Black Hotel

by Renee Wakefield

  Jack did his best to concentrate and follow Hector but found himself continually distracted. Those pictures kept drawing him in. The history of the hotel documented on the walls. And they were fascinating. Old fashioned looking guests with parasols and beaten up old suitcases. People posing outside the hotel, standing alongside very early model cars. If Hector minded Jack taking his time he didn’t show it.

  ‘Why did you ask? About trains?’

  ‘You look like the type.’

  ‘What type?’

  ‘The type who likes trains.’

  Jack wasn’t sure what he meant. Should feel insulted?

  Hector pointed out a more modern photo. The image was still old but in colour. It showed the lobby full of train enthusiasts, many wearing engineers’ hats. A banner above them read "Model Railway Association Expo, 1984". Jack examined the happy faces smiling back at him.

  ‘There is a model train place around the corner. They have an Expo each year. The guests generally stay here.’ Hector wandered away. ‘Although, that’s dying. Like everything else.’

  Jack continued to stare at the photo, trying to spot the correlation to himself.

  ‘So, all the guest rooms and stuff are up here.’

  Jack trailed behind Hector, fighting the urge to stop and look at every little thing he passed. The hotel was so cool. Not only the images on the wall. Very little appeared to have changed since the hotel had been first built, the whole thing maintaining its Gothic aesthetic. Jack adjusted his little bellhop hat and hurried to keep up.

  ‘That’s about all for upstairs.’

  As they headed towards the stairs, Jack slowed to a halt. A strange sensation washed over him. He glanced back. The space didn’t appear to be anything unusual. A typical hotel corridor. Numbered doors leading to the various rooms. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  And yet…

  ‘Jack?’

  ‘I must have stayed here as a kid or something.’ Jack gazed about. They were standing directly outside Room 8. He tried to find a way to express what he felt in words. ‘This place is so… ‘ He searched for the appropriate word. ‘Familiar?’ That wasn’t it.

  Jack followed Hector down the Grand Staircase.

  ‘So, how long have you worked here?’ Jack asked, doing his best to be friendly.

  ‘Too long.’

  ‘Why too long?’

  Hector stopped, turning to face him. ‘Look, buddy. You seem like a nice enough guy. I’ll tell you what, if you’re still here in a week, we can have the whole "let’s get to know each other" chat.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be here in a week?’

  ‘You never are.’

  ‘I never am?’

  ‘Nightshift workers. Do you know how many times I’ve had to give the tour? Had this little chat?’

  ‘Five times?’

  ‘It was a rhetorical question. Many times.’

  ‘Why do you keep having to give it?’

  ‘No one ever lasts. The night shift workers all have a habit of disappearing.’

  ‘Disappearing? That sounds ominous.’ But Hector was already onto the next part of the tour.

  8

  That’s it

  Descending the Grand Staircase utterly distracted Jack from the thought of disappearing nightshift workers. The staircase was magnificent. Beautifully maintained dark wooden banisters. Sumptuous, thick carpet that stretched on throughout the lobby. Black Hotel was full of grand spaces which had no other purpose other than being grand. Take the lobby. The lobby was huge, with the reception booth on one side, facing out over the impressive area. Across the far side was a seating area with dark leather couches. And in the middle, nothing but a vast expanse.

  Jack positioned himself directly in the middle and twirled about slowly.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Attempting to take the whole thing in at once.’ Jack continued his slow twirl. ‘Wow, I love this use of space. Old buildings have such good use of space. It’s almost opulent.’

  ‘Opulent?’

  ‘Old buildings use space differently, you know? These days it’s all economic rationalism. Economic rationalism of space.’

  ‘Buildings are much bigger now.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s different. They use space differently somehow. Nowadays every inch has to be accounted for. Utilised.’

  A look of bemusement settled on Hector’s face. ‘Most people are generally bitching about how they are supposed to stay all night with no WiFi, not spinning about and appreciating the opulence of the space.’

  ‘This is just so… grand.’

