Prolog
Life does not play by the rules and sometimes life will hit you from behind with a sucker punch. Hey Ken, your wife is having an affair! I can still hear it ringing in my ears as I try to pull myself up by the ropes, knees still shaky from the blow. Afraid of risking another disappointment. Afraid of risking another broken heart. Afraid I might just throw in the towel.
Kenneth Gilbert, that’s me, was a skeptic about most things, especially spirituality and the supernatural. I was brought up in a strict southern Baptist home so my views on the afterlife were shaped at an early age. As an adult, I’m not so sure that training was accurate. I still believe in a higher power but just like I am not concerned we with individual ants on an anthill; I’m not convinced that a higher power would be concerned with individual human lives. I am more interested in what we leave behind, so I sell insurance. Much like a preacher, a successful insurance salesman must be able to convince people to buy into something they’re not convinced they need. In the end, anyone who reads this story should understand why I am no longer a skeptic. What I experienced a few months ago was the biggest sucker punch of them all.
Five years ago, my wife Amy and I decided to call it quits after twenty years of marriage. In the end, we were both very unhappy. To cope, I crawled into a bottle of pain killers and Amy took refuge at the bottom of a vodka bottle. At first the breakup was amicable, both of us just seeking a release, then suddenly we started fighting over the smallest things. We fought over our things like we were children fighting over their favorite toys. Eventually, exhausted from the fight, I waved the white flag. I left my home with a single suitcase of clothes, my Jeep, a few favorite compact discs, and my faithful dog Tim.
I don’t know why, maybe it was because we were the only two males in the family, but it was clear from the start that Tim was my dog. If I was around, the golden retriever was sitting on the couch next to me or sleeping at my feet. When I left, Tim followed me out the door and into the Jeep without hesitation. The reality was, Tim just thought we were going for a ride, and riding was one of Tim’s favorite things. Little did he know, he would never see Amy again.
Amy and I were blessed with two children, both girls. Heather the oldest by two years, and Jasmine the baby, are both in college. Both had decided to attend the University of Arkansas, in Fayetteville. Jasmine was a follower so it was easy enough to see why she had picked this college. Heather on the other hand had wanted to be a Razorback as long as I can remember. To this day, I don’t know how she got introduced to the Razorbacks, but Fayetteville was only a day’s drive for either Amy or Myself, so we heartily approved of her choice. The girls never expressed it but I think they were happy for Amy and me. They had seen the sadness creep up on us like a dark shadow. Unhappy people are like a virus and tend to infect those around them. Thank god, the girls were immune to this disease. They were starting their own lives and I’m sure, like many children of dysfunction, they vowed to never be like their parents.
I might have left you wondering about the pain killers, so I offer this quick explanation. Fifteen years ago, while moving a sleeper sofa up the stairs of our new house, the sofa suddenly opened and knocked me over the railing and down to the first floor. The fall left me with an injured back, not broken, but still requiring surgery to correct the damage. I was never the same after that and was left with persistent pain in my lower back. I had been prescribed several different pain killers over the next fifteen years, finally I decided Vicodin worked the best. It did not take away the pain entirely, but it reduced the pain to a dull ache. During the last few months my marriage, I started taking more medication than prescribed. At first it was just a half of a pill, but with each new self-prescribed dose, I found it harder to get the same effect. Eventually, instead of one pill as needed, I was taking three to four pills every day. I was obviously abusing this drug but I had good insurance so my doctor never questioned me about it. Becoming an addict was the easiest thing I had ever done. For any problem, mind numbing relief was just a swallow away.
After a few short months, I had lost contact with most of our mutual friends. In the end, I was left with only a few lifelong friends. Friends I had known before Amy. I never told them, but these few remaining friends had caused the most damage. Each one, in their own time, eventually confessed that they had known about the affair long before the divorce. In their sad attempt at diplomacy, they had all decided to keep the truth from me. In my mind, this was the ultimate betrayal.
The whole event had left me with deep emotional scars and some wounds that would never heal. I had lost my faith in people. Tim was the only one I trusted. For the next few years I would measure my days by how many Vicodin I thought it would take to get through the day. Problems at work was a two-pill day, any interaction with Amy was a three-pill day, and so on. It was a four-pill day when I found Tim’s cold stiff body at the foot of my bed. Three days later, after the fog cleared, I started making plans.
