Floors #2: 3 Below

by Patrick Carman

  “We meet again,” Ms. Sparks said, just above a whisper. The chill in her voice made Mr. Carp shiver even in the hot sun. Claudius tried to climb through one of the openings between the iron bars, but his head was too big. He, too, wanted to go inside. There were small birds and rodents to be chased in there. A cat could get used to a place like this, might even stay outside all summer long, climbing the trees and sleeping in the warm sun by the pond.

  “Let me do all the talking,” Ms. Sparks warned. Her tall hairdo was casting a shadow over Mr. Carp’s face as he removed the silly hat and held it nervously in one of his grease-stained hands. Ms. Sparks loved casting intimidating shadows with her hair.

  “Do you understand?” Ms. Sparks asked, her crooked finger hovering over the call button that would, more than likely, lead to an open gate. She was worried about how Mr. Yancey would take to Mr. Carp and his awful cat. “You’re here to observe, Mr. Carp, to make it official. Nothing more. The less you talk, the better.”

  Mr. Carp seethed inside. Who did she think she was, the queen of England? But he was, to all appearances, a desperate man with no backbone. The Whippet was the answer, and Ms. Sparks the way in. All he really wanted was for her to stop glaring at him.

  And so he nodded. Of course, this is your show. I’m only here to observe.

  Ms. Sparks smiled an evil, sharp-toothed grin and pushed the gate button, which buzzed annoyingly against her finger.

  “Whippet Hotel, state your business,” a voice crackled. In the absence of Pilar and Remi and Leo, LillyAnn Pompadore had taken a break. The front desk was being manned by Captain Rickenbacker. He had no idea what he was doing and, besides, he was playing checkers with Mr. Phipps.

  “It’s Ms. Sparks. Let me in. I have business to discuss.”

  “Oh! Uhhhhhhhh,” Captain Rickenbacker said. He looked at Mr. Phipps, not knowing what to do.

  “I’m afraid you’re not allowed on the property,” Mr. Phipps answered, somewhat feebly. He had always been terrified of Ms. Sparks when she’d been in charge of the hotel.

  “Rickenbacker! And you, Phipps!” she yelled into the speaker. People who had been hovering near the gate outside began moving away, uncomfortable with where this was going. “I know it’s you two in there. Don’t deny it.”

  “No, no, we would never . . .” Mr. Phipps trailed off. Captain Rickenbacker was already halfway to the stairs on the way to his room. Like most superheroes, he preferred playing pinball to being yelled at.

  “Listen good, you two,” Ms. Sparks fumed. “Open. This. Gate. And get Mr. Yancey. Tell him to meet me in the lobby.”

  No one responded. Captain Rickenbacker had fled and Mr. Phipps was seriously contemplating an escape of his own to the garden shed.

  “OPEN THE GATE!”

  Mr. Carp tugged on Claudius’s mangled leash and started backing away quietly.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Ms. Sparks said without taking her eyes off the hotel. She waited impatiently as Claudius sat down and licked the matted fur on his right foot.

  When the gate buzzed softly, Ms. Sparks glowed with excitement. She knew that sound, knew what it meant. The gate was unlocked, and she pushed it open, stepping onto the soft grass on the other side and fixing her narrow eyes on the mysterious hotel in the distance. Her whole body tingled.

  Just you wait, Merganzer D. Whippet, she thought. Soon this will all be mine.

  “Come,” she said, waving Mr. Carp forward without looking at him. “You’ll like the room I’ve chosen for you. Much better than that cave you’ve been living in all these years.”

  Mr. Carp looked back in the direction of the crummy neighborhood they’d walked from. He could run, even leave Claudius behind if he had to. But, for many complicated reasons, he did not run. His moment had come and it would never come again. He turned and passed through the gate with Claudius leading the way. When he heard the iron clang behind him, he knew his fate was sealed.

  There would be no turning back now.

  And so it was that when Leo and Remi returned to the lobby expecting to find Ms. Pompadore, they found their old nemesis instead. Ms. Sparks had taken up residence in precisely the same place from which she’d run the hotel with an iron fist for years: behind the registration desk. She was speaking to Mr. Yancey in a small voice, like they were plotting.

