by Nic Saint
Cars were still pulling in from the highway, the motel their last resort destination, and Scott looked moodily on, while Ralph seemed in no hurry whatsoever to do his business.
“Come on, boy,” he said encouragingly. “Just pick a nice bush and take a wee.”
But Ralph was a picky dog. He seemed to be determined to sample every last bush out there before taking his pick. Meanwhile the snow kept on coming down, covering the world in a thick pack of white and frost, and the wind kept on howling, smacking wetly against Scott’s exposed face. In spite of his thick parka, his knitted fleece-lined cap and his winter gloves, he was freezing his tush off. Not so Ralph, whose tail was wagging excitedly, poking his nose into a bank of snow and leisurely pawing at the fluffy white stuff.
“Ralph!” Scott said desperately. “Just do it already, boy. Just go ahead and pick a bush. They’re all exactly the same and they’re all fit for duty.”
Ralph turned his head and gave an excited woofle.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Scott muttered. He looked up at the sky and allowed the snowflakes to drift down on his face. In spite of the cold he had to admit it was pretty neat. Not that he didn’t get enough snow in Seattle, where he lived, but a snowstorm like this was something else. It was as if the world had completely turned white—covering everything.
So he took out his phone, and snapped a couple of selfies against the backdrop of the motel, took another few shots of Ralph as he dug into the snow, and of Ralph as he finally got wise and did his business, digging up some snow to cover the end result.
“Good boy,” said Scott, fluffing up the Goldendoodle’s ears and getting a happy bark and a lick on the nose in return. “Now let’s get inside, shall we? I can’t feel my feet.”
Returning indoors, he quickly checked the pictures he’d taken. Pretty cool stuff. He posted a couple of them online, then shoved the phone back into his pocket. He had to admit that being out in the cold and watching Ralph enjoy the snow had considerably lifted his mood. And it was with a light heart that he joined his family, hoping that at least they’d picked a nice room for him with a decent flatscreen, some primo cable and other amenities.
Maya couldn’t believe her ears. “No separate rooms? You can’t be serious!”
“Maya, please,” said her mother. “Keep your voice down.”
“Mom, I can’t be in the same room with that animal,” she said, and she didn’t mind who heard her. “He makes weird sounds in his sleep! And what’s more, he’s a hormonal teenager and you know what that means.”
“No, I don’t know what that means and I don’t care,” said Mom, who was obviously very near the end of her tether. “We’re very lucky they have a room left, so…” She turned to the harried-looking receptionist, who was chewing her bottom lip and nervously glancing at the long row of people still to be processed. “We’ll take it. And thank you very much, Vikki.”
The young woman brightened. “So that’s settled then? Can I have your credit card, Mrs. Kelly?”
Tom, who was still cradling Jacob, gestured silently at his fanny pack, and Maya watched her mother remove Dad’s wallet, take out the credit card and hand it to the receptionist.
“This is a disaster,” Maya muttered. The prospect of having to share a bed with her brother was horrifying. “How long do we have to stay here for? Please tell me it’s just the one night.”
“They’re saying the storm will last at least three days,” said Vikki while she processed Dad’s card, then printed out a room key. “Tomorrow will be even worse than today.” She pushed her hair away from her face, then produced a weary smile. “Thank you for your business, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly.”
“How many rooms have you got left?” asked Maya, not to be deterred.
Vikki grimaced and whispered, “Only three.” She glanced at the line of people and Maya got the picture.
She groaned as they stepped away from the counter.
“Looks like we got here just in time,” said Mom.
“I wonder what all these people are going to do,” said Dad.
“Eden said the Middletown fire department and the Red Cross are setting up a shelter in the high school gym and at people’s homes in town.”
“What about other hotels?” asked Scott, who’d rejoined them. “There must be plenty of hotels in the area.”
“All full,” said Mom. “It’s a miracle this motel still had a few rooms left.”
“Probably because it’s a dump,” said Scott. “So what room did you get me?”
