Inside Outt

the bright lights of the room, she looked at herself in the mirror. She still had flecks of brain in her hair. She closed her eyes and grimaced.
    “I’m going to take a shower,” she said.
    “Good idea.”
    She pinched two spots on her shirt, pulled it away from her body, and looked at the stains. “And can you… is there a gift shop, or something? Can you get me something to wear?”
    “No problem.”
    She gave him a faint smile. “Not another halter, okay?”
    He returned the smile and nodded. “I’m going to grab something to eat, too. Do you…”
    “No. I don’t want to eat.”
    “No problem. I’ll bring something anyway, okay? You might change your mind later.”
    She looked down at herself. “That’s hard to imagine.”
    “I know. But just in case.”
    The restaurant was closed, but the bar was open, and the bartender told him they could put together a plate of this and that.
“Dos,”
Ben said.
“Estoy muerto de hambre.”
Make it two. I’m starving.
    While the bar put together the food, he went to the gift shop next to reception. They didn’t have much in the way of clothes—mostly bathing suits and surfing regalia—but he found a blue sundress he thought would do the trick. They could worry about getting her something else tomorrow. He bought the dress, along with a short-sleeved button-down shirt for himself.
    He picked up the food from the bar along with two bottles of Imperial beer and went back to the room. From the sound of it, Paula was still in the shower. He sat on the floor with his back against the bed and wolfed down an enormous plate of chicken, rice, and beans, all covered with a tangy sauce he’d never tasted before, and polished it off with a beer. It was delicious.
    When he finished, she was still in the shower. He knocked on the door and said, “Paula? You all right?”
    “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m… I’ll be out in a minute.”
    “I got you something to wear.”
    “Just leave it out there. There’s a hotel robe.”
    “Okay.”
    A few minutes later, she came out in a white terry cloth robe. Her hair was wet and her face looked raw. Ben understood instantly. She’d been in there scrubbing under the hottest water she could stand.
    “You all right?” he asked again.
    She shook her head. “I’m never going to get that smell off me. Blood, and… it was brain, wasn’t it?”
    “It’s just in your head now. It’s not on you anymore. And it’ll fade, I promise.”
    She nodded and stood there uncertainly. “Come on, sit down,” he said. “See if you can eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”
    She sat next to him, holding the bathrobe close as she did, and he pulled the plastic wrap off the remaining plate of food. She took a hesitant bite, then another. “Damn,” she said. “That’s pretty good.”
    She started digging in and he popped the cap off one of the Imperials. He was glad she was eating. They hadn’t had anything in over fourteen hours, and he knew from experience that no matter what was going on in your mind, you had to tend to your body.
    “Okay if I put your contaminated clothes in a laundry bag?” he said. “We’re going to need to get rid of them.”
    “Please. I don’t want to look at them again. I’d burn them if I could.”
    He found a plastic laundry bag in a drawer and went into the bathroom. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor. He picked them up and dropped them in the bag. Nothing had come off on the floor. The blood was dry. He dropped the bag in front of the room door so they couldn’t forget it when they left and sat down next to her again. She’d eaten about half the food and finished the beer.
    “I can’t eat any more,” she said. “Thank you. That was good.”
    “No problem.”
    “Why are you being so nice to me now?”
    “Am I?”
    “Yeah. Usually you’re an asshole.”
    “That’s just a cover. Underneath, I’m really a very caring person.”
    She laughed. “Seriously.”
    He shook his head. “That’s a hard thing, what happened to you today.”
    “But you’re used to it.”
    He shrugged. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean you are. Or that you should be.”
    “So you’re going to stop being nice tomorrow?”
    “You won’t be over it tomorrow.”
    “When will I?”
    “I don’t know. It’s different for different people.”
    “How was it for you?”
    He paused, remembering. “At the time?”
    “Yes.”
    “It was so chaotic, I didn’t even have time to think. But…