Double whoo-hoo. This was almost a conversation. I decided to risk it and say something myself. “The road is slowing us down. Too narrow. Too many hairpin curves.”
“Ya think?” Brenda sounded sour. “I’m getting carsick.” There was a pause, and I redirected the rearview mirror to get a better look at her face. She was staring at me. “And when I get carsick, Cowboy, I tend to vomit forward and to the left. Just about where you’re sitting.”
Brenda likes to call me “Cowboy.” No one else does. “Should I stop and give you a chance to . . . you know . . . let you get some air?”
The three in the car all said, “No!” Even little Daniel.
“Okay, okay. Cool your jets. I’m just trying to keep everyone safe.”
“I’m sick of the car,” Brenda said. “I’m sick of flying to out-of-the-way places.”
“Technically,” I said, “Tampa is not out of the way. It’s a pretty big city. And when we were in San Diego—”
“Shut up, Bjorn.”
Yikes. Brenda never uses my first name.
“Yes, ma’am. Shutting up.”
Andi’s guess of five minutes was a tad off. Not by much, just a quarter hour. Brenda would have chewed through the car door if she could have managed it, and a big part of me believed she could.
By the time we rolled into town, the sun had dipped below the mountains and what had once been shadows was now full-blown twilight. The streetlights, which looked a hundred years old if they were a day, flickered on and made a brave effort at pushing back the dark of evening. I was glad to pull onto Main Street and leave the twisty two-lane road behind. Newland, North Carolina, wasn’t all that far from Asheville, but it was all uphill.
“No cell service, guys,” Andi said. “We’ll have to find the hotel the old-fashioned way. Look for it.”
“You made reservations, right?” Brenda made the question sound like a statement.
Andi shook her head. Her flighty red hair flopped around a little. Some might think it looked funny, but I think she’s adorable. As far as I’m concerned, she is gorgeous from the tip-top of her hair down to those tiny things she calls feet.
“I couldn’t make reservations. They don’t have a website, and when I called all I got was an answering service. And by answering service I mean answering machine. Didn’t know those things were still around.”
Brenda leaned forward and for a moment I thought there would be three people in the front seat. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“C’mon, Brenda. I’m not known for my sense of humor.”
That wasn’t completely true. I’d seen Andi laugh many times. She could be witty when she wanted. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t feeling it at the moment.
“I’m not spending the night in the car,” Brenda said with some heat.
“We shouldn’t have to.” Andi didn’t bother to turn to face Brenda. “You know how this works. We get a message with a destination and information on where to stay. Maybe our keepers made reservations for us.”
“They had better.”
“Okay, ladies,” I said, “let’s see what we’re dealing with before we start shooting at each other.” Of course, for self-protection, I glanced over my shoulder to see if Brenda was coming for me. She wasn’t. Instead, I saw little Daniel patting her leg. Daniel might be the only person in the world who can settle Hurricane Brenda. It was working.
I motored slowly down the street, taking in the town. There wasn’t much to take in. I’ve been in a few small towns in my time, and this one was pretty much the same thing. The buildings were old, maybe built in the thirties and forties. Some were made of redbrick, some had wood exteriors. I didn’t see any stucco like what I see in California. There were a few shops and one department store, though most would be hard-pressed to call the small two-story building much of a department store. There were two eating establishments that I hoped offered biscuits and gravy, and a bar for those that liked to drink their meals from a beer mug. I slowed when I came to a building with a gold star on the door and a sign that read Sheriff’s Office.
I pulled to the curb. A second sign hung below: GONE FISHING. We saw a hardware store, a feed store, a shoe store, and a few other stores.
“Anyone else notice the weirdness?” Andi was leaning forward as if by doing so, the town would release its secrets.
“Like what?” Brenda asked.
“Like there’s no one on the street. No pedestrians. No cars on the road. I don’t even see parked cars. Shouldn’t there be a beat-up pickup truck or something?”
“Maybe . . .” I began.