“We’re all in the same room, Scott,” said Dad. He handed the baby to Mom. “Now help me get the bags out of the car, will you? Before this blizzard snows it under completely.”
Scott stared at his dad. “The same room? You mean me and duck-face have to share a room?”
“Be nice to your sister,” said Dad automatically.
“We all have to share a room, poo-brain,” said Maya with a slight grin. The look on her brother’s face almost made it worth it to suffer the intolerable cruelty of being cooped up with the rest of her family in the same room for three days.
“All of us? In one room? No way!” Scott cried.
“At least we’re in a room,” said Maya. “But if you prefer to spend the next three nights on a camping cot in some high school gym be my guest. At least I won’t have to live through the horror of sharing a bed with my idiot brother.”
“Sharing a bed! You gotta be joking!” Scott looked absolutely horrified now, and it was gratifying to know that Maya wasn’t the only one going through hell right now.
“Scott,” Dad said. “Come on, dude. Let’s get that luggage before it’s too late.”
And as Scott and Dad walked away, Maya could hear her brother loudly complain about this latest tragedy that had befallen him.
“Teenagers,” she said. “Can’t live with them. Can’t kill them.”
Mom grinned, then immediately wiped away her smile. Parenting 101: never give the impression of partiality, especially by appearing to approve when one kid lambasts another.
“Come on,” Mom said. “Let’s find our room, before someone else gets there first.”
Maya, holding the leash Scott had relinquished, tugged it and Ralph gave a cheerful bark.
At least one member of this family was happy with this unexpected adventure.
Chapter 4
Tom looked around the room and was pretty shocked to discover it was about as big as his home office, or possibly even a touch smaller. There were two double beds crammed in there, or at least that’s what he thought they were, as to him they appeared smaller than a double bed ought to be, a table smushed against the window with two chairs, and an old TV set dumped on a cabinet at the foot of one of the beds. The wallpaper, peeling in places, was an ugly green, the nightstands were plywood and they, too, were shedding parts of their anatomy, and the whole thing gave him a distinct sense of overwhelming sadness.
Still he managed to smile in the face of adversity. Courage under fire. “And here we are,” he caroled loudly, anticipating the torrent of hell that was about to rain down on his and Dee’s heads. “Our new home away from home. Nice and cozy. Snug like a bug in a rug.” And to add some jollity to the occasion, and attempt to defuse the situation before it detonated, he jumped onto the bed closest to the door. “I got dibs on this one, you guys!”
When the expected torrent of rage and disappointment didn’t come, he looked back and saw that the rest of the family was still standing there, mouths agape, expressions of utter shock on their faces.
Dee was the first one to recover. She plastered a fake smile on her face and said, “Ooh. This looks so cozy. I think I’m gonna love it here.”
“This is so wrong,” said Maya, taking in the room.
“This is hell,” her brother chimed in. “I just landed in hell.”
“It’s not so bad,” said Tom. “It’s better than being out there in the storm of the century.” Before his offspring could launch into a tirade he p
icked up the remote and flicked on the TV. It flickered to life with obvious reluctance and displayed footage from WKRC, which appeared to be the local CBS affiliate. A woman reporter dressed like an Eskimo was standing in front of what looked like a big church, shouting into the wind, snow swirling all around her, making it hard to see where she was, exactly.
“At least they got Wi-Fi,” Scott muttered, and flung himself onto the other bed, took out his phone, and was soon lost to the world.
Maya threw up her arms. “Really? I have to sleep in that with that? What about privacy, Dad? No way am I going to share a bed with that animal!”
Tom shared a look with his wife. “I’ll sleep here with Maya, how about that?” Dee suggested. “That way the boys can bunk together and so can the girls. Deal?”
Maya nodded morosely. “Thanks, Mom. At least someone around here knows how to keep their heads together in a crisis.”