  ‘Alright, twirly-boy.’ Hector led Jack over to the reception booth. ‘This is your domain.’

  Jack adored it. So much character. The booth contained an impressive desk. Immediately behind that sat an enormous board with all the room keys on hooks. Old-fashioned proper chunky keys secured to large room-identifying keychains.

  "I love it. All the keys and everything. ‘

  ‘Well, that’s how we get into the rooms.’

  Jack entered the booth and stood behind the desk, appreciating every inch. Very cool. He felt like the bellhop character in a pulp fiction noir. He could see himself getting to know the motley crew of hotel regulars. Learning their names and little bits about their lives. Handing out the keys. Turning a blind eye to their crimes and their struggles with the bottle.

  A leather-bound registration book covered a large part of the desk.

  ‘No computer?’

  Hector shook his head ‘Miss Daniels likes the old ways.’

  ‘That’s good. Easier not to have to get to know a whole new computer system.’

  From a quick glance, the registration book appeared reasonably self-explanatory. Did he get to choose the guests’ rooms? He would like to have that power. Favour the good people the good rooms. Were guests required to pay a deposit? Surely the hotel was up-to-date enough to accept credit cards. He bet there was a cool safe somewhere. So many questions. He was confident Hector would explain it all to him, until…

  ‘Right. I guess that’s about it.’

  With surprise, Jack realised Hector intended to leave ‘Wait. What am I supposed to be doing?’

  ‘Stand there for a sec.’

  Jack stood in the reception booth waiting. Nothing happened.

  ‘That it.’

  ‘No, I mean, what do I do?’

  ‘You’re doing it.’ A confused look creased through Jack’s brow. ‘You stand there. Or sit. You are welcome to sit.’

  ‘No, but… I mean… what if a guest wants to check in? How do I …’ He indicated to the registration book.

  ‘Won’t happen.’

  ‘Someone might show up…’

  ‘Nup.’

  ‘They could.’

  Hector shook his head. ‘I can’t remember the last time we had a walk-in. At least a few years. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  ‘Wait,’ Jack blurted out hurriedly. ‘What if one of the guests comes down and wants something?’

  ‘Be a surprise. We don’t have any guests.’

  ‘What do you mean "we don’t have any guests"?’

  ‘There are no guests at the hotel.’

  The overwhelming quietness of the building immediately made more sense. ‘No guests… Isn’t that odd?’

  ‘Possibly. But it’s not unusual. We haven’t had any guests for six months.’

  ‘How does the hotel make any money?’

  ‘It doesn’t.’

  Jack contemplated this. It kind of felt like a joke, a joke he wasn’t getting. ‘So, if there are no guests, then what do I do?’

  ‘You’re doing it.’

  ‘No, but… why am I here?’

  ‘In a philosophical sense? As in, one of life’s great questions? What’s the meaning of life? What’s it all about? Why am I here?’

  Jack watched a smirk crawl across Hector’s lips as he messed with him. Jack phrased his response carefully, in an attempt to avoid any linguis
tic trap.

  ‘No. As in why am I employed to stand behind a desk at a hotel where there are no guests?’

  ‘Well, you’re like the rest of the hotel. You’re mostly here for show. You’re here on the very slim chance someone walks in off the street and wants a room.’

  ‘But you said you can’t remember the last time that happened.’

  Hector nodded sympathetically.

  The cogs turned slowly turned in Jack’s brain. ‘So, there’s nothing to do? I just sit here?’

  ‘‘Fraid so.’

  There was no way to contain the broad smile that exploded across Jack’s face. ‘Sounds fantastic!!’

  Moments later Jack was all alone and in his element. He attempted to absorb it all. The old school glamour. The lush patterned carpets. The beautiful high ceilings and wood finishes. He crossed to the seating area, running a hand over the back of the firm leather couch. He considered taking a —

  BRRRRR!!

  An ear-shattering buzz shook the hotel to its foundations. He spun about.

