I seemed to be untouched; at least the creature who had slept next to me had had the decency not to deposit his odor on me, or in me, as I slept. My feet and legs ached, the meat of my calves felt squishy as I pinched it. The pinch didn’t hurt, I couldn’t even feel it, but the ache remained. Fear sank into my bowels. My legs had been frozen and thawed. I swung them out of bed and tried to stand up. Fire flushed through me, but I stood.

I found my clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser next to his briefcase. He hadn’t deserted me. He would return. The neon from the motel sign cast pink through the window. The evening felt early.

By the time I finished showering, I was light-headed and weak-­kneed. I came dripping from the bathroom and with blackening vision made my way to the bed. Once down, with deep breaths, my sight cleared and I saw the weasel of a man standing over me, holding a paper bag of foul-­smelling food.

“Here,” he said. “Better eat something.”

I took the bag from him, but had no stomach for what it contained. I picked at it while he watched me; I listened to him talk as he sat on the edge of the bed. I hoped to discern who he was, what he wanted, where we were, and where he was going.

“I drive nights. That’s the best time. I usually stop where I’m going and get a couple hours of early morning sleep, freshen up a bit and I’m ready for my sales calls. I guess you’re lucky I drive nights, other­wise you might still be out there. Storm hit pretty bad up there, too. You’d still be standing there, up to your nose in snow.”

My gratitude was less than overwhelming.

“Anyway, I’m glad to see you awake and eating. I was afraid for a while I was going to have to call an ambulance. I mean, you sure sleep soundly, but then I’ve never seen anyone frozen like that before.” His smile was fleeting, nervous.

I tired of the food and dropped it to the floor.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m healing.”

“Well, listen, I’ve got to get back on the road.” He checked his watch. “It’s after five. I hate to leave you here, but it’s either that or take you with me, at least as far as a hospital, but I can’t be responsible for your bills.”

“I don’t need a hospital. Where are you going?”

“Texas.”

“Driving through New Mexico?”

“Hope to make it the whole way through to­night.”

I pulled myself out of bed and staggered toward the dresser.

“Hey, wait.”

“I’m going with you, if you don’t mind.”