Ralph, meanwhile, was sniffing at Tom’s feet, also looking for his place in this entirely new constellation, and Jacob, opening his eyes for the first time since they’d arrived at the motel, looked around at his new environment, fixed his eyes on Maya, who was bending over the baby carrier, puckered up his face and started wailing.
“I’ll take him,” said Maya when Dee made to pick the baby up from the carrier.
“He probably needs a new diaper,” muttered Dee.
Maya gave her mother a weak smile. “Why don’t I take care of that for you?”
“Thanks, honey,” said Dee gratefully.
They watched as Maya disappeared into the bathroom, a fresh diaper in hand, then came walking out again five seconds later. “This place is filthy, Dad. Absolutely gross.”
Tom got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. His daughter was right. There was hair in the shower, toothpaste smeared to the sink, and when he opened the flimsy plastic toilet lid a perfectly shaped turd was staring back at him. “Oh, Christ,” he muttered as he let the toilet lid drop back into place.
For the first time since they’d arrived he felt anger bubbling up inside of him.
This was too much. It took a lot to make mild-mannered Professor Kelly upset but now they’d done it. There was nothing he hated more than a total lack of hygiene.
He stalked out of the bathroom and back into the tiny room, picked up the phone from the nightstand and dialed the lobby. “May I please speak with the manager?” he informed politely when the same harried receptionist snatched up the phone. “Now, please?” he added when she said the manager was unfortunately very busy right now.
The eyes of his family on him, Tom raised himself up to his full height when the manager’s voice finally sounded on the other end.
“Yes, this is Thomas Kelly. Professor Thomas Kelly. I’m afraid that the room we’ve been assigned is an absolute disgrace, sir.” His voice was shaking when he spoke the next words. “There is a turd in the toilet, sir. A turd!”
Another ten minutes later there was a knock at the door and the manager strode in. He was a short man with only a few token strands of hair still attached to his round dome. He had large, slightly protruding eyes and heavy brows, which gave him a distinctly weird look. When he spoke, though, it was with the quiet efficiency and cool authority customary to one in his position.
“Please show me the turd,” he said, and he wasn’t smiling.
Scott, meanwhile, was softly chuckling from his position on the bed, Maya had a hard time suppressing a grin, too, and even Jacob had halted his wailing long enough to produce a soft gurgle that could or could not be interpreted as an expression of mirth.
In absolute silence, his dour demeanor befitting the gravity of the situation, Tom led the way into the bathroom, pointed ostentatiously at the hair in the shower drain, the toothpaste smears in the sink and, finally, with a flourish, he threw the toilet lid back and stood to the side while the manager inspected the offending turd.
The man’s brows puckered together into a frown, and, if possible, his eyes protruded even further. For a moment Tom thought they’d depart from their parent body but they appeared to have been affixed sufficiently to prevent such a calamity from happening.
“Myes,” the manager finally spoke. “You are absolutely right, Professor. This is an outrage. Unfortunately I’m not in a position to assign you another room, as the motel is booked solid, but I will send the cleaner in here to take care of this.” He was fixedly staring at the turd as if attempting to identify the person who’d produced the offending object, but finally gave up and dropped the lid back down.
He stood, rigid and formal. “Accept my deepest apologies, Professor. I will, of course, comp you your room. The Gateway Lodge Motel has certain standards and this, I can assure you, is not up to our usual standards. At least not as long as I’m in charge.”
Tom, mollified by the way the motel manager was handling this minor emergency, softened. “That’s all right. These things happen. And under the circumstances I can understand how your cleaner could have overlooked the previous guest’s… donation.”
“That is most kind of you, Professor Kelly,” said the manager, giving a slight nod. “But still unacceptable. I’m sure there must have been some kind of oversight and I will deal with this matter straight away. You have my word this will never happen again.”
“Thank you,” said Tom, gratified that his complaint had been given the attention it deserved. Suddenly feeling predisposed to chat, he relaxed. “So you’re booked solid, huh?”