Part One – The First Night
I do my best thinking while I’m driving, that’s why most of the time I drive in total silence. My mind forms plan after plan. Plan, edit, plan, until I form a course of action. Then it’s on to the next plan. If I made the round trip, from Birmingham, Alabama, it would be just over twenty-six hundred miles of planning time. I was going to visit The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado and then head north to Wyoming to visit Devil’s Tower. From Devil’s Tower, I would turn towards home. On the return trip, I planned to visit Mt. Rushmore and then drive through the Badlands. For most of the trip, I was going to wing it. It could end up being a quick trip so the only reservations I made were for The Stanley Hotel.
The Stanley Hotel was built in 1906, by F.O. Stanley. F.O. Stanley was the inventor of the Stanley Steam Engine, and the famous steam powered motorcar, the Stanley Steamer. Staying at The Stanley Hotel had always been a dream. It was on my bucket list. At over four hundred dollars a night, The Stanley Hotel is very expensive. I decided to splurge, and stay five nights. This was the first trip I’d taken in a long time and I was taking it on my own.
I consider myself a huge Steven King fan, and I give him credit for teaching me how to read. In school, it seems like the only thing the teachers assign you to read is either too boring, or too advanced for younger readers to grasp. Assigning Shakespeare to a sixteen-year-old just doesn’t make sense. When I was nineteen years old, I joined the United States Navy. On my flight to San Diego, and boot camp, I had a two-hour layover in the Memphis airport. While I was sitting in the boarding area trying to figure out how to kill some time, I noticed someone reading a book in the seat opposite me. Looking at the book’s cover peaked my interest. The cover had the picture of a huge, growling beast of a dog, with the word “Cujo” written at the top. I decided to visit the airport gift shop to see if I could find a copy of this book. Sure enough, they had many copies available, as “Cujo” had just been released in paperback. I bought a copy, returned to my seat, and opened the book. That day, I learned what a joy reading could be. I’ve been reading Stephen King novels ever since. Stephen King’s writing led me to The Stanley Hotel.
The Stanley Hotel is most famous for being the hotel that inspired Stephen King to write, “The Shining.” He and his wife Tabitha visited the Stanley Hotel in 1974. Their room, room 217 is the most requested room at The Stanley Hotel. To reserve room 217, you must plan your trip years in advance. When I finally checked in, I was fortunate enough to get a room that was at least on the same floor. Not far from room 217, my story begins and ends, in room 202.
Room 202 was beautiful and well worth the price of the stay. When you enter the room, the first thing you notice is the bed. The bed looked expensive and rich. It had a large arched headboard with four huge pillows, a deeply padded mattress and what looked to be a white down comforter. You could die in this bed. The walls, freshly painted in beige, were adorned by large, sepia colored, photographs from the period. One was a shot of two women in early nineteen hundred dress carrying parasols. One held her parasol high and open and the other held her parasol closed and to her side. The women were walking a large white poodle towards the front of the hotel, which had turned to face the camera. The other photograph was of the front of an old steam locomotive running through one of the many tunnels in the Colorado Rockies. The shot of the train was from the direct center of the railway. I wondered how the photographer got that shot without getting run over by that very same train. Other than that, the room had the usual amenities, flat screen television, phone, wireless internet connection, and the most beautiful walk-in shower that I had ever seen. Even the smallest details of the room, down to the complementary shampoo bottles, were immaculate. Normally, the first thing I would do when I got to my hotel room would be to take these tiny bottles and hide them away in my suitcase. It looked like someone had actually taken the time to measure the distance between the bottles, so it would have been a shame to move them. I dropped my suitcase on the bed and turned to look out the window. My room window was facing the back of the hotel looking out over the courtyard below. At the far end of the courtyard there was a man-made waterfall, the water running toward the hotel.
Room 202 was different from the pictures of the rooms online. All those rooms had wall to wall carpeting but room 202 had a wooden floor and looked to original to the building. The wooden floor was richly decorated with two oriental area rugs. A large round rug in the middle of the room and a matching square rug at the foot of the bed. The floor had recently been refinished, however at the entrance to the bathroom there was an strange looking dark stain. It left me to assume that at some point the bathroom must have flooded and stained the floor.