  “I knew we shouldn’t have left LillyAnn Pompadore in charge,” whispered Remi from their hiding place inside the duck elevator. They’d opened the door just a crack, hoping Betty didn’t quack and give them away. “We leave for a few hours and she loses control of the hotel. Great.”

  “I’ll admit, it’s a supersized catastrophe,” Leo said. “I’m fairly speechless.”

  Leo thought of how disappointed his dad and Pilar and Merganzer would be. They’d left him in charge and the one person who could ruin everything had found her way into the hotel in less than a day. It was a disaster.

  Leo was trying to think of a plan when he heard a noise. It was soft and fuzzy at the edge of his hearing. At first he thought it was Betty, snoring quietly. But when he looked at Remi, he knew it wasn’t Betty. Remi had one of the easiest faces in the world to read. When he was hiding something, his dark eyebrows went up and the middle of his forehead crinkled. He’d heard the sound, too, and it had worried him.

  “You didn’t,” Leo said.

  Leo pulled the small duck elevator door all the way shut and stared at his brother.

  “Didn’t do what?” Remi asked, his eyebrows raising, his forehead crinkling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What if she gets loose? Then what are we going to do?” Leo asked.

  “But she won’t. I’ll make sure,” Remi said. He knew immediately he’d given himself away.

  Loopa peeked slowly out of Remi’s red jacket pocket. The little monkey had woken up. She was cute when she woke up, groggy-eyed and yawning. It was impossible not to smile.

  “I couldn’t leave her there,” Remi explained, petting the little monkey on her furry head. Loopa smiled up at him. “We bonded.”

  “Just don’t give her any Flart’s Fizz. She’d blow our cover for sure.”

  “She’ll be quiet, won’t you?” Remi said. But when Remi looked, the monkey had fallen back to sleep.

  “See? No worries,” Remi said.

  Leo wasn’t so sure, but he gently pulled the doors open again. Betty got right up close to Loopa with her orange bill and stared curiously. She was acting motherly. It was what she did.

  “Keep them both quiet,” Leo said, putting his finger to his lips. It wasn’t as if Remi could stop Betty from quacking or Loopa from making monkey sounds if they wanted to, but Leo still hoped for silence as he peered out into the lobby.

  It was hard to hear what they were saying, but he definitely heard some things that alarmed him.

  Mr. Yancey: “Who’s the new guy, and what’s with the cat?”

  Ms. Sparks: “Don’t worry about them, just be ready.”

  Mr. Yancey: “I can’t believe our luck. It’s too perfect.”

  Ms. Sparks: “Where are those boys? They make me nervous.”

  “What are they saying?” Remi whispered. He was getting tired of sitting in the cramped duck elevator and wanted to get out. Betty was looking at him like she might start quacking at any moment.

  “They’re in it together, Yancey and Ms. Sparks,” Leo explained.

  “In what together?” asked Remi.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to find out. Take Betty to the roof as fast as you can, and I’ll meet you back here. I’m getting to the bottom of this.”

  “But —”

  Remi wasn’t sure it was a great idea to talk to Ms. Sparks, but Leo was the official owner of the hotel. Technically Remi was just the bellboy and the doorman, and in this particular situation, he was glad. It was a good moment not to be responsible.

  Leo quietly opened the duck elevator door and crept out into the hall next to the lobby. The do
ors shut and Remi, Loopa, and Betty were gone, slowly rising toward the roof. Leo put on his most confident face, straightened his Whippet Hotel maintenance overalls, and started for the lobby. He passed through, toward the main doors, as if he hadn’t even noticed Ms. Sparks or Mr. Yancey.

  “Leo Fillmore,” Ms. Sparks said. Her voice was full of satisfaction, like she was enjoying the fact that she’d appeared with bad news and it would surprise him to see her.

  “Oh, hi, Ms. Sparks,” Leo said. “Did you need something? Because I’m kind of busy right at the moment.” Leo nodded in Mr. Yancey’s direction. “I hope your stay is going well, Mr. Yancey. We always appreciate your visits.”

  Ms. Sparks looked quickly back and forth between Leo and Mr. Yancey, as if she’d been momentarily stunned into silence. It didn’t last long.