“Maybe what?” Andi said.
I put my brain in high gear, then said, “I got nuthin’.”
“Tank’s got nothing.” Daniel snickered. At least the kid hadn’t forgotten how to talk. He was a quiet kid most of the time. Emotionally challenged his doctors say, but he’s not. He’s just different, and since Brenda took over his care, he is more open than ever. Not a chatterbox, but he no longer hesitates to speak. He has a special gift all his own.
“Hey! I thought you were my pal,” I said with a big grin.
“I am. Pals. You still got nuthin’.”
I caught Brenda and Andi smiling. Sometimes I think the kid could walk into a dark room with no lights and somehow lights would come on anyway. Don’t analyze the statement. Just take it at face value.
We reached the end of Main Street and I saw something that gave me hope—a church. A church with a real steeple. It was small, but beautiful. I’m the spiritual one of the group, and I love church. My friends, well, they haven’t come around. Yet.
Just as we reached the end of Main Street, Andi piped up. “There. I see the hotel. On the left.”
There was movement in the back seat as Daniel and Brenda scooted forward for a look-see.
“I see it.” I did and it looked good to me. I was sick of the car. At first it was hard to make out detail in the dim light, but I could see clearly enough to know I was looking at a three-story, wood-framed building with an attractive front porch and shutters on the windows. The place looked very much like a country home on steroids. It wasn’t actually in town, but about a hundred yards past the last building on the street. As we drew near, I could see someone had kept the place up. The paint looked new, the shutters hung straight, the furniture—about six or so rocking chairs—was very inviting; although, after a flight and a slow drive, I was looking forward to standing for a bit.
“Looks nice,” Andi said. “I like the exterior.”
Brenda huffed. “I’m more interested in the interior. I really gotta pee.”
With that pressing news, I pulled into the parking lot on the east side of the building, took the first space I could find—which was easy since ours was the only car in the lot—and switched off the SUV.
Brenda’s door was open before I could set the parking brake.
CHAPTER
2
Getting a Cold Shoulder
I’m gonna wait to bring in the luggage,” I said. “I want to make sure we’re staying here tonight.”
“It has to be here,” Andi said. “This is where we were sent and it’s the only place in town, at least as far as I saw.”
I agreed with that. I hadn’t seen anything that said motel or hotel or boardinghouse, and I mentioned that fact. “Come on, buddy.” I put a hand on Daniel’s small shoulder. “Let’s go see if Brenda made it to the necessary room.”
Daniel giggled. “Necessary room.” He repeated the phrase then snickered again.
We walked to the front of the old-style hotel, up four steps to the front porch and to a wide green door with stained-glass panels. Light oozed through the colored glass, making me think of the church again.
Andi pushed the door open. It wasn’t fully closed. Apparently Brenda’s need was real. The lobby looked like something out of the fifties. The carpet was ornate and decorated with images of flowers. The flowers had faces. I think they were meant to be cute, but they kin
da creeped me out. I shut the door behind us, then turned my attention to the front of the lobby. The front desk was made of wood that bore a shiny bar-top finish. It was as pretty as the carpet was disturbing.
A small woman stood behind the front desk. She was short and—I hate to say this—looked like a mouse. I don’t mean she had mouse ears; I mean her features were small, her nose slightly pointed, and her hair a light brown that looked like it wanted to be blond. For a moment, I started to look for mouse whiskers. Her eyes were wide, but that was easy to understand. A black woman with dreadlocks had just plunged through the lobby door and made a beeline for—I looked around the lobby—the bathroom next to the stairs. Brenda always made a strong first impression.
I felt a smile might do the lady some good, so I gave her my best we’re-not-criminals grin and walked to the desk. “My name is Tank. This is Andi Goldstein, and this little guy is Daniel.”
“Um, hello.”
She even sounded a little like a mouse. I continued. “I’m guessing you already saw Brenda. She’s about the same height as Andi and—”
“The black girl with the funny hair?” the woman squeaked.
