Black Hotel

by Renee Wakefield

Zoo with no animals

  ‘Isn’t that like a zoo with no animals?’ Merch asked.

  They were hanging over the fence at Speed Demons, the local go-kart track. The whir of the engines swirled around them as Jack and Merch waited for their turn, watching the karts zoom about the track. The race was a monthly tradition between the two friends. 20 laps to decide the champion of the universe.

  ‘I guess so. Night, it’s just me. During the day they have a full staff.’

  ‘That’s weird, buddy. A whole bunch of people getting paid to do nothing? Gotta be some kind of scam…’

  ‘Maybe. But it’s great for me though. It’s like I’m a king and I’ve got this kickass castle.’

  ‘You look like a king too, in your little bellhop uniform. What do you do there all night?’

  ‘Nothing. That’s the whole point. I tell you I think I really lucked out this time.’

  ‘Lucked out? I thought you liked the job.’

  ‘I do. I love it. Lucked out is the good one. ‘

  Merch furrowed his brow. ‘Really? That makes no sense. If you’re out of luck, that’s bad.’

  ‘Well, I guess "lucked out" is the opposite of that. Whatever, I reckon I’ve found the perfect employment. Every job I’ve ever had I’ve had to avoid work while trying to look busy. It’s exhausting.’ The karts roared past again.

  ‘Pretending to work the whole time is harder than actually working. ‘

  ‘Exactly.’ Jack’s eyes followed his vehicle of choice. Lucky number eight.

  ‘Maybe you could try actually working some time. It’s much easier.’

  ‘How would you know? My point is… This job, there is no work. Plus there’s no one watching me. I can do whatever the heck I want.’

  For Jack, doing whatever the heck he wanted had thus far primarily involved an endless series of little games to keep himself amused. He stood under Colonel Black’s portrait and imitated it, although that got old fairly quickly.

  He hung out in the dining room, slipping around in his socks on the polished parquetry floorboards. This was especially fun. With a good run up he managed to get up a good deal of speed and excellent sliding range. Once he had so much speed, he crashed into the far wall.

  After that, he balled his socks off together and played sock-football in the lobby. That had been especially fun too. He managed to kick the winning goal in the Grand Final. The crowd had gone wild.

  ‘Isn’t it odd being there on your own?’ Merch asked.

  ‘Nah.’ He thought about it. ‘Well…’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It’s all good, except there is this one specific spot in the hotel.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just outside Room 8 freaks me out for some reason. Like, I roam about, for the sake of roaming and when I find myself upstairs, outside this particular room, Room 8, I get this weird feeling. It’s like I’m not alone or I am being watched or something. Or that there is a figure, hiding in the shadows, observing me.’

  ‘Is there?’

  ‘Not that I have been able to see. I know there is no one there. There can’t be, and yet I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. But it is more than that. It is a whole unsettled thing. I can’t really articulate it. The weird thing is, it is only in this one spot in the hotel.’

  ‘Odd.’

  ‘Apart from that, it is all great.’

  Jack and Merch strode towards the go-karts, ready for their turn. The group of overexcited 10-year-olds slowly disembarked, forcing Jack and Merch wait a while longer.

  ‘It’s all fun and games until you get bored.’

  Jack and Merch strapped on their helmets.

  ‘Bored? There’s like a million things I can do. I can finally catch up on my reading. Or I might write a book. Mostly I go and hang out. Just me and this amazing hotel, where I can do whatever I want. Then the night’s over, and I’ve got my whole day to myself.’

  In reality, Jack hadn’t done anything like reading or writing his first few shifts. He played. And when he had had enough of that, he napped at his desk, waking fresh and rejuvenated when Hector arrived to relieve him. That didn’t mean reading and writing wasn’t a good idea, he simply hadn’t got to there yet. He had plenty of time.

  They stepped into their karts and strapped themselves to the seats.

  ‘Whatever. You’ll get bored.’

