Chapter 146

On the walls were black and white framed photos of Seattle—the famous elephant of the Pink Elephant car wash, the Needle, a neon sign in the window of a bar called the Five Point where someone had blocked out the words “cook on duty” to read “cock on duty,” the Crittenden locks in Ballard, Gas Works Park, Mt. Rainier, sunrise over the Cascade mountains. Yet, Beau noted there were no mirrors on any of the walls.

He was curious to see how he looked. Was he bruised? Did he have one or two black eyes? He reached up gingerly, touching his head, which pounded, and felt layers of gauze.

How bad off was he?

And wherewas he?

He tried to put his feet to the floor, but that same floor tilted when his feet connected with it and a wave of nausea rose up from his belly, shooting bile he imagined as a sickly yellow up the back of his throat, burning.