“That’s her. We’ve been on the road for a long time and she needed . . . to use the facilities.”
“I figured that part out.”
Andi moved to my side. “I called and left a message yesterday on your machine but never got a call back.”
I heard a flushing sound followed by a door opening. Brenda exited, looking refreshed. “Sorry about that, but when a girl has to go, a girl has to go.”
Andi returned to the desk clerk. “Anyway, we would like three rooms, please.”
“I-I’m sorry. We’re full up.”
We stood dumbfounded. I started to say something, but Andi had taken control. “If you were booked up, then why didn’t you return my call and tell us that before we drove up here?”
“I didn’t get the message. Maybe someone else did.” The woman inched back a foot as if she expected Andi to spring over the counter.
I watched as Andi’s eyes shifted to a nameplate on the counter. “Jewel Tarkington, is it? Listen, Ms. Tarkington, I think you’re having some fun with us. Maybe Brenda’s mad dash in here put you off a little, but we’re really nice people and need a place to stay tonight.”
“I wish I could help.”
“Our money is good,” I added.
“I have no doubt that you are wonderful people, but like I say, the hotel is—”
“There are no cars in the parking lot,” Brenda said. The temperature in the room dropped at least five degrees.
“We don’t use cars much around here—”
“I see you keep your keys on that board behind you,” Andi said. “It looks to me like every hook has a key hanging from it. Did everyone leave at the same time?”
“No, of course not, it’s just that . . . that . . .”
Daniel spoke to Brenda softly, but I heard him just fine. “Like Tank. She’s got nuthin’.”
I half expected Brenda to hush my little buddy, but she didn’t. I don’t think I would have, either.
“Let me see if I have this right, lady. No cars in the lot, no one in their rooms, no noise from people staying here, and you want us to believe that every room in the place is booked. You expecting a bus or somethin’?”
“Please, there’s nothing I can do.” Jewel began to look a little pale. “I can call another hotel for you. You know. Get you booked there.”
“This town has another hotel?” I asked.
“Well, no. I didn’t mean in Newland, I meant somewhere else. There’s a hotel up the road a piece. I hear it’s real nice.”
“How far up the road?” Andi’s words were coming out a little sharper than usual.
“Not far. Just fifty or sixty miles.”
“Fifty or sixty miles!”
I could tell Brenda was about to launch herself over the counter. I put a hand on her shoulder and gave a little squeeze. A second later, Daniel was standing at her side. When I say standing at her side, I mean he had pressed himself against her leg. She put a hand on his shoulder kinda like I had put one of my mitts on her.
She took a ragged breath. “You’re going to turn us out onto the street. You’re telling us that the only thing we can do is take my son up a winding, narrow mountain road in the dark to some other hotel just so you don’t have to bother with us?”
Daniel sniffed. I glanced at the boy. His lower lip quivered. His eyes were wet. He looked at the floor, then leaned his head against Brenda’s hip as if sorrow had made it too heavy to hold erect. If I were a member of the group that nominates actors for the Oscars, I would put Daniel’s name in for an award.
“Son?” Jewel looked back and forth from Daniel to Brenda.
“What? You don’t think a black woman can adopt a white kid? Is that what all this is about? Race?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what is the problem, lady?” Brenda’s tone grew hotter. “You gonna throw us back into the dark rather than release three of your precious rooms?”
She looked out the front window. “I can’t get you to leave, can I?”
“No, ma’am.” I smiled when I said that.
Jewel marched around the front desk, then beat feet to the front door. I watched and then waited for her to tell us to get out. Instead, she locked the door, twisting the deadbolt latch several times to make certain it had engaged. She then checked to make sure the front windows were still battened down. With brisk movements, she closed the curtains over the window, taking a peek out as if expecting a visit from the local pitchfork-and-torch mob.
“Okay, okay. I’ll give you three rooms.” She hustled back behind the desk. “Do you mind walking up stairs? Our elevator doesn’t work. Never had the money to get the thing fixed.”
