar of the engine and a spattering of dark smoke spewing from its exhaust, a forest green 1974 Jeep Chief pulled off the Redwood Highway shortly after four in the morning and into the parking lot of the Travelodge Motel in Eureka, California. The boxy, dirt-covered beast lurched into a parking spot near the front, the engine idling loudly as the driver climbed out. He stretched, his joints popping in protest after the long drive. With a put-upon scowl that seemed permanently etched onto his face, he surveyed the scene, his gaze lingering on the dingy motel and the flickering neon sign.

The driver was young, late-twenties, with blue-tinted sunglasses resting on a head of overgrown and unruly dark brown hair. A prominent forehead shadowed haunting green eyes that rarely looked up and a two-week-old beard covered his jaw. He wore an olive-green Army surplus jacket that hung loosely on his medium frame, the faded fabric hinting at countless adventures. Underneath, a black T-shirt clung to his lean torso. Faded jeans and rugged brown hiking boots completed the ensemble, the boots bearing the scars of countless miles trekked across North America.

Those boots crunched on the cracked asphalt as he crossed the parking lot and pushed through the motel's glass doors. The lobby was small and stuffy, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cleaning solution. Behind the front desk, a glum-looking older woman with a bouffant hairdo and a bored expression manned the front desk, her eyes glued to a tattered paperback novel. She took his name, Oliver Hauk, and he made sure to tell her that he went by Ollie, not Oliver. She responded with a shrug, so he gave her his credit card, a Visa bank card with an available balance of roughly five hundred and fifty-seven dollars. Nine minutes later, he walked into his darkened room and sniffed the stale air with a grimace.

He dropped his luggage on the floor and collapsed onto the bed, his body sinking into the mattress with a groan. He didn’t even care if the sheets smelled faintly of old perfume. After seventeen hours on the road all he cared about was getting a few moments of sleep.

“Meow?”

A shrill voice called out from the stack of luggage on the floor. Ollie groaned in response.

“Ummmm, meow!” the voice said, more insistent this time.

Ollie crawled across the bed, throwing himself into the hard pillows that had looked much more inviting from a distance.

“It’s all clear,” he mumbled into the pillow.

A piece of his luggage shifted back and forth underneath a mesh covering.

“It’s twisted! I can’t reach it!”

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“Then take a nap.”

“A nap?” The voice was high-pitched, whiny, with a hint of an English accent. “I’ve been sleeping for ten hours, ya boffer! Let me out!”

Ollie sighed heavily, but he didn’t move right away.

“I’ll scream all night if I have to!”

The threat was clear, delivered with the shrillness of a banshee. Another sigh, and Ollie sat up. He leaned over to his luggage and unzipped the plastic cover around a large cat carrier. As soon as he removed the cover a small, wiry, yellow hand reached through the gate and opened it. The door sprung open and a thirteen-inch-tall pygmy goblin leapt out as if being chased. A football-shaped head rested on a sinewy body that seemed almost too small to support it. Two pointed ears and a hook nose sprouted out, forming a devilish triangle bracketed by tufts of white hair.

“Hate that thing.” He shook his head and shoulders like a cat. “Hate it. Hate it. Hate it!”

Ollie laid back down. “Tough. It’s either that or I throw you in a backpack.”

“Says you,” the yellow-skinned pygmy snarled. He straightened his slightly feminine red coat, taken from an American Girl doll. “Not right leaving me trapped in that thing like an animal. Or driving all night without even a snack break. I have to eat, ya know! My tummy gets all knotted up and rumbly every time we drive past a burger joint that you’re too cheap to stop at. Unless you get hungry, then we’re driving hog wild over hills and mountains to get you fed! I think we all know who really matters here.”

Ollie covered his face with one of the pillows. “Shut up and let me sleep.”

The goblin frowned. “Shut up, Grika,” he mimicked. “Go hide in the woods, Grika. Go spy on those beasties, Grika. Go do all the hard, dangerous stuff, while I sit back and drink a beer because I’m human and you’re only a foot tall. Fine.” He stomped off toward the bathroom on tiny little pattering feet. “I’ll go make my usual bed out of towels. Because that’s all I’m worth, apparently. Dirty motel towels and your leftover snacks. It’s like heaven on earth for old Grika! Heaven on earth...”

He closed the bathroom door behind him, still chattering on the other side.

“Thank God,” Ollie mumbled into the pillow. The pygmy’s incessant rattling faded away as sleep took him, bringing with it dreams of solitude, and money.

And food.

His nap only lasted a couple hours before a familiar voice intruded on his reverie.

Get your lazy butt out of bed.

He woke up to see streaks of sunlight sneaking in through the curtains. He laid there for a while and stared at the ceiling, lamenting the fact that putting an entire continent between them wasn’t enough to keep his dad’s voice out of his dreams. He debated going back to sleep. He needed it, especially sleep that came without any of the horrifying nightmares that often plagued him, but if he closed his eyes again, he’d be out until the afternoon. And then he’d be up all night with Grika.

That proved to be ample motivation. He turned on the TV, careful to keep it muted, and walked through the settings for the motel offerings. This place had no free Wi-Fi, but it had a TV with parent settings. He turned it off, then walked over to the bathroom and opened the door. As promised, Grika lay stretched out like an Ottoman emperor on a pallet of bunched-up towels. The pygmy’s eyes opened as slits, and he frowned at the intrusion.

“I’m heading out. Stay here.”

Grika made a face. “I have a choice?” Ollie stared back at him. “Fine.” Grika leaned back and crossed his arms. “I’ll stay here and watch expensive pay-per-view movies. Have fun paying that bill!” He laughed hysterically.

Ollie stopped before closing the door. “I put the child lock on the TV. Have fun figuring out the password.” He closed the door behind him and smiled contentedly as a stream of obscenities emanated from the bathroom.