  ‘Forgot to mention.’ Hector said, appearing at the main doors. ‘That noise? That’s the night bell. For walk-ins.’

  ‘For walk-ins that will never come?’

  ‘That’s the ones.’

  ‘Why’s it so loud?’

  ‘We turn it down when there are guests in the hotel. But when the hotel is empty, we have it up loud in case you’re elsewhere in the building. Or asleep at the desk.’

  Jack’s eyes lit up again. ‘I’m allowed to sleep on the job?’

  Hector nodded, chuckling at his new co-worker.

  As it turned out Jack didn’t take the opportunity to sleep, even though it was nice to have sleep as an option. That first night, he mostly just sat in awe of the amazing space. Enjoying the hotel. Drinking in the ambience. But why were there were no guests? Who wouldn’t want to stay in a glorious old place like this?

  The hours passed surprisingly quickly and before Jack knew it early morning sunshine streamed into the lobby and Hector stood in front of him once more.

  ‘Still here.’

  Hector frowned, not understanding.

  ‘As in, I haven’t disappeared yet.’

  Hector nodded. ‘We’ll see.’

  Jack was determined to make it at least through the first week to prove Hector was wrong. Show he was a stayer. And it would be easy. The job was great.

  9

  Squeaks and Strange People

  Jack found sleeping during the day somewhat difficult after that first shift. It made sense. Working nights required making a fairly dramatic change to his body clock. Jack classified himself as a night person and generally gravitated towards late nights and late mornings. He hated getting up early, especially so he could arrive at a job by 8 or 9am. Still staying up late and binging on TV was different to staying awake all night, every night. It would take his body some time to adjust.

  So it was with little sleep Jack fronted up for his second shift both eager and determined to appear eager to Hector.

  With the hotel to himself once more Jack set about exploring. Black Hotel would probably be classified as a ‘boutique’ hotel he decided, although it would have been constructed long before that term had been coined. Despite the size of some of the ground floor rooms, the hotel wasn’t nearly big enough to get lost in.

  Upstairs housed all the guest bedrooms.

  The ground floor consisted of the large lobby, reception booth, Grand Staircase and lounge, all one area. Leading off the lobby, Jack found a large dining area complete with long bar and an appropriately sized adjoining kitchen.

  Behind the dining area, a corridor led to several offices and small rooms, all of which were locked.

  A door near the couches on the far side of the lobby hid a rickety staircase down to a shadowy basement, filled with disused furniture and general junk. So filled in fact that the piles of discarded wooden tables and chairs almost reached the ceiling and there was very little room to move beyond the foot of the stairs.

  And that was about it for the lower levels.

  Jack also stumbled across a rear entrance which opened out onto the hotel’s dumpsters. This almost resulted in a very embarrassing situation. So taken was Jack with his exploring that he almost wandered too far, not realising the door self-closed. It was difficult to guess what would have been worse, accidentally locking himself out of the hotel for the evening or having to tell Hector in the morning.

  As Jack climbed the Grand Staircase mild jubilation filled his heart. An excitement that he had found Black Hotel. His place. Finally, a job he wanted. But it was more than that. This was the job he was meant to have. As though the hotel wanted him too. Black Hotel felt right. At the top of the stairs, he peered out over his domain. The lobby and the reception booth. Jack raised his arms in triumph. Like Rocky.

  ‘I’m king of the world!!’ he cried out to no one in particular, before realising he was mixing up his movies. What did Rocky say when he reached the top of the steps? He couldn’t remember. Maybe nothing. Maybe it was only the inspirational music. Jack started humming "Eye of the Tiger", but that wasn’t right either. Wrong Rocky. Might be time for a Rocky marathon with Merch.

  Shuffling back down the stairs, Jack pondered what to do next. His night was young. How long it would take before he got to the point of needing to binge on TV to occupy himself? The hotel not having Wi-Fi wasn’t a problem. Jack could dip into his extensive DVD collection and bring in his old laptop to watch them on. Maybe he could rewatch The Wire. All five seasons. Or Battlestar Galactica or Alias. He wasn’t there yet, however. No hurry to introduce television into the mix. The thought of TV was a nice backup though, for some point down the line.