I moved my suitcase from the bed to the valet in the bathroom. In the bathroom, I noticed another strange thing. Past the valet and on the north wall was a small door. The door was about four feet tall and cut at an angle on one side to accommodate shape of the room. It was a dark, solid wooden door with antique brass hardware. Finding the door gave me a slight chill. Was this, perhaps, a secret passage? I slowly opened the door and was disheartened to find that it was only a small closet. Room for hanging your clothes and a small water heater. The only inhabitants were a few lonely looking wire hangers hanging from the clothes bar.
As I closed the door of the small closet, my stomach, with a slow and low rumble, informed me that I had forgotten to eat. The Cascades restaurant was just one floor away, so I decided to head downstairs.
To get to the restaurant you must pass through the Whiskey Bar. With just over sixteen hundred brands, the Whiskey Bar boasts the largest collection of whiskey and single malt scotch in Colorado. Many of these bottles were displayed in front of a mirror that ran the whole length of the bar. The Whiskey Bar is also famous for being the location where they filmed the bar scene in the movie, “Dumb and Dumber.”
The Cascades was a little upscale from what I was used to and had the prices to match. I was road-worn, tired and hungry, so I ignored the price and ordered a meal of elk, buffalo and pork meatloaf with a side Yukon gold mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables. To drink, a tasty glass of the house red wine. The meatloaf was rich and delicate. Each bite seemed to melt in my mouth, which was great, because I was almost too tired to chew. After the meal and with a full belly, I decided to head back to room 202.
I took the 1906 antique “Otis” elevator to the second floor. I could have taken the stairs but I wanted to ride this beautiful elevator at least once. The elevator doors are adorned with mirror like brass panels on the bottom and ornate brass bars on the top. The inside of the elevator had the original dark wooden panels, and still had the old crank that was once used to select the desired floor. Next to the crank was a modern elevator panel. I slipped in the small elevator and pressed the button for the second floor.
Back in room 202, I took a Vicodin, and laid on the bed fully clothed. The bed was as comfortable as it looked and I fell asleep almost immediately. My last waking thought had been about Tim. Tim would have loved this last long ride. I missed my dog.
The Stanley Hotel is also considered one of the most haunted hotels in Colorado. At about half past two in the morning, I was jarred awake by a loud thumping sound, coming from under the bed. My first waking thought was, “No matter what you do, do not look under this bed.” I lay there paralyzed for several minutes before I got up the nerve to get out the bed. Standing on wobbly legs, I stumbled across the room to the light switch on the far wall. After turning on the light, and against my own advice, I dropped to my knees and looked under the bed. There was nothing under the bed except for a few dust bunnies left by the cleaning crew. Not enough to lose a star on TripAdvisor. Still my heart was racing and I was wide awake.
A good thing about taking a trip by yourself is that you are free to do practically anything you want. So walking the halls of The Stanley Hotel, at half past two in the morning, was a treat. “No better time for a ghost hunt.” I thought. It seemed like I had the whole hotel to myself because I was alone, not one single guest in the halls at this hour. I didn’t really believe in ghosts, but had my IPhone camera ready, just in case.
When we look in a mirror, most of us hope that we reflect someone handsome, or beautiful, or fit. At fifty years old, I had long since given up hope of my reflection being anything other than what it was. I mention this, because in the halls of The Stanley Hotel hang huge mirrors with ornate golden frames. One hanging on the far east side of the hall and it’s twin hanging on the far west side of the hall. My first encounter with one of these mirrors was a bit of a shock. I was looking through the view finder on my phone and as I turned I was startled when I saw a pale figure taking my picture. My first thought was, “Why would a ghost be taking my picture?”. Alas, the hopes of seeing my first ghost were dashed. As I brought the camera down from my eye, I saw that it was only my reflection. Pale, Overweight, and slightly greying at the temples.
I turned left and down a short hall to find room 217, the infamous Steven King suite. As I walked up to the door of room 217 I thought of how silly I must look. But at this hour, it would have been equally as silly, if anyone were looking through the peep hole on the other side of that door. I took a close-up picture of the front of the door, making sure I got the brass, oval, 217 plaque in the shot. After I felt satisfied, I turned back down the hall toward the grand staircase. I walked down the staircase to the first floor.