“Maybe that’s because you keep sending paying customers away.”
I wish Brenda hadn’t said that. Jewel ignored her.
“We don’t mind stairs,” Andi said as I started to disagree, but settled on being glad that I wouldn’t be driving any more tonight.
“Thank you, ma’am.” I gave my best smile again, the one I save for special occasions. “It’ll only take me a moment to get the luggage from the car.”
“No!” the mouse roared. “I mean, leave it. Get it in the morning.”
“We have toiletries and clothes in there—”
“I don’t care. I’ve already locked up.” She looked at the door. “I don’t want any more strangers walking through the door. If I had known you were coming, I would have locked it before you got here.”
“Why?” Brenda asked. “Does the boogeyman live in Newland?”
“No. It’s too scary for him.” Jewel fidgeted with the keys. “Look, I’ll let you stay for free. Just don’t unlock the door. Got it?”
“No, I don’t got it.” Brenda’s flame was growing hotter.
“This is the deal. You stay for free, but you don’t go out until the sun is up tomorrow. If you’re hungry—”
“We are,” I said.
She studied me with worried eyes for a moment. “A man your size must be hungry all the time.”
“Not all the time . . . okay, you’re right.”
Jewel pointed to a door in the back near the western corner. “That’s the kitchen. Feel free to make a meal for yourself. There’s eggs, bacon, and the like. You can have breakfast for dinner.” She paused. “There’s some leftover fried chicken I made yesterday. Mashed potatoes and gravy, too. You’ll have to heat that up, but it should fill the hole.”
Fried chicken, potatoes, and gravy. I considered kissing Jewel on her little mouse nose.
“That’s very kind of you.”
I don’t think she heard the compliment. “Stay away from the windows. And by all that is holy, don’t open them.”
“Until sunup, right?” Andi said. She gave me a knowing look that said This woman is a couple of sandwiches shy of a picnic.
Andi pressed a little harder. “I don’t suppose you want to explain all this. What are you afraid of?”
“You’re right, ma’am, I don’t want to explain it.”
“Leave the woman alone,” Brenda said. “We have rooms. Let’s be happy about that.”
Andi’s expression said she wasn’t satisfied with the suggestion, but she didn’t object. When Brenda was right, Brenda was right.
“Good.” Jewel pushed the keys forward. “Third floor. The windows look out the back and onto the mountains. Real pretty in the morning. The rooms don’t have bathrooms. Halfway down the hall you’ll find a men’s and women’s facility. Showers are in there, too. It takes a few minutes for the hot water to make its way up to the third floor, so be patient.”
She reached beneath the counter and pulled out a handful of toothbrushes, still in their factory wrapping, thank the Lord, four combs, and four tiny hairbrushes. She also retrieved those small bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and soap in a box. She was well stocked for all the people who didn’t stay in her hotel.
We each said thank you, some of us more sincerely than others, and started up the stairs. I led the way. From behind me I heard Brenda say, “That wasn’t weird at all.” Yep, she is still the queen of sarcasm.
CHAPTER
3
Breakfast for Dinner
The rooms were nice enough. Not grand. Not even business class. I guess most people would call the place quaint. Back in my college football playing days, our football team had better rooms when we were out of town for away games. That was then; this was now. The carpet was brown and looked clean; the bed looked like something dragged out of the fifties but with less style. There was an inexpensive dresser, a side chair, and an end table, all made from oak. The finish had yellowed over time. Still, there was nothing to complain about—except the wallpaper. Like the carpet in the lobby, the wallpaper reminded me of pictures I had seen of homes from the late 1800s. It was gaudy, overdone, and worse, had flowers with faces on them just like the lobby carpet. I didn’t know if I could undress in front of all those tiny eyes. No wonder the hotel was empty. To anyone with an active imagination, this was a room designed to raise nightmares.
The Probing: Leviathan, The Mind Pirates, Hybrids, The Village Page 22
