Chapter 3

Room 115

Mitchell rolled into Cliffside on a Sunday, only a week before the incident that would leave three electricians lying in pools of their own blood.

On his head sat a cowboy-style hard hat. Centered on it was a big blue sticker that read Huntington Electric Est. 1909 in white letters.

An orange pair of dollar store sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose.

He'd shaved again, leaving only his mustache and the little patch of blond hair beneath his lower lip.

Other than the cowboy hard hat and the new look on his face, Mitchell was sporting only a stained pair of boxer shorts printed with a grinning cartoon duck.

A cheap, nasty smelling cigarette dangled dangerously close to falling out of Mitchell's mouth as he sang at the top of his lungs.

The song was "God Must Have Spent a Little More Time on You" by N'Sync.

Mitchell laid the cowboy hard hat on the passenger seat, which was littered with twenty-ounce plastic drink bottles and empty fast-food bags.

His long blond hair fell into his face in tiny little braids.

He was dating a skinny little Black woman now. Her name was Thelma.

She had insisted that Mitchell let her do his hair before he left.

Mitchell left the door open on the flatbed with N'Sync blasting as he walked toward the hotel office.

Now they were singing "Drive Myself Crazy."

Mitchell hummed the tune as he retrieved his billfold from his blue jeans that were lying in the passenger seat.

Mitchell stepped into the hotel office, still singing. Now the song was at his favorite part.

"Drive myself... drive myself... crazy, crazy..."

The man working behind the desk saw Mitchell, and his own problems temporarily went away. He didn't think about the fact that Mitchell was wearing only boxer shorts.

He knew Mitchell.

"Damn Mitchell Carrington! Where have you been?"

 Mitchell boomed laughter It sounded like low, rumbling thunder in the tiny motel office.

"Oh... here, there, everywhere."

"Well how long are you going to be here this time?"

"Don't know. Depends on how hard I feel like working," Mitchell said in the voice of Slow Poke Rodriguez.

Both laughed.

Mitchell did the same things that he always did to settle himself in a hotel room. He carried his clothes in on hangers and hung them on the rack in the corner. He carried a bag in that had his razor, shampoo, and that sort of stuff. He re-arranged the hotel room furniture to how he wanted it.

Mitchell got his cooler from the truck and walked down to the ice machine and filled it up. Mitchell took the cooler back to his room. He turned the AC on full blast then got back in his self-decorated truck and went into the town of Cliffside to buy some Coronas to put in his cooler, and to look for someone.

Curt Dill on Mitchell Carrington After the Incident at the River Weave Plant:

When we were in Alabama, all of us, the entire crew, stayed at the Budget Inn in Opelika. Mitchell brought Treetrunk down for a week or two. I was rooming with Shane. We had the room beside Mitchell and Treetrunk. It was about eleven o'clock. Shane was watching TV, and I was almost asleep, when we heard a loud thump through the wall. I mean it was fucking louder than hell. Shane and I looked at each other.

Shane asked, "What the hell was that?"

I said I didn't know, but I was sure that we would find out the next day.

In the morning, around nine o'clock break, Mitchell walked up to us. "Did you hear us last night, man."

Shane said, "No."

Mitchell said, "I figured that Treetrunk would have kept you awake last night screaming."

I said, "No why, were you fighting?"

Mitchell chuckled and opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. He made loud licking sounds. Then Mitchell said, "No, I was eating that thing. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, and I got on my knees between her legs. I had to lift her belly up outta the way before I could start. Then about halfway through, her belly fell on the back of my head. I could barely breathe. I started thrashing around. Just when I thought that I was going to suffocate under all that wonderful woman, she fell backward off the bed and onto the floor."

I looked at Shane and said, "Dammmn."

Shane said, "Oh yeah, I think we did hear that."

We were both fighting laughter.