At the first floor I rounded the corner, and went down another flight of stairs to the basement level. The basement level is where guests of The Stanley Hotel bought souvenirs from a small gift shop or tickets for a midnight ghost tour. There was no one manning the ticket counter at this hour, and the gift shop was of course, closed. I walked south toward the basement entrance of the hotel. As I walked I noticed one of the night janitors moping the floor of what appeared to be a café, which was the first room you walked through if you came through this basement entrance. The janitor was bent to his work and did not acknowledge the strange character roaming the halls at this ungodly hour. I was going to say hello, but he had headphones on his ears, so I decided not to bother him. I walked past him unnoticed, out the doors and into the hotel parking lot.
Even in late July, the night air was crisp and cold. It was a clear night and the stars in the night sky seemed so close you could reach out and touch them. The full moon gave the snow-covered mountains in the distance had a ghostly glow. Estes Park has an elevation of just over seventy-five hundred feet. I had been warned that it would be hard to breathe at this altitude but I found the thin air invigorating.
I turned toward the far side of the lower parking lot. Just past a low hedge maze, I would be able to take some great photos of The Stanley Hotel. The main building of the F.O. Stanley’s hotel was built in the, “Colonial Revival” style. Since then, several similar additions had been built nearby. I focused on the main building and was careful to make sure I got a shot that showed The Stanley, framed by the multitude of visible stars in the night sky.
The parking lot was eerily quiet. The air was so cold that even the crickets had placed their nightly discussions on hold. Breaking the silence was the click clicking of small wheels moving up the steps of the hotel. A late arrival was lugging a large suitcase up the stairs toward the main entrance. She was young, maybe in her early twenties, with straight blond hair. She wore a full length brown leather coat and matching brown leather gloves. I could tell by her foggy breath that she was winded from the effort. This must have been her first time visiting the Stanley Hotel. A more seasoned visitor would have known that just through the basement entrance, past the café, was the elevator. It would have been much easier to roll her suitcase through the basement entrance. Had I seen her earlier, I could have saved her the trouble of moving that heavy bag up the stairs. She reached the doors of the hotel and turned to look back at the parking lot. She surveyed the parking lot as if she was looking from the peak of the mountain she had just climbed, to the valley below, proud of her accomplishment. I gave her a small wave, embarrassed that I had not rushed to help her with her bag. She was not amused, and she did not wave back.
I glanced at my watch and realized that it was already four o’clock. I decided to go back to my room, and continue this ghost hunt at another time. I had a big day planned and would probably need the sleep. As I was walking back towards the basement entrance, I noticed a blurry white shape moving through the parking lot. Eventually the shape came into focus. It was a large white poodle. I watched the poodle until it ran around the far corner of the hotel. I thought about the photo adorning the wall of room 202. I decided it was just a coincidence and continued walking back to my room. “Maybe I’m the ghost.” I thought as I again passed the unwitting janitor.
Part Two – The Morning, the Bacon Bloody Mary, and the Blonde.
Hours later when I woke, I felt groggy, like I still had Vicodin in my system. “I only took one pill yesterday, right?” I asked myself, as I tried clear the cobwebs and roll out of bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I tried to focus on the night stand clock. Squinting just right, I could make out that it was eleven o’clock. Next to the clock, was the open bottle of pills.
An addict gets adept at keeping track of their stash. I started counting my pills years ago. I needed know if I was in danger of running out. A three-month prescription would normally last about a month. I counted fifty-six pills in Salinas. I knew I had taken one pill yesterday, so I should have fifty-five pills left. I slowly counted the pills left in the bottle. Fifty-two pills. Somehow three pills were missing. I immediately thought that the cleaning crew had entered while I was asleep and had helped themselves. I certainly didn’t take three more pills before I went back to sleep. But why was I so groggy? “No way.” I whispered. I would make sure I put the bottle away before I went to bed tonight.
After a cold shower, I was feeling more alert so I got dressed and started thinking about breakfast. I went downstairs, back through the Whiskey Bar, to the Cascades restaurant. Sadly, the restaurant was closed. Too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. I sat down at the bar to ask the bartender about someplace close to get breakfast when I casually picked up the bar menu. The first thing that caught my attention was the Bacon Bloody Mary. Back home we called a Bloody Mary, breakfast in a glass. I decided to try it.
“You are kidding me?” I said as the bartender placed the drink in front of me.
“Looks good, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Almost too good to drink.” I answered with a smile.
“Take my advice, drink it.” Said the bartender, “You look like you could use it.”
