Purgatory Hotel

by Anne-Marie Ormsby

  “Didn’t the police wonder why he hadn’t gotten rid of the evidence?”

  “No, they suspected that he fled suddenly and didn’t have time. They were too consumed with the evidence to worry too much about whys and wherefores. They just started hunting him down, looking for a man on the run, not a body in the woods. They had only just done scouring those woods after turning up all the bodies of the girls. It was the perfect time for a burial out there.”

  Dakota was slightly in shock, but somehow was unsurprised that Jackson had finally killed Goldman.

  “What about the sightings around the woods and cemetery?”

  “Amazing how many people can see an angry ghost. He couldn’t stop himself from going back to those woods, just as he couldn’t when he was alive. I think if you asked him now why he was so angry about being dead he would say that he wanted to kill more children before he died. He seems quite at home out in our woods here though, no wonder they call him ‘Woods’”

  “I thought he was stalking me when I got here; he seemed to be everywhere I went, but then so were you.”

  “Hmm, well, he does still love a good stalk,” muttered Jackson standing up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “For a drink. You coming? There’s something else I need to tell you, something that isn’t in your book.”

  Dakota nodded and got up. In her mind, all she could see was her own dead body, lying out there in Pan’s Wood, undiscovered and alone. She remembered how she had felt about leaving Michelle Taybury’s body out in those same woods, and thought sadly how nobody had felt enough about her to not leave her to rot out there alone. All the days and nights that had passed on earth since she had arrived here in Purgatory, all those days and nights her poor broken body had lain out in the dark heart of the woods, her dead eyes staring but not seeing every small animal that passed by and stopped to look at her body, confused by its stillness.

  She closed the book of her life and returned it to the shelf where it belonged. One tiny life amongst a million others, new souls and old souls, all lined up for eternity in that old library. Leaving the library, she felt an odd sense of comfort, of at last knowing what had happened, of what she had done wrong and why she deserved to be in Purgatory amongst the dregs of humanity. She was a murderer who was in love with a murderer. It seemed at last she knew there was no hope for her soul.

  THIRTY-SEVEN: One Last Thing

  Dakota followed Jackson out of the library and down the corridor that led back to the lobby. She felt slightly dizzy, as though the remembrance of her last days was too much for her and was setting her off balance Ahead of her, Jackson walked slowly, his long coat opening out behind him like lowered wings, as he reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette, his match illuminating the gloom of the corridor momentarily before it faded back into its normal state. The shadows grew back again, reclaiming the hall, strangling the glow from the small lamps as they shifted back and forth from bright to dim. Nameless shapes huddled into the darkest edges of the hall, insects twitching at the corners of Dakota’s dizzied vision. In her head she could hear the piano strains of a Nick Cave song, the corridor twisted side to side ahead of her as Jackson hummed the tune.

  Finally they passed from the long gloom into the odd comfort of the Bar, but as they reached the doors Dakota paused.

  “Wait,” she said, and Jackson stopped and turned back to look at her. “I have to go see Ariel; I need to talk to her. Can I just see you in there?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get one in for you, but don’t be long, I haven’t finished with you yet,” he replied, a touch of humour in his voice but no smile on his lips.

  “Uh yeah, I don’t think I’d be able to get too far away from you. Do you?” she muttered sarcastically as she turned away from him. Jackson’s hand reached out and grabbed her wrist causing her to jump slightly.

  “I mean it, don’t be long… please. Now that we are talking again, I don’t want to stop. There’s so much I want to tell you…” There was a softness in his tone, one she had heard before only in their most quiet and intimate moments.

  As she turned and walked away, she wondered how it was that after all that had happened, she was still in love with him. She had killed him and in effect he had killed her, and yet she still had the same feelings she’d had on her return from Ireland: complete acceptance that he was all she ever wanted, and that nothing else mattered but how close he was to her.

  As she approached reception, Dakota found Ariel was waiting there for her, a calm look upon her face that developed into a soft, encouraging smile as she stepped aside to invite Dakota back to the room where they had talked before.

  “So you finished your book?” asked Ariel as they took their chairs.

  “Yes, it’s all over; I know it all. I must say, it was a surprise ending. I never suspected Lula, never thought she could do that…” Dakota broke off as a wave of sadness washed over her.

  “And Jackson?”

  “Yes, well that was another surprise. I never saw that coming. I had higher expectations of myself,” mused Dakota, fiddling with a cigarette.

  “Higher expectations?”

  “I never thought I could be a murderer; I don’t feel like one.”

  “And how do you suppose a murderer should feel?” Ariel asked, a faint smile ghosting her lips.

  “I don’t know. I suppose I thought there would be the whole… evil thing, but I don’t feel evil. I feel like I always did, just guiltier, but then again, I always did have something to feel guilty about.” She paused to light her cigarette. “I’m not who I thought I was when I woke up here. I didn’t feel like a killer; I felt like a victim. Now I am starting to wonder how everyone else here feels. Something David said… where is that ‘just’ God?”

  “You don’t think God is justified in sending you here?”