  Jack ignore him. He wasn’t too fussed what Merch thought. Somehow he had found a great job. And he was about to beat Merch at go-karting too. Life was good. He had employment he liked, and he would be this month’s champion of the universe. He revved his engine aggressively, ready to race.

  After karting, Jack took his mum to the supermarket. Shopping was a ritual the two of them engaged in every few weeks. Nothing special, just groceries. She was perfectly capable of taking herself shopping, or she could have relied on The Community if necessary. He hadn’t asked, but Jack felt sure The Community would have some sort of shopping system. For Jack, taking his mother to the shops was a reasonably low effort mother and son time. However shopping did involve driving. Since neither Jack nor his Mum owned a car, the trip meant borrowing Merch’s car. Luckily Merch didn’t mind.

  ‘This one will apparently make my floor shine.’

  They were in the cleaning aisle. Jack leant against the trolley in the aisle, waiting patiently for his mother to make her choices. She was holding two similar looking bottles of detergent.

  ‘Do I really want shining lino?’

  A thought niggled at Jack. He really should have informed his mum about his new job by now. It wasn’t a conversation he was bursting to have. He had promised himself he would mention the job during the car ride on the way over here and yet here they were in the supermarket and he hadn’t brought it up yet. A slight hint of nervousness frayed at his stomach. It was ridiculous. He was a grown man. He should be able to tell his mother he had got a new job. Maybe the news could wait a bit longer.

  They wandered back to the car located in the underground car park. Loading the car with the shopping bags seemed like as good a time as any to broach the subject. His mother had found several bargains and seemed quite pleased with the shopping trip. There was no point putting it off any longer.

  ‘So, I got a new job.’

  Jack’s mother rolled her eyes.

  ‘I’m the night manager of a prestigious hotel.’

  ‘Right.’ Jack’s mum started shoving the bags in the boot with a touch more vigour than necessary.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she lied.

  ‘You’re supposed to be happy for me.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what I am supposed to be. Why should I be happy for you? Happy you quit yet another job?’

  Jack struggled to keep his voice even and stay calm. ‘I got a new job. What, you want me folding paper for the rest of my life?’

  ‘No one forced you to get a job folding paper.’

  ‘But you want me to stay there for eternity?’

  ‘Continuity is important. You’re never going to get promoted if you keep changing jobs.’

  ‘There was nowhere to get promoted to at the factory.’

  ‘Oh, there were no managers, no bosses? Nobody in charge of you?’

  ‘Of course, there was. But I don’t want to work for five years and end up with their jobs.’

  ‘Well, maybe if you started five years ago and actually stuck something out.’ She slammed the boot of the little hatchback shut. ‘You’re always starting over, it means you’re always at the bottom. You change jobs more than you change your underwear.’

  Jack pouted angrily. He returned the trolley as slowly as he could before trudging back to the car.

  An angry silence hung over their trip home. Jack drove the car out of the car park, waiting for a chance to turn onto the main road. No room. Middle of the day traffic. There always seemed to be traffic now, any time of the day or night. The city was over-crowded. Jack had
never been particularly fond of driving. Well, other than go-kart driving and that was different. He viewed regular driving as an occasionally necessary evil. Generally, he felt more happy walking or on public transport. Others probably saw him as slow and overly cautious behind the wheel, which he was. So what? He was more than happy to drive like that. Trouble was he couldn’t control how everyone else on the roads drove. They were the ones the ones that made driving a trial.

  ‘All right,’ his Mum huffed. ‘Tell me about his hotel.’

  ‘No.’

  Finally, there was a big enough gap for him to be able to ease into the traffic. Merch’s little hatchback puttered along. He had been more than happy to discuss things civilly with his Mother. She was the one who wanted to argue.

  After a few moments, he relented sulkily. ‘It’s called Black Hotel.’

  ‘Never heard of it.’

  ‘It’s this beautiful old Gothic building, like 100 years —’

  ‘And what exactly does being a night manager entail? Taking care of the guests’ needs?’

