Hell's Hotel

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Hell's Hotel Page 13

by Lesley Choyce


  “You think you’re the only one who makes mistakes?” Tara proceeded to tell her about how her social life in Vancouver started out at zero and immediately went downhill from there.

  Jenn looked a little more together. “You really got dumped on, didn’t you?”

  “Totally.”

  Jenn was almost laughing now.

  “Hey, what’s so funny?”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t picture you with the weirdos, and then, like, the whole school treating you like you were dirt.”

  “I was an outsider. Nobody knew who I was, or cared. They believed what they wanted to.”

  “That’s too much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You just described the way I felt my entire life.”

  Tara felt a chill run down her spine. She hadn’t seen the connection. She thought she had understood Jenn’s problems, but she had never really experienced what Jenn had been feeling. Now she knew.

  Jenn looked at her friend. The smile faded. “I didn’t finish the story about the fire.”

  “Go ahead. I want every detail.”

  “Well, I was crawling along the floor in the loft. I could hardly breathe. I couldn’t tell for sure where I was going. I yelled, but there was no one there. I’m sure everyone was gone. I tried to stand up, but the smoke was worse, so I got back down. I didn’t even know which way to go. And then I nearly fell right through the hole in the floor where the stairway once was. I screamed but there was no one there to help me. Lucky for me, the ladder was still there. Craig was gone but the ladder was there. I climbed down, but when I reached the bottom I nearly passed out. There was this intense heat. I could see now, though, because of the flames. I was having a hard time breathing, because of the fire and the smoke. I was getting dizzier and dizzier. I was about to black out and there was this voice in my head saying: Do it. Just let go. Just give in.

  “I was ready to do it, too. It seemed like an easy way out of everything. But then something fell on me from above. It was a piece of one of the mattresses that was on fire. It burned me here.” She pointed to an awful red patch of skin on her neck. “I felt the pain. And it brought me back. I ran down to the second floor. The walls themselves were on fire. Even the staircase down to the first floor was burning. I kept going anyway. I ran out onto the street. There was a crowd there. Somebody pointed at me. But I saw cops around. I just didn’t want to be there. I was so scared. My neck hurt really badly, but I just wanted to get away from there. So I ran.”

  “I don’t understand about the part of just giving up. How could you even think that?”

  “I just considered it. Like you would say, it was one of the options at the time. One of the options I didn’t go for.”

  ***

  Tara’s father said he had been calling all over the place. Tara hadn’t told him she was coming home, but her mother had. He had come to the airport to pick up Tara but she wasn’t there. He had checked with WestJet. She had been on the flight but she hadn’t picked up her luggage. He didn’t know where she had gone. He was considering calling the police, but as soon as he saw his daughter arrive with Jenn, it looked like he began to understand.

  “Tara, I was so worried about you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” she said, giving her dad a hug. “Jenn’s going to be staying for a bit. Is that okay?”

  “I think that’s just fine. Jenn, you’re welcome here for as long as you like.” Now he was noticing the burns. “You should have a doctor look at those.”

  “No thanks,” she said.

  “Well, I’m no doctor but I’m around them enough. How about letting me take a look, make sure there’s no infection.”

  Jenn nodded okay. Tara’s father examined the burns and said, “It could be a lot worse. I’d like to put some antiseptic on them though, make sure they don’t get worse. Tomorrow we’ll get you to a doctor. You’re probably going have some scars, though.”

  “Hey, one more set of scars won’t bother me,” she said.

  “Healing is the important thing,” he said.

  “Really important,” Tara added. She was looking at her father and knew that he understood what she meant.

  The Grand Parade

  The next day, Tara and Jenn both slept until noon. When they went downstairs for a very late breakfast, the radio was on. The news anchor on the radio stated that, “In the aftermath of the fire at so-called Hell’s Hotel, a fire of unknown origins, the city has decided to crack down on other buildings and areas where street kids congregate. Community activists say the big question, of course, is exactly where else are the kids going to go? And, they say, if the city’s claim that there are adequate facilities is correct, why do some kids still prefer to be on the street? It’s been determined that there were no fatalities in the fire. The fire marshal has called that ‘a miracle.’”

  Tara was thinking just how close it had been to a miracle. Jenn might not have come out of it alive. But she closed her mind off to that thought. She didn’t want to imagine that scenario one more time.

  “No fatalities,” Jenn echoed. “But where do we go now?”

  “You don’t have to go anywhere. You can stay here, remember?”

  “I know. But I’m still one of them. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I can turn my back on Craig, Courtenay, Charlotte’s Web, and all the rest.”

  Tara was beginning to realize that her focus had been too narrow. Just because Jenn was off the street, temporarily or permanently, it didn’t mean that the problem was solved. “I think we should go back down there. I’d like to know what’s really going on.”

  When Tara explained to her father why they wanted to go back downtown, he agreed to drive them. But first they’d stop at the hospital. A doctor checked out Jenn’s burns. “Second degree,” he said. “You were lucky.” He gave her some medicated cream to put on her neck and arms, and after that, they left. When Tara’s father drove them to King Street, he said, “I’d like to stay around and help if you’ll let me.”

