A chip.

Most definitely a chip in the metal.

Yoshi carried the gun to the light to better examine the flaw. Even under the dim illumination of the motel bedside lamp – a 60-watt bulb, he noted, in a lamp capable of accommodating 120 watts – the disfigurement was obvious to the naked eye. It was in the trigger housing of the revolver, a small rut in the metal, an imperfection caused by what?

He sat down on the edge of the hard mattress, thrust his hand into a half-eaten bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos and, while he crunched loudly between words, tried out a few scenarios.

“Okay. Weekend warriors. Dune buggies and shit. Shooting up cactus in the desert. Bullet ricochets off one of those big goddamn boulders and … and … ummmm …”

He took another swig of Pepsi, then scooped up the gas station hamburger and chewed it thoughtfully while studying the gun. The pickle relish on the burger was too sweet. The patty was cold and the onions nonexistent.

“It was dropped,” Yoshi explained to a brown stain in the threadbare pale blue carpeting. “Some guy. Two-car garage, house in the suburbs, wife and kids, buys a gun for a little protection, home invasions and all, Monday Night Football, playing John Wayne for his buddies in the garage during half-time –”

He finished off the burger with a hard swallow, tossed the wrapping on the floor, and reached into the bag for the corn dog. The heat lamps had turned the corn meal batter into a chewy substance that reminded him of road tar mixed with Frosted Flakes. He ate it anyway.

“Factory defect,” he considered aloud. He tore the wrapper off a breakfast burrito – powdered scrambled eggs and one-centimeter chunks of salty ham – and threw back the curtains. The buzzing interstate loomed just a few yards from his room door, red tail lights streaking north to San Francisco and south to L.A.

Chico assured him the gun had no history. Chico lied. Everything would have to be reconsidered now.

The last bite of corndog felt like a jagged stone in his throat. He spied the blue and white neon of a Taco Bell on the other side of the interstate and considered jumping into the rental car. A Taco Supreme, he reasoned, would soothe his frayed nerves right about now.