  “I do have a rather pressing matter to discuss, if it’s not too much of a bother.”

  She leaned over the desk in Leo’s general direction as Mr. Yancey’s phone rang. He used it as an excuse to leave the lobby, waving at Leo indifferently as he passed by.

  “Come to think of it,” Leo said, rubbing his chin as if he’d only just remembered an important fact, “you’re banned from the hotel grounds.”

  “Oh, that.” Ms. Sparks smiled. “I don’t think it’s going to be a problem. You see, I’ve got permission.”

  “Permission from whom?” Leo walked two steps closer to Ms. Sparks. This was getting interesting, and not in a good way.

  Ms. Sparks held up a letter and began reading aloud.

  “‘By the power vested in me, I do hereby appoint Ms. Lenora Sparks the Tax Evasion Specialist for the Whippet Hotel and its associated properties. Ms. Sparks is granted state authority to oversee this matter during the twenty-four hours after the signing of this letter. During that time, she is to observe, in person, the goings-on at said property. No items of value are to be removed.’”

  There was more, but Ms. Sparks stopped reading. She felt she’d read enough to make her point.

  “It goes on, but it only gets worse.”

  Leo reached into the front pocket of his overalls feeling a little better. If this was about taxes, he’d already solved the problem. This was going to be easier than he’d thought.

  “You need seven hundred thousand dollars. I know all about it. Fortunately, I’ve already prepared the necessary payment.”

  He had no intention of letting Ms. Sparks touch the note, or even get within two feet of it. Instead, he held it out so she could see it, then yanked it back and held it tight in his hand.

  “It will be couriered directly to the proper authorities before the close of business today,” Leo continued. He thought he’d done a fine job of sounding like he knew what he was doing. In reality, he didn’t actually know who to give the note to, but he was sure Mr. Phipps would.

  “Oh, my dear boy,” said Ms. Sparks, and this time she pretended to actually care. “You’ve been misinformed. Let me guess — Merganzer left you holding the bag? You can’t trust him. I tried to warn you. He’s no good with numbers, never has been. Always misplacing those pesky zeros.”

  Leo was confused. “I don’t understand. How much do you think the Whippet Hotel owes?”

  Ms. Sparks came out from behind the desk, holding the official-looking piece of paper.

  “I don’t think, I know. It’s a very serious matter. You’re going to lose this hotel, Leo Fillmore. There’s simply no doubt about it.”

  She glanced at the contract once more, just to be sure.

  “This hotel is seven million dollars behind on its debt to the great state of New York. They have tried to reach you, but you have not answered their letters.”

  This was not entirely true. The fact was, Ms. Sparks had been intercepting the letters for many months. It was all part of her diabolical plan.

  Leo was in a daze. Seven million? Before he realized it, Ms. Sparks had come nearer and snatched the seven hundred thousand dollar note out of his hand.

  “This will do just fine as a down payment, but I’m afraid you’re still six million, three hundred thousand short. And did I mention I was given this authority eighteen hours ago? Maybe I didn’t. You’re down to six hours, Leo Fillmore. Better get cracking.”

  She leaned in so that her nose nearly touched Leo’s. Ms. Sparks could be an extremely close talker when she felt in charge.

  “I almost feel sorry for you, having to run this hotel on your own. You’ll be better off without it.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Leo said, but he was shaking. Could she really take the hotel from him, just like that?

  She stood up straight and stared down at Leo.

  “It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not, it’s true. Eighteen of your precious hours have already passed. You have six hours to come up with the rest, and we both know that’s not going to happen.”

  Leo started to back away, and then he had a thought.

  “What’s Mr. Yancey got to do with this?” he asked.

  “That’s none of your business!” she yelled. Ms. Sparks pocketed the seven hundred thousand dollar note and brushed a duck feather off her shoulder with a sour face. “And when I own this hotel, there will be no ducks. I won’t be running a zoo with monkeys and birds and who knows what else!”

  Ms. Sparks didn’t know how right she was.

  “Stay close by in case I need you,” she went on. “And don’t even think about leaving the hotel. I’ve assigned a guardian for you, since your parents are gone and everyone else in this hotel is stark raving mad!”