  “No, Dad. Thanks. I know what you’re thinking. I’ll be careful and I’ll ask for help if we think we need it. We have a few things to sort out first. A lot of Jenn’s friends don’t even know what happened to her yet. Some still might think she died in the fire. We’re okay, honest.”

  She knew her father had a hard time just leaving them there on the street after everything that had happened, but as she watched him drive away, she also knew how much faith he still had in his daughter.

  They walked all around the usual hangouts, only to discover that no one was around. Something was really wrong. “I don’t get it,” Jenn said. “Maybe they were all arrested or rounded up and shipped out of here. That’d sure solve the city’s problem.”

  They noticed then that they were being given the once-over by someone, an older guy. It was the Social Services guy, the one Josh had tried to fight with.

  Tara walked over to him. “Where’d everyone go? What did you do, have them all shipped to a concentration camp?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” He looked at Jenn. “Some people tried to convince me you were dead.”

  “Maybe I’m a ghost,” she snapped back.

  “I never talked to a ghost before.”

  “Cut the crap,” Jenn said. “Where is everybody?”

  “Down at the Grand Parade. They’re talking it over. Things are getting tense.”

  “What do you mean?” Tara asked.

  “I don’t like the looks of it, either. Since the fire, people are starting to complain. Store owners, residents, they don’t want to see another fire. They think it might spread and burn down their houses, their stores or half the city. They think the kids are to blame. Police have been trying to secure the other buildings.”

  “Where are we suppos
ed to go?” Jenn said.

  “That’s what I keep asking myself,” he said. “I know the group homes aren’t for everybody, but there’s got to be something. People are going to have to compromise somewhere.”

  “Let’s go,” Jenn said to Tara. Tara knew Jenn didn’t like to even think about group homes. For her, the group home thing had been worse than living on the street. And she’d gotten into more trouble.

  The Grand Parade was a little park alongside city hall, a well-kept, prim and proper kind of a space, where bank tellers ate their lunches. It was surrounded by high metal fences and had the feel of someplace that was English and Victorian. It wasn’t a place where street kids felt that comfortable. Usually, there were too many cops and it was too close to city hall. Tara saw about twenty people sitting on the lawn, though. They were listening to someone. His back was to Tara and Jenn. Something was up.

  When they got closer, Tara recognized the voice. Josh. The great suburban saviour had come downtown to get involved in yet another cause.

  As they walked closer, however, one by one, the heads turned away from Josh to look at them. Craig, Courtenay, Mark — they stood up and stared in disbelief. Josh seemed annoyed that everyone had stopped listening to him until he turned around.

  Craig got up and walked towards Jenn, reached out his arms and engulfed her in a bear hug. “Man, am I glad to see you,” he said.

  Josh was looking at Tara now. “Good to see you back.”

  “Yeah. I’m back.”

  “You should have stayed in Vancouver. This city sucks. Look at this. These guys have no place to go.”

  “I felt like I should be here,” Tara said defiantly.

  “We don’t need you,” one angry-looking guy with long, greasy hair snapped at her. “We don’t need anybody’s help. What we need is for everybody to just back off and get off our case. Before the fire we just wanted to be left alone. Everything was cool. Now we got TV camera crews and newspaper reporters all over us, so people are getting worried. They think we’re gonna rip them off or be a bad influence on their kids.”

  Tara knew he was right. The more attention they got, the worse things were for them. She looked around at the crowd and saw four or five kids she recognized from school. These weren’t all street kids. Josh had probably brought along some of his friends from Citadel. Carla was there, of course. So were Griffin and Beth. It was pretty easy to sort out the street kids from the straights. And it was pretty obvious which category Tara fell into.

  “Can we talk?” Tara asked Josh, pulling him away to stand behind a monument to dead soldiers.

  “You’re not exactly being helpful,” he said to her in his Mr. Know-It-All voice.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I thought I should get involved,” Josh said. “A lot of them are my friends.”

  “You got involved,” Tara snapped back, “because you like to put yourself in the centre of attention.”

  “They trust me.”

  “Bullshit. They don’t trust you, and they don’t trust me. This is not our battle, it’s theirs. What do you think you can do here?”

  “I figured that we would just stay here, camp out right in front of city hall until somebody notices. When they try to chase us off, we make demands.”

  “What kind of demands?”

  “A building. Someplace for everyone to stay without any hassles, without any rules.”

  “Nobody’s going to agree to that.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Tara looked back at the thirty or so kids. A few more had shown up. Some from Citadel High, some from the streets. There were cops around but they were being cool, hanging back. Every once in a while, one would talk into his walkie-talkie, reporting back about the status here.

  What was the status here? She studied the faces.

  She saw people who looked tired and hurt. They had been chased out of another empty building last night, thanks to the crackdown. Instead of bringing sympathy for the street kids, the fire in Hell’s Hotel had brought fear and mistrust. Tara was beginning to understand what they were feeling: they had nowhere to go.