Describing the Bacon Bloody Mary is like trying to describe the holy trinity. The Bacon Bloody Mary is not your typical bloody Mary. The large glass was filled with a garden variety of pickled vegetables and garnished with four slices of thick applewood smoked bacon. Two pieces in the glass and two more crossed on top of the glass. The smoked bacon was salty and sweet, and it was a perfect complement for the rich flavor of the tomato juice. Before I knew it, I had eaten all the garnish, finished the drink, and was making that god awful straw sucking noise in the bottom of the glass. I considered ordering another drink, but I had reservations for a tour of the Rocky Mountains at one o’clock and it was already noon.
The Rocky Mountain Rush tour is a favorite among tourists who want to take a thrill ride through Rocky Mountain National Park. The bright yellow Hummers that they use for the ride made the place very easy to find, so I parked across the street in the town library parking lot. As I walked across the street, I glanced at my watch and noticed I was thirty minutes early. “Damn”, I thought to myself, “I could have that second bloody Mary.” I entered the small office and checked in for the tour. The clerk directed me to the large wooden benches in front of the building. I walked outside and sat on the bench closest to the door.
I sat on the bench for forty- five minutes. No one else had arrived and I was becoming anxious. I was about to go back in the office when I noticed a woman, wearing a baseball cap, crossing the road. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail and the pony tail was coming through the back of the ball cap. As she got closer, I thought I recognized her from somewhere. Then it hit me, this was the blond who arrived at the hotel early this morning. The one with the huge suitcase. I kept my head down as she passed me and went into the office. I would have left, but I had already paid for the tour, so that was not an option. A few minutes later she walked out of the office and sat on the same bench, as far away from me as possible. “You had better get used to it.” I thought, “you two are going to be stuck with each other for the next four hours.”
I didn’t say a word, and kept my head down in the hopes that she would not recognize me. Occasionally I would take a quick glance at her. “Maybe she won’t notice.” I thought, but my next glance caught her looking directly at me. She had recognized me and was shooting daggers through her eyes.
“Look,” I said as I faced her and raised both hands, “I didn’t see you until you were nearly at the top of the stairs. I would have offered my help, but it was too late.”
“Yeah, you look like you would have been a great help.” She replied with a smirk.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“Well just take a good look at yourself.” she said. “You’re not in the best shape, and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”
I stood up ready to defend myself and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window. I did look bad. My shirt was wrinkled, I had forgotten to comb my hair, and there were huge bags under my eyes. “Point well taken.” I said, as I plopped back down on the bench, hands immediately trying to fix my hair. Under my breath I muttered, “At least I know how to tell time.” We sat in a brooding silence for the next fifteen minutes.
One of the yellow hummers pulled up and the driver got out and walked into the office. He was heavy set and he was dressed like an Australian crocodile hunter. “Welcome to Animal Kingdom.” I thought to myself, waiting for him to return. When he came back out of the office he stood next to the hummer and waved us over. “We have to have at least four people to take the tour.” He said, “Unfortunately, the other party we had scheduled for this tour called to cancel a few minutes ago.
“You’ve kidding me?” I asked sarcastically.
“No, I’m not.” he replied, “You’ve already paid for the tour, so you have the option to get a refund or reschedule for tomorrow.”
The blonde and I glanced at each other and simultaneously proclaimed, “Refund!”
The blonde went in first to have her refund processed, while I waited outside. She left, giving me quick glance, and then walked across the street to her car. I watched her drive away, went inside and holding back a laugh, I said, “I’d like to reschedule for tomorrow.”
Part Three – What the hell is Heterochromia?
“Sitting on a park bench
Eying little girls with bad intent
Snots running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes, hey, Aqualung”
“Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run, hey, Aqualung
Feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck, oh, Aqualung”…
~Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull
One of the many things I wanted to do on this trip is drive the length of Trail Ridge Road. Due to a late snowfall, the road was still closed. On the way back to the Jeep, I made a quick call and found out that the road had just opened. I formed a plan to drive the road later that afternoon.
Walking from the parking lot of the hotel, to the main entrance, I saw the white poodle again. He was running through the hedge maze in the front of the hotel and looked like he was having a great time getting lost. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth and he looked like he was smiling. He stopped and looked up at me for several seconds, as if he recognized someone he didn’t like, his eyes flashed red and his smile turned into a teeth baring snarl. He could have easily jumped over the low hedge maze and attacked me, so I averted my gaze and walked quickly up the stairs of the hotel.