  How honest should he be? He didn’t want to lie to his mother. ‘I imagine so.’

  ‘You imagine so? Haven’t you started yet?’

  ‘No, I have started. It’s just…’

  ‘It’s just what?’

  ‘Well, it’s hard to know exactly what the job will be like with guests.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘As yet, there currently aren’t any.’

  ‘Aren’t any what?’

  ‘Guests. At Black Hotel.’

  ‘What do you mean when there are guests?’

  ‘Just what I said. Currently, there aren’t any guests at the hotel.’

  ‘No guests? Well, that sounds promising. No wonder you quit your other job.’

  Her sarcastic tone niggled at Jack. Memories of a lifetime of pointless arguments. He drove a bit quicker, attempting to get this shopping trip over as swiftly as he could.

  ‘So, what do you do at this hotel? Sit on your backside all night? What happens when you get bored?’

  ‘I’m not going to get bored.’

  ‘You always get bored.’

  ‘I won’t. There is a million things to do… ‘

  ‘Name one.’

  ‘I can catch up on my reading.’

  ‘Okay, that’s one. What are the other nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine?’

  Jack didn’t bother to respond. He pondered dropping her off right there. Pulling over, tossing her out. With her shopping. She’d find her way back to The Community. Plus it would give her plenty to talk about. Probably wasn’t the ideal way for a son to behave though.

  His Mum launched into a variation of her well-worn spiel about jobs and security and Jack not getting any younger. He did his best to ignore her. Why couldn’t she leave him be? He’d found a job he liked. Just let him be happy.

  11

  Brownie

  Jack wandered towards Black Hotel, caught up in his own world. He was running early for his shift, having mistimed the journey in. The streets around the hotel were reasonably quiet as usual. Some vehicles but very few pedestrians. Looking around it was clear why the hotel had no guests. There wasn’t a whole lot out here. Not even old warehouses turned into trendy apartments. Just dull places of business.

  As he neared the hotel Jack slowed, spying a car parked out front. He could make out a woman in the front seat. The closer he got the clearer it became the woman was watching the hotel.

  The woman glanced up, noticing Jack. Even from a distance, the woman looked fiery. A Latino with a shock of dark hair and prominent cheekbones. She eyeballed him, then smiled and waved, beckoning him over. Jack stood awkwardly not sure how to proceed. What was his obligation here? Did he have to go talk to her? Should he go over just because she wanted him to? He had no idea who this woman was. He looked about. What was she doing out here? Why would anyone be watching the hotel? Something about her gave Jack the impression of a cop on a stakeout. No sign of a partner though. And too obvious to be a stakeout. Sitting right there it out in front of the hotel.

  The woman beckoned him over again, encouraging Jack with her eyes. What if she was a cop? He didn’t want any trouble. Jack figured he probably didn’t have much choice. The woman’s smile became even broader as he approached.

  ‘Hi. Are you Jack?’ she enquired in a snappy, no-nonsense manner.

  He nodded.

  ‘Hi, Jack. Maria.’

  Maria stuck a hand out the driver’s side window to shake. Jack noticed the woman was heavily pregnant. About ready to pop pregnant. Jack thought back over all the movies he had seen. He couldn’t remember a pregnant cop in any stakeout films. There weren’t many pregnant cop movies at all. Except Fargo. There had to be others. Merch would know. He made a mental note to ask him in the morning.

  ‘Here.’ Maria passed Jack a plastic container through the open driver’s side window. ‘This for you.’

  His voice emerged uncertainly and more like a question. ‘Thank you?’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Please don’t leave.’

  Jack waited for some sort of further explanation. Evidently, that was it though. Maria smiled but didn’t say anything else. What was in the container? Would it be rude to open it right here? Or rude not to? He gave Maria a half nod, tucking the container under one arm.

  Jack entered the hotel not sure what to make of the woman. A quick glance back told Jack she hadn’t moved. Was she planning to stay there all night? As soon as he was out of sight, he opened the container. Inside was a delicious looking brownie slice. Rich and gooey. Clearly home-made.