“Absolutely full,” said the manager, stepping out of the bathroom, followed by Tom, and nodding a kindly greeting to the rest of the family, who were still having a hard time suppressing their hilarity. “It’s been a hellish day but we’re coping as best we can.”
“How much longer will the storm last?” asked Dee from the bed.
“Three days at the most,” said the manager.
“Do you have enough food to last us three days?” asked Scott, voicing a concern that must have just sprung to mind.
The manager smiled indulgently. “Of course. We have plenty of provisions, young man. In fact we have enough food to feed a small army so we should be absolutely fine. Where are you fine folks from?”
“Seattle,” said Tom.
The little man rocked back on his perfectly polished black brogues. “The emerald city, eh? I’ve never been but everyone tells me Seattle is a wonderful place to visit. The Space Needle. The monorail. Pike Place Market. One of these days I’ll have to make the trip.”
“Actually we live in a small town right next to Seattle,” said Dee. “It’s called Medina.”
The manager smiled. “It’s an honor to have you in my humble abode, Kellys,” he said. “And now if you will excuse me… A manager’s work is never finished.” He nodded a greeting to Tom. “Professor Kelly. Mrs. Kelly. Kids.” He directed a slightly censorious look at Ralph, then left the room.
The moment he’d stepped out, both Scott and Maya roared with laughter. Tom smiled as he shared a look of relief with his wife. So far so good, that look said.
Chapter 5
Vernon Haggis, manager of the Gateway Lodge, stalked away from Room 21D with a deep groove cut between his brows, his mood mimicking the dropping temperatures outside. Motels like the Gateway had a reputation for being less than clean but when he’d assumed managerial duties of the place fifteen years before he’d vowed not to allow the Gateway to fall into the same trap. He didn’t see why a motel should be a fleabag. In fact he saw no reason why a motel couldn’t offer the same fine experience a five-star hotel did.
Everything began with the staff you engaged, of course, and that’s where Vernon’s problems lay. The staff of the Gateway was not the kind of staff the Hilton or the Ritz-Carlton attracted. People yearned to work at the Hilton or the Ritz-Carlton. They dreamed of being connected with the brand—with the class and the fine reputation for excellence.
They didn’t have such lofty dreams when they applied for a job at the Gateway Lodge.
> Muttering to himself, he soon arrived back in the lobby, where poor Vikki Mammal was still slaving away, trying to get those final few people assigned rooms. The rest of them would sadly have to be denied lodgings. Vernon had been in contact with the other hotels in town, all of them fully booked, with the only alternative set up by the fire department at Middletown High.
Or people could brave the storm and head to the next town, which was unwise.
Vernon quickly counted heads, then cleared his throat to attract the attention of the small gathering. When all eyes had turned to him, he said, “I’m afraid the Gateway Lodge is now fully booked.” Over the murmur of disapproval, he added, “The only other option at the moment is Middletown High, where the fire department and the Red Cross are organizing a shelter. There are also some of our local families who have volunteered to open up their homes and offer temporary lodging until this terrible storm has blown over. Those of you who would like to stay in town, please raise your hands.”
There were plenty of people ready to take Middletown up on its offer, he saw, and he nodded to Leroy Burg, Mayor Burg’s son and a volunteer with the Red Cross. Leroy held up his spindly arms and raised his reedy voice. “Hey, you guys! We’ve organized a bus to take you to the shelter. A snowplow will accompany us and clear the road as best it can. But we have to leave now, before the storm gets worse. So please grab your bags and your loved ones and organize yourselves. The bus will be leaving in ten minutes. Ten minutes, people.”
Satisfied the minor evacuation was well underway, Vernon proceeded in the direction of the kitchen, where his chef and staff were now going to have to contend with plenty more people than they were accustomed to. And as he stalked off, his mind abuzz with a million things he still needed to take care of, he thought he saw a man he recognized approaching the front desk. He looked like that famous billionaire Wilbur Hall, owner and proprietor of the Hallmart chain of supermarkets and discount department stores.
