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I felt relieved when I heard him unlock the door and when he cracked open his door, I noticed it had a security chain across it.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a step back so as not to make him feel anxious. I smiled. “Logan was due to see his son, Colby, today, but he didn’t turn up. We’re obviously concerned about this and I took the liberty of driving out to the condo where he and Poppy lived, but she told me they’d split up some time ago. The reason why I’m here is because an incident last month has given us cause for concern for his welfare.”
Jim closed his door, took the chain off, and opened it again. “Better come inside,” he told me and wandered back along his hallway. Following him to his sitting room, he offered me a seat and I sat, mainly because he was a small man of about five four and I was over six foot, the last thing I wanted him to feel was intimidated by this tall strange hairy biker he’d let into his home.
“He’s a mess,” Jim told me. “He was here for four days, and I thought at first he was binge drinking because of the breakup. I figured a few days and he’d get it out of his system and move on. What happened, however, was he became insulting when I told him enough was enough, and I wanted him to clean up his act.”
“Poppy said he lost his job?” I interjected.
“That he did, refused my advice to stay home and sober up, went to work drunk, and lost his temper with a couple of students who didn’t hand in their assignments. Department tried to offer him a leave of absence on personal grounds, but he got obnoxious and they ended up escorting him off the premises.
“Damn.” My heart was racing with concern because I knew if anything were to happen to him Billie and Colby would be devastated. “Do you know where he’s staying?”
“Yeah he’s staying in some cheap motel.”
“Can you tell me which one?”
After obtaining the name of the place where he’d gone, I promised Jim I’d let him know Logan was okay. I headed a mile up the road to the motel he had told me about.
Approaching the desk, I asked for information about Logan, but the male front desk guy wouldn’t give anything away.
“Okay, I understand, but I know that he’s here because his car is out there in your parking lot, so if I wait here can you go and ask him to see me, please? This is a matter of life and death, or I wouldn’t be here,” I said, dramatically.
Eventually he called Logan’s room and there was no reply.
I tried to tamp my frustration. “Look, I believe this man is in a vulnerable state, his mental health can’t be good. Without going into his personal circumstances, I’m afraid for him.”
“Sorry, motel policy states…”
“I don’t care what your rules are, I understand clients have the right to privacy, but you also have a duty to care for your guests. If you don’t physically check on him after what I’ve told you,” I made a big deal of checking out his name badge. “Spencer Dixon, I will be sure to take legal action against the motel and a separate law suit against you for obstruction and negligence if anything were to happen to him after my warning.”
Immediately Spencer grabbed the keys and led me five doors down from the main entrance. After knocking twice on the door, he took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Pushing past him I entered the small stuffy room which reeked of alcohol and sweat. The heating was on full and the room was stifling.
Logan’s skin looked gray as he lay on the floor on his back, one leg up on the single queen bed, his arms spread wide, his head fortunately rolled over to one side.
“Fuck,” I said rushing to kneel by his side, my fingers on one hand over his wrist as the ones on my other searched for a pulse in his throat. “Call 911,” I ordered, my heart pounding so hard I wasn’t sure whether the pulse I felt in my fingers was Logan’s or mine.
A groan left his throat when I flicked his leg off the bed and onto the floor and began to roll him onto his side, and when I heard this I decided to try for a better response by throwing him into the shower. Picking him up with the help of the front desk clerk, I tossed him over my shoulder before making my way into the small bathroom.
Lying him into the tub fully dressed, I turned on the shower faucet and spun the dial to cold. I’ll admit I was worried when after a minute he had remained unresponsive, then he suddenly took a deep breath and began to cough up his guts.
“Logan,” I shouted, slapping his face and rubbing his chest with my fist through his wet T-shirt. When he told me to “Get the fuck off me,” I knew he was going to be all right. Minutes later the responders arrived and dragged him out of the shower. After speaking to him for a few minutes, the paramedic decided an admission was necessary and after attaching an intravenous line and a large bag of fluids they transported him to the nearest ER.
After throwing the last few hundred dollars in my wallet at the front desk attendant, I asked him to pack up Logan’s shit and told him if he took care of it until tomorrow, I’d pay him more when I collected it. Then I got back on my bike and headed to the emergency room for an update on Logan.
It was almost 10:30 p.m. by the time I arrived there and before I went inside, I sent off a text to Billie.
Me: Found Logan, he’s fine. I’ll be home shortly.
Billie: Thank God. Are you sure he’s okay?”
Me: Yes, home soon. X
There was no way I could get into it with Billie over the phone and I wanted to speak to Logan. Actually, I wanted to beat the shit out of him for being so selfish and putting his ex-wife and son through all this anguish, but I knew it wouldn’t have solved anything.