  “In a way, but I was a victim all my life. I didn’t know any better. I was too young to cope with what I went through. David was a victim who defended himself… so was Betty! Why do we have to suffer alongside people like Goldman – people who kill because they like it?”

  “Perhaps because no matter what way you look at it, you all took a life, and that is not God’s plan.”

  “Yes, but death is predetermined! How can we be punished for what God lays out for us?”

  “God doesn’t lay it out, God doesn’t lay anything out. Humans make choices. Humans die. There are miracles: babies get pulled from wreckages of earthquakes, people survive tsunamis, which is God’s hand. But God doesn’t take lives… She saves them. And as I said before, the eternal balance must exist, for every life She saves. One must be lost, and how that happens is left to humanity. People die of cancers and AIDS, both diseases created through evolution, through mankind’s mistakes, and whether you believe it or not, God is not responsible for evolution. All She did was create the earth and the first amoebas. The rest was nature.”

  “Forgive me but I have hard time believing that God couldn’t have stepped in whenever He… sorry She wanted to!”

  “You’re right, She could have… but She didn’t. That was Her choice, Her Plan…”

  Silence filled the small room, with its plush chairs and useless fireplace. It felt like a Victorian parlour – too much velvet and rotting lace. Dakota watched, partly amused as her cigarette ash slipped from her cigarette and disappeared into thin air before it hit the carpet.

  “I don’t get it...”

  “You will, when you get to meet Her. That’s how it works,” Ariel explained, her cool eyes glowing in the dimly lit room.

  “If I ever get there. I think I have a long way to go yet, a lot of work to do, and I don’t even know where to start… or how to start,” Dakota said, a touch of despair leaking into her voice.

  “You will find a way. God has not shut you out forever, and the opportunity to make amends is there. You just have to do the work. But you have to ask yourself, how much do you want it?”

  At those words, Dakota
thought of Jackson, and of leaving him behind in this place. Could she bear to be separated from him again?

  As though Ariel had read her mind she added, “He has been your downfall in every single one of your lives, he murdered you four times and managed to completely destroy any hope you ever had of a normal life in your last incarnation. How is it you still love him?”

  Dakota looked up at Ariel and could see it was a genuine question. Ariel really did not understand.

  “Do you know what it’s like? I mean, were you ever human?”

  “No, all angels were the first creation, created by God as companions and helpers. We have never lived a normal life. We’ve spent time amongst the living – for some of us it’s all we do. But no, none of us were ever human,” she explained.

  “Not that it would make any difference if you had, but if you had, you would know, there’s no way to explain why you love someone. I know now that it’s because of your last lives together, but in that first life, the first time you get to live… what is it that draws you to that particular soul? I always thought that I loved Jackson because of how important he made me feel, but looking back, he made me feel pretty shit, too. After a while I think I came to realise that we had been together in other lives, but I don’t know why I fell in love with him the first time around.” Dakota paused, the distant sounds of the storm making her think of the rain falling on every part of the hotel, every window haunted by the cold eternal night. “I don’t know what happened in my first life. Betty never read it cos we just sort of thought… well, we knew what happened. Maybe it was different?”

  “Maybe. You should read it, Dakota. It might help you understand your love for Jackson. And when you do, perhaps you can explain it to me?” Ariel almost laughed as she said this, realising that while she was an angel, there was something Dakota might be able to understand that she couldn’t.

  “I’d like to tell you that you’re missing out on something by not knowing about love, but to be honest,” Dakota swallowed a huge lump in her throat as a tear rolled down her cheek, “love has never made me happy. It just hurts.”

  Unable to find anymore words, Dakota left Ariel and headed for the Bar. She felt that odd pull towards Jackson that she had felt in life, as though they were invisibly attached by an umbilical cord. The Lobby was more empty than usual, but still the odd soul shifted in the shadows, the glow from the fire offering false comfort.

  She thought about her first life, and whether she might learn the truth about why she and Jackson ever fell in love in the first place. Another life to take on board, more pain to deal with. Could it be worth it?

  When she walked into the Bar, Jackson was sitting by the bar smoking, watching Danny who was slumped asleep in his usual place...

  Dakota sat between him and Jackson as he motioned at her to poke Danny into wakefulness.

  “Hey you, what’s a girl got to do to get a drink here?” She laughed, prodding Danny till he sprang up like a robot and stood behind the bar, blinking his eyes into clear vision. Something like horror flitted across his face as he looked at her and Jackson.

  “Hey, he can see you, too!” Dakota noticed, mildly amused.

  “He’s the Barman; he can see everybody,” replied Jackson.

  “Did I tell you, Jackson, this man is the first friend I made here? I only have two friends here but Danny was the first. I take it you’ve met him before, I mean everyone who comes here must come straight to the Bar,” she said, lighting her own cigarette.

  “Oh yes, I’ve met him before, haven’t I, Danny,” Jackson said, emphasising the name at the end. Dakota could see there was something between the two men, but she wasn’t sure what so she asked if there was a problem.

  “No, not a problem for me, but it might be for you D,” Jackson muttered without taking his eyes off Danny.

  Lightning lit the room for a moment and Danny didn’t move.

