It was a cold night. Dark and moonless and lonely. I was standing on a deserted street under a barely lit street lamp. It was only ten thirty in the night. But the darkness had filled every inch of space as if it had been a night from long long ago.
I took out a cigarette from the pocket of my coat and placed it between my lips. It had a fruity taste. I inhaled and felt a tangy tobacco breath going inside me, its taste filling my mouth, its flavor making my tongue wet.
Longing for the smoke, I took out the lighter and burned the tip of the cigarette. The tip burned like hot red amber in the blackness of the night. Its warmth reminding me of something. I had to meet her.
I remembered her warm breath on my neck and her velvety voice into my ears -giggling and whispering –Room 21, Aloha Inn, Route 6, the night of the Friday the thirteenth. You would know once you see it, she had said.
Would I? I had doubted her words, considered them a play, a joke that she was playing with me, had played with others. But then she had looked into my eyes deeper and farther, in a way like no woman had ever looked before, and I had felt my breath slowing, my heartbeat stopping and the time between us thickening into a glassy fluid, barely moving, trapping the moment between us, making her words linger around me like the fragrance of a perfume long after the person wearing it had gone.
I am not far, I told myself. I walked the last two blocks and found myself in a street bathing in neon lights. The glimmering pearls of light blinded me for a moment, making me squint, making me walk with my head down. I was there.
After a while, my eyes adjusted to the dazzling show of lights. I looked up and saw the motel name -Aloha Inn. The neon signout front blinked “Aloha” in Orange, then “inn” in Pink, and the hula girl’s skirt in green, over and over and over, like a recurring dream, that you can’t seem to put out of your head.
I entered the motel, checked in, and entered the small but comfortable room. I was early.
The room was lit by the lights from the outsides, flooding the room with the glow of neon, in an alternating sequence of orange and pink and green. A cool wind was rustling through the blinds, making it ruffle. I stepped towards the half opened window.
Just as I stretched out to close the blinds, I heard a sound of the footsteps – her footstep, approaching the door. I turned back in anticipation. After a moment or two, the sound stopped, right in front of Room 21.
I felt her body behind the door, her breath long and deep from the climb, her body crisp and shivering from the cold. For the first time in the night, I was scared, I was sweating, my heart thumping my chest, filling the room with my nervousness.
And then she opened the door, and there was she, draped in a white dress, shining like the moon against the dark sky, the woman whom I desired more than anything at this moment, more than anything in my entire life.
reference of Aloha Inn taken from Boston Legal S01E06