  “A guardian?”

  “He’s waiting for you in that hovel you call a room. He’s not to let you out of his sight. It’s one thing — the only thing — he happens to be good at. He knows how to keep track of someone when the need arises.”

  Leo didn’t like the sound of a guardian one bit, especially one who had a weird super-ability to keep an eye on people. It would greatly complicate things if he and Remi were to make it back under the hotel and find the gear Merganzer needed. He hadn’t counted on all this trouble and wished his dad were there to help him.

  Remi hadn’t returned in the duck waiter when Leo passed by, and he needed to get Blop from the basement room. The world felt like it was falling apart as he walked the steps down to the basement door.

  “Ew,” he said, crinkling his nose. He hadn’t even gone inside and already he could smell Claudius. When he entered the basement, it reeked of wet cat fur. A small, unhappy-looking man was sitting on his bed holding a wadded-up cat leash in his hand. His skin was pale, he had a thick, drooping mustache, and there were large bags under his eyes. There was a frailness about him, like a soft summer breeze might knock him over.

  “You must be the guardian,” Leo said. Mr. Carp was staring at the call center wall where Daisy, the mechanical shark who delivered commands from the hotel guests, was quietly resting.

  “Claudius doesn’t like your shark,” Mr. Carp said. “It makes him nervous.”

  “If it’s any consolation, Daisy makes me nervous, too. You never know when she’s going to wake up and deliver bad news.”

  “I see,” Mr. Carp said. The cat meowed and rubbed up against Leo’s leg, leaving a trail of fur behind on his overalls.

  “I’m Mr. Carp. And this is Claudius,” Mr. Carp said, pointing down at the cat.

  “I see,” Leo said, for he had no idea what else to say.

  “She asked me to keep an eye on you and the other one — Remi, is it? You’ll need to stay close by.”

  “What happens if we don’t?” Leo asked, uncertain how much power Mr. Carp actually had.

  Mr. Carp shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t really care.

  “Will it be all right if I use the extra bunk while I’m visiting?” Mr. Carp asked, looking at Clarence Fillmore’s empty bed. “I think this is what Ms. Sparks had in mind. It’s very nice down here. Much nicer than my apartment.”

  The basement was cozy for a maintenance man and his son, w
ith its glugging water heater and hotel parts everywhere, but it was by any reasonable standard a crummy place for a normal person to live. Leo could only imagine what sort of place Mr. Carp rented.

  “You can stay — just don’t touch anything,” Leo said. He felt sorry for Mr. Carp, but at the same time, he was feeling a little better about things. There was no way this guardian would be able to keep track of Leo and Remi. Things were looking up.

  Mr. Carp reclined on Leo’s dad’s bed and Claudius jumped up next to him. This, Leo knew, meant he’d have to burn the bedding when the cat was gone.

  “Remember, no leaving the hotel,” Mr. Carp said, and then he closed his eyes. Leo didn’t move for a full minute, during which Mr. Carp began to snore lightly and Claudius coughed up a hairball that landed with a wet sound on the concrete floor.

  “Pssssst!”

  Remi had entered the basement and stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding his nose. Loopa was sitting on Remi’s shoulder, digging a monkey finger into Remi’s ear.

  “Shhhh,” Leo whispered as quietly as he could. He walked to his bed, got down on his knees, and fished his hand around in search of Blop. A moment later, he and Remi were standing together at the door, the little robot safely deposited in Remi’s red jacket.

  “That monkey is going to be trouble,” Leo said as he watched it run up and down the entire length of Remi’s body.

  “Yeah, she definitely woke up,” Remi said. “At least she’s quiet.”

  Loopa was an especially quiet monkey, but as Leo watched her leap off of Remi’s shoulder and land on the floor, he could see it was going to be difficult to control her.

  “Who’s the smelly dude?” Remi whispered as he picked up Loopa and put her back in his pocket. He had Blop, who was still sleeping, in one pocket, and Loopa in the other. Leo rolled his eyes and started up the stairs, grabbing Remi by the arm and dragging him out of the room. In seconds they were near the lobby, which Ms. Sparks appeared to have left.