  “Tell her what your real name is,” instructed Jackson, reaching over and taking a bottle of whisky to swig from. Danny looked bitterly at Jackson, shaking his head slowly.

  “OK, what is going on? I am actually interested now,” Dakota stated, looking from Danny to Jackson until one of them looked at her.

  “It’s interesting stuff, D, really,” smiled Jackson, and straight away she knew it wasn’t going to be interesting in a good way.

  “Why are you doing this? Hasn’t she been through enough? Aren’t I paying for it now? Can’t we just leave it alone?” begged Danny. Jackson shook his head silently.

  “Tell her your name,” Jackson repeated.

  “I know his name, Jackson,” Dakota interjected.

  “No, you don’t. You know him by his middle name.”

  “My name is William Daniel Shade.” The old man addressed Dakota, his tired blue eyes fixed on her with a look that expected imminent upset.

  “Shade?” Dakota’s brain began to sift through information because something was calling to her from a long-ago memory. Finally she found it.

  That night she had seen a man standing under the streetlight opposite her house drinking cans of beer, she had only seen the halo of his grey hair in the light that was resting on him from above, throwing his face into darkness.

  “You’re Jackson’s father?” she asked. “Did you know who I was? Why didn’t you say anything?” Her memory reminded her of Danny’s often odd behaviour when she mentioned finding out about her life, and even the odd look on his face when she first told him her name. “I’m sorry I murdered your son,” she said suddenly which surprised them all. Both men looked at her oddly, and then she saw that soft look in Danny’s eyes which she knew meant he forgave her.

  “Oh, it gets better,” Jackson mocked. “Did he ever tell you why he is here?”

  “No, actually you have avoided that question ever since I got here. I never knew why, I just guessed you weren’t dealing with it very well and didn’t want to talk about it. Why are you here, Danny?” asked Dakota.

  Danny sighed deeply and lit up a cigarette before beginning.

  “I did tell you, remember? I said I had killed my lover, same as you.” Dakota nodded as she recalled his brief response to her last attempt to find out why he was in Purgatory. “Well, all that is true. I was having an affair with a married woman, and had been for many years. Then one night I followed her as she went out with her husband, to steal a few moments with her. She managed to get away from him for a while and came out to see me in my car where I was waiting. She said that she didn’t want to see me anymore, that enough was enough and she wasn’t going to leave her family for me. She looked so beautiful that night, in a summer evening dress, a warm wind shifting her hair. She had always been so beautiful. Since we were children, I had loved her and she loved me, too. But when she got older she got bored of me and only came back to me when she wanted what only I could give her. She always said I could never make her happy – that’s why she didn’t marry me – but she still wanted me, so she always came back to me. But this time she said it was really over, that she was worried about her family ever finding out and she cared too much about them.” He paused to smoke and rub his eyes. “You know how it feels, that moment when you realise it’s over and they really don’t want you anymore,” he said, looking straight at Dakota who looked briefly at Jackson and nodded.

  “Well, that was it. She said what she wanted to and wasn’t interested in my pleas. I could see in her eyes she didn’t want to end it with me, but she was going to do it anyway. And she got out of the car and walked back inside to the party, in her beautiful dress, and she didn’t even look back at me. My heart felt like it had caved in. I thought I was going to die right there, and when I didn’t, I decided I would kill myself.

  “So I sat in my car and drank the bottle of whisky I had with me and waited for the party to finish. When it did, I saw her again, leaving the hall with her husband and getting into their car. I suppose at this point I should be saying, ‘I don’t know what possessed me,’ but I would be
lying. I know exactly why I did what I did. I followed them in my car, drunk as you like. I could barely focus but I concentrated on that car with all my strength. We were out in the country, a moonlit night, nearing midnight, and out there on the deserted road, I ran that car off the road. I chased them and forced them off into a ditch.” Silence sat between them for a few moments. Everything was still except for the storm outside, rattling the windows angrily. “I left them there and drove off. I found out later that they both died, and luckily for me her husband, who was driving, had been drinking, so they assumed it was an open and shut drunk-driving accident. But her death ripped me apart and after that I was never the same. I just drank all day long, lost my job, survived on pocket money given to me by Jackson, but eventually I gave up completely and one drunken night I decided to visit where she had died and as fate would have it, a lorry ran me over as I stumbled out of the ditch and killed me. And here I am.”

  “What are you leaving out?” Dakota asked, her fists bunching inexplicably as though some kind of bottled rage was pushing the stopper out and she did not know why.

  “The woman I killed was your mother, and your father died with her, getting the blame for both their deaths because he had drunk too much Guinness at the wedding party.”

  Something like acceptance passed through Dakota momentarily, before she said, “So you thought you were following the woman you loved, but you accidentally killed my parents. Is that right?”

  “No, Dakota. I was following the woman I loved. I knew your mother since we lived in Ireland, and I followed her over here after she and your father finished their tour of the States. She married your father because he loved her and he would look after her. He had inherited a lot of money from his family and I had nothing. And when I followed her here I still had nothing, but she still loved me and still saw me whenever she could. So I married too, had a son and waited around in the wings for her, for Hannah.”