  The same guy who had told her to leave was throwing stones now. He didn’t exactly look like he was trying to break a window; he was just sitting there like a kid skipping stones out to sea. The only problem was he was throwing them too close to the cops who were standing over by the gates. Not a bright idea. Each stone he threw got a little closer. Tara looked at Josh. He was smiling. Right.

  “Josh, this is no good. I know your game here. Hang around until somebody does something stupid, until trouble starts, then jump in and pretend to be the spokesman, make demands, get lots of attention.”

  Josh had a haughty look about him. “Something like that. These guys have a right to be angry. I’m on their side. I thought a little support from some kids at school would be in order.”

  The guy tossing rocks had now been joined by others. The stones were small, they weren’t going to hurt anybody, but they sure were starting to annoy the two police officers who had done nothing so far except stand around without hassling anybody.

  Some of the kids were starting to shout insults towards the city hall. Bad language, bad attitude. This was Josh’s idea: just hang around city hall with this crowd of human dynamite and wait for it to go off. This would be his notion of major entertainment. Wait and see who gets his picture on the front page of the Mail Star. Wait and see who gets labelled as an activist for the homeless.

  Jenn walked over to Tara. “This isn’t right. Nothing good is going to come of this.” The cops were not so cool now. The stones were getting a little too close, the catcalls at city hall a little too loud.

  Josh screamed out above the rest, “We have rights too, you know! You can’t ignore us.”

  He would pretend he was one of them, Tara knew, go the whole route until it got late enough at night. Then he’d go to his cushy home, safe and sound, and everyone else would be stuck where they were. Tara was ready to call him a hypocrite, until she realized that she was almost as bad. Here she was, wanting to do something, wanting to get involved, but she, too, had an easy backup. She could go home to a warm house. If she got in trouble, her father would take care of it.

  “I’m getting out of here,” Jenn said. “I don’t want to get into this. I’m gonna split.”

  “Don’t go, Jenn,” Courtenay said. “Josh is right. We have to get their attention.” She picked up a stone and threw it so it clanked off the metal fence not far from where the police were standing.

  A couple of women were talking to the police now, pointing to the crowd. That would be the turning point. If anyone complained, the police would have to respond. Then things were going to get ugly.

  Solutions

  “I’m not sure this is gonna work,” Craig said to everyone. It was only a matter of time before he’d have to speak up. “What the city wants to do is ignore us. If we don’t cause too much grief, they’ll forget about the fire, and leave us alone. That might be better than rubbing their noses in it. I’m out of here.”

  Jenn was also ready to go. A couple of other kids were getting up to leave, but those who were staying looked more defiant than ever. Tara realized there was an opportunity here. Everyone was together. That might be a good thing.

  “Anybody hungry?” she shouted, sounding a little too much like a preppy cheerleader at a football game.

  The stones stopped flying. There was silence. “I got twenty bucks. I’m gonna go down the street and buy some burgers. We’ll split whatever I bring back. Anybody else want to chip in?”

  Josh looked really ticked off. The kids, like Craig and Jenn, who had started to walk off, away from the ruckus, stopped dead in their tracks. Food was a big deal. You don’t walk away from food. Tara hurried over to the other kids from Citadel. She knew
that Josh’s friends didn’t walk around downtown without cash in their pockets. A couple dollars here. A five there. Another five. Some were quite happy to share. But not everyone.

  She hit on Josh last. He was still standing there, ready to launch into World War III, only his troops were more interested in Burger King than invading city hall. Tara looked him in the eyes, waiting for him to cough up. He pulled a couple of fives out of his pocket, made a big point of showing everybody that he had put out for the food.

  “Come on, Jenn,” she said.

  They had to walk by two police officers to get to King Street. Jenn was looking away from them, but Tara tugged at her to stop.

  “I know you think we’re trouble,” Tara said to the taller cop, without a word of introduction. “But a lot of those kids haven’t had anything to eat today. We took up a collection to get some food. Would you care to chip in?”

  A blast of static came through on his walkie-talkie just then, but Tara couldn’t understand the message. The tall cop didn’t pay any attention to it. He seemed very puzzled. He looked over at his partner and didn’t say a word, but just shrugged, pulled out his wallet and handed her a ten. He elbowed his buddy, who added five dollars.

  “Thanks,” Jenn said. “That was very cool of you.”

  The cops tried to look impassive, uninvolved, but the short guy smiled and shook his head.

  It took a little too long to get all the food they needed, so Tara sent Jenn back in shifts. The feast arrived a couple of bags at a time. On the last trip back, Tara offered the police officers each a burger, but they declined.

  Everybody mellowed, for a while, except Josh. Tara had defused the fury of the crowd. There was an unspoken power struggle going on here. Who did they trust most? Josh or Tara? Their own real leader, Craig, would have put his life on the line for any kid there, but he wasn’t a talker, he wasn’t someone to stand up and give speeches.

  By early evening, people were getting edgy again. A couple of the Citadel students left, saying they had things to do. This bothered some of the street kids. Tara suspected Josh didn’t care at this point because he knew that, as soon as he worked up a little anger again, he’d have his plan back in action.

 

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