  Jack found Hector. ‘There’s some woman staking out the hotel.’

  ‘Staking out?’

  ‘Well, parked.’ Jack held up the container. ‘She gave me brownie.’

  ‘What?! That’s not fair. I want brownie. I bet there’s none for me.’ Hector went over to the doors and looked out.

  ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘Yes, of course I know her.’ Hector smiled and waved to the woman in the car. ‘That’s my wife, Maria.’ He came back over to Jack. ‘What did you think? There was just some random person outside, giving out brownie?’

  ‘Ahhh, I wasn’t sure.’

  ‘Hey, you want to come out and meet her properly? She really likes you, man.’

  ‘Your wife really likes me?’

  ‘She’s a big fan.’

  ‘A big fan?’

  ‘Yeah, she thinks you’re great.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘As long as you’re working, I don’t have to do the night shift, so I’m home.’

  ‘What’s she doing watching the hotel?’

  ‘She’s not watching the hotel. She’s here to pick me up.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Makes sense.’

  ‘Why? What did you think?’

  Jack said nothing.

  ‘Go on, tell me.’

  ‘I thought maybe she was a cop. On a stakeout or something.’

  Hector chuckled. ‘A cop, on a stakeout, but sitting right in front of the door and handing out brownie?’

  ‘I guess it was a little far-fetched.’

  Jack decided it best to sample a piece of the brownie if for no other reason than to propel the conversation in a different direction. Plus, you know, it was brownie. The little pieces of slice tasted as good as they looked. Maybe better. Jack decided it probably wise to ration the slice so it wouldn’t disappear too quickly. ‘I’ll just eat three now,’ he thought. With a mouthful of delicious brownie and crumbs littering his chin he watched the last remaining day staff pack up and leave for the night.

  ‘Hey, Hector. Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Are you scamming this old lady?’ He watched Hector chuckle again. Hector seemed to chuckle a lot at Jack. ‘Why is that funny?’

  ‘Just the idea anyone could scan Miss Daniels.’

  ‘She’s an old lady. We are all getting paid to
do nothing.’

  ‘Maybe she’s scamming us.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Maria’s waiting. Enjoy your brownie.’ Hector left him to it.

  12

  Interfering With The Results

  By the sixth piece of brownie, Jack decided the slice was quite rich, and he maybe should hold off on it for a while. Trouble was baked treats were his weakness. Admittedly only one of many weaknesses, but a weakness nonetheless. He shut the plastic container and put it on the floor under the desk so it would be out of his eyesight. The hope was that keeping the brownie out of sight would make him forget about it.

  Time for a roam. He was confident he knew the hotel reasonably well by this point; at least the rooms that weren’t locked. He still found great pleasure in simply wandering around and taking it all in.

  One of Jack’s favourite things about the hotel was the way it made him feel. Not necessarily a sense of well-being or happiness, although the hotel did fill him with joy. It was more the indefinable sense of excitement like the way Jack felt when he first laid eyes on the hotel. The sense of being drawn inside. That feeling was still strong. The hotel had a powerful sense of significance. That was about the best Jack could put it into words. The suggestion that he was there for a reason. A purpose. That was something he would never be able to articulate properly to his Mother. It didn’t matter. His Mother would never understand anyway.

  Jack set himself the task of finding out if anywhere else gave him odd sensations like he experienced outside Room 8. The downstairs basement area, used for storage, had a slight chill to it, which made sense. That was different. Just a cold space. Nothing like the upstairs corridor which continued to fill Jack with … a sense of concern. It was more than merely the sensation of being watched. The more he analysed the feeling, the more he decided it was not dissimilar to a panic attack. His chest hurt, his heart beat double time and an unsettled worry festered way down in the pit of his stomach. The strange part was how precisely localised the feeling was. Not simply to upstairs, the feeling occurred in that very specific area directly outside Room 8. Only to completely dissipate as soon as Jack headed back down the Grand Staircase.