I hadn’t imagined the lit sign out front. But after three more minutes went by, I wondered if I was the only person on the premises. Why the unlocked office, though?

Just then, a figure raced by the pool. He was dressed only in sneakers and cutoffs. I got a glimpse of red hair plastered to a skull, and a wan toned body. He disappeared around a far corner.

I thought of phoning the motel, in hope somebody on the property would pick up. But I didn’t know the name. Thought of GPS, but finally I was tired of high-tech solutions. There was a living person on the grounds, and I would go find him and ask if this place was open or not.

This time I left my jacket on the counter, and went out into the downpour through the back door.

I splashed through the water accumulating on the brickwork tile around the pool. A wicked burst of lightning lit the darkness overhead, and as I reached the place I’d last seen the man in cutoffs, the thunder followed. A great solemn, awesome Ka-boom. I ducked involuntarily, but pressed on, now truly drenched.

Around the corner, I found an open door into a utility room of some sort. A light was on, and I thought I saw movement. I knew better than to sneak up on anybody, but I was almost blinded by the rain standing out here and --

“Whoa!” a voice said behind me, and I about jumped out of my skin. “What’re you doing out here, bro?”

I pivoted around. And there stood cutoffs man, the water pouring in endless rivulets off his bare torso and legs. He was all sinew and bone, not a hint of fat on him. His navel was like a dime, pressed into his flesh. His red hair was a skullcap. Despite the deluge, he offered a feral sort of grin, like I was playing a practical joke.

“I thought you were open!” I shouted over the cacophony of rainfall.

He barked a short laugh. “Nope. Oh. Did Phil leave the sign on? Damnit!”

His amiability came across, in spite of the circumstances. I said, “I guess Phil did. Say, you wouldn’t have a room to rent anyway ...?” I offered a wheedling smile. My clothes were now a second skin on me.

The redhead shook his head. “Sorry, dude. I don’t work the desk, just maintenance. Besides, we’re gonna lose power here in like the next ten minutes.”

I gave him a disappointed face. “Was on the highway. Had to pull off. Was hoping to rest somewhere.” I didn’t know what had happened to the subject nouns of my sentences. I was growing more and more aware of the man’s half-naked state. He was quite a nice slice of taut masculinity.

The rain, of course, was still pouring down on us.

He tugged my arm. “C’mon, let’s go back in the office.”

I followed, and we stood dripping on the floor. Another flash of blue-bright lightning. Another guttural roar of thunder.

“You were driving in this?” he asked.

“I needed to reach a client.”

“You couldn’t figure out that was a bad idea?” He looked amused, if anything.

I shrugged. “Plainly, I didn’t think it through.”

His laugh was a grunt this time. He went behind the counter. “I’ve got to shut off the sign…”

But before he could reach the switch, the office lights flicked off.

“Well,” the red-haired man said, “that’s that. My name’s Shelby, by the way.”

“Kevin,” I said.

“Okay, Kevin.” He gave me a measuring look, as though gauging me against some internal chart of his own devising. He was late-twenties, my age. He had a savvy, can-do air about him. “Tell you what. I am declaring you marooned here. I’ve got no choice to put you in a room. Mind you, no ‘lectricity, so no lights, no TV. But least you won’t drown.”