  The quiet of the lobby surrounded him. He closed his eyes. A tremendous sense of calm and peacefulness washed over him. Nothing to do, nowhere to be. He stood very still. One with the hotel. And in the quiet Jack became aware of a small sound. A sound he hadn’t noticed before. A very soft squeak. Barely audible at first, the sound repeated. Repetitive, yet no exact pattern to it.

  Jack positioned himself in the centre of the room in an attempt to focus on the sound. He followed his ears. The squeak had a timidness about it, something he feared he might scare off if he wasn’t careful.

  Slowly revolving on the spot, Jack’s eyes searched everywhere for the source of the squeaking. He half expected to spy a mouse. If there was a rodent, it was good at eluding him. Jack continued looking around and around, turning in circles until he was well and truly dizzy. He couldn’t see anything that might be producing the sound. Maybe the noise was coming from the hotel pipes or something. Did pipes squeak? While he recovered from the twirling, the noise disappeared.

  As much as Jack liked his new job something still bugged him. Not quite adding up. Where were the guests? He kept waiting for a walk-in, but true to Hector’s word none eventuated. And if there were never any guests, what was the hotel still doing here?

  The next morning things became even less clear. About 8 a.m. a person showed up, letting himself into the hotel. A man in a chef’s outfit. Jack waited for the man to explain himself but he didn’t. He merely gave Jack a cursory nod and headed for the kitchen. Should Jack have challenged him? Asked what he was doing here? He had opened his mouth to say something but missed his moment.

  Shortly after a woman arrived, also dressed as a chef. She at least smiled and said hello, yet made no attempt to explain herself. She was followed by a maid.

  Finally, Hector hurried in, appearing slightly frazzled. ‘Sorry I am late. Crazy morning. How was your shift?’

  ‘All good. Hey, some weird people have been arriving.’

  ‘Weird people?’

  ‘A couple of chefs and a maid.’

  Hector chuckled. ‘They’re not weird people. They probably think you’re a weird person…’

  ‘Who are they?’

  ‘Day staff.’ As though it were the most natural thing in the world.

  ‘
Day staff? For a hotel … with no guests?’

  Hector shrugged.

  ‘I don’t get it. There are never any guests?’

  ‘No, we have guests, like I said when the Expo is on and whatever. Just not that often.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Location, location, location. The hotel isn’t in a great position. Look around. There’s nothing out here except factories. There’s no reason for people to stay here.’

  ‘So, what’s it doing still open?’

  ‘Follow me.’ Hector crossed the lobby leading Jack to an impressively large portrait of a man sitting on a horse. ‘This is Colonel Black. He built the hotel.’ Colonel Black snarled down at Jack. He didn’t look like a man to be trifled with. ‘Miss Daniels is Colonel Black’s great-granddaughter. She owns the hotel now. You’ll probably meet her at some stage, she comes and goes a bit.’

  Jack made a mental note: ‘Miss Daniels.’

  ‘Miss Daniels is getting pretty old now.’

  ‘Old as in she’s lost her marbles?’

  Hector laughed. ‘Nope. She’s sharper than ever. I wouldn’t advise tussling with her.’

  ‘So, this Miss Daniels owns the hotel and wants to keep it open, even though there are rarely any guests.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I never studied economics at school —’

  ‘There’s a shock.’

  ‘But a hotel has to have guests to make money.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘So, how does this hotel make any money?’

  ‘It doesn’t.’

  ‘But … a hotel is a business. Businesses have to make money.’

  ‘Not this business. Miss Daniels already has money. It means more to her to keep the hotel open.’

  ‘So the hotel stays empty. And with a full staff.’

  ‘Yep. That’s pretty much the way things are.’

  Hector wandered away, as though the matter had been settled. Jack though remained perplexed.

  10