The porch of the hotel is huge. On the right and left of the main entrance, are several white wicker chairs, with tables to match. This would be a perfect viewpoint to drink a morning mimosa and stare out at the show covered mountains in the distance. Entering through the main doors you will first notice a beautiful round table with a fresh flower arrangement in the center of the room. Just past the table was the grand staircase. The grand staircase was the star of the room, it had a rich looking stair runner framed by dark curved handrails and contrasting white spindles. To your immediate right sat a green Stanley Steamer and someone had positioned a mirror under the car so you could see every detail. On the far right of the lobby are a set of large doors leading to a grand ballroom. On the far left of the lobby is the entrance to the Cascades restaurant. There are two large fireplaces on either side of the room and in front of each fireplace are four overstuffed brown leather armchairs and a small coffee table. Fires were raging in both fireplaces.
I decide to sit for a few minutes in one of the overstuffed arm chairs by the fireplace to the right. I sank into the chair and sat staring at the fire for several minutes. Fire had always had a hypnotic effect on me. I could stare at a fire for hours, not thinking of a thing. It was only time my mind was ever truly blank. After a few minutes, I snapped out of my trance and decide to use my iPhone to check in on Facebook. I had lots of friends on Facebook. Having friends on Facebook is like having a frozen dinner in the freezer. It’s not really food, and these weren’t really my friends. Still, I liked seeing what they had to post. Living vicariously through them was a treat. I glanced at the fire again and saw the blonde standing in front of me. “Great,” I thought, “Here we go again.” and quickly looked back at my phone.
“So…that sucked.” She said.
“What was that?” I asked, looking at her over my reading glasses.
“They cancelled our tour.” She said, “I had my entire afternoon planned around that stupid tour.”
“Oh,” I said, “I guess it did suck.”
“I’m Amber, by the way.” She said as she stood on her toes, leaned in towards me, and held out her hand for a formal handshake.
“She must be in sales.” I thought. I stood and took her hand. “Ken.” I said, “Nice to finally meet you.”
I was going to offer her a seat, but before I finished the gesture, she sat in the in the chair next to me. “Can I be honest with you?” she asked.
“By all means.” I replied, “You strike me as someone who can be dangerously honest.”
“Well, I didn’t get a refund, I decided to reschedule my tour for tomorrow.” She said.
I chuckled at my good luck, “You did? Imagine that?”
“Why is that funny?” she said curtly, as she slid to the front of the chair.
I decided not to tell her that I had also rescheduled my tour. “Nothing,” I said, “It hit me a little sideways, I guess. No offense.”
She slid back, relaxing. Then, “I just need to figure out what to do the rest of the day.”
I thought for a moment, “They offer some great horseback tours in town. You probably have time to catch one of those.” I told her. I was fighting the urge to invite her to drive Trail Ridge Road with me.
Waiting for her reply, I found myself staring at her face. She looked like an elf without the pointed ears. Small in every way she couldn’t have been more than five feet tall. She had large eyes, almost too large for her face, a small pinched nose, and full lips on a rather small mouth. I did a classic double take when I noticed that she had two different color eyes, one green and one blue.
“What?” She asked.
“Nothing,” I said, “I just noticed that your eyes are two different colors.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said, “you’ve hardly looked at me the whole day.” After pausing a few seconds, she said, “It’s called heterochromia.”
I thought for a moment about how I should respond. I remembered once laying on the beach in Florida, one of the many vacations Amy and I took with our group of friends. I saw an attractive woman in a bikini walking toward us, and I casually elbowed my friend Rob, and nodded for him to look at the woman. As the woman walked closer and after a few moments of lecherous staring, I finally realized that it was Rob’s teenage daughter. I had to beg his forgiveness and since then I try to make sure I don’t stare women in general, especially younger women.
“You are a very beautiful young lady.” I said, “It’s just that I have two daughters who are just slightly younger than you. Staring at you makes me feel like a creep.”
“So, you were not looking at me to be polite? Interesting.” She said, as she cracked a small smile and stood at attention in front of me. “How old do you think I am?”
She had me feeling awkward. “If I had to guess, I would say, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six?”
She laughed aloud and sat back in the chair, “Trying to be polite again?” She said, “Nice, but I’m thirty-four.”
Surprised at the news, I looked back down at my phone and said, “That really doesn’t make staring any better, does it?”
Her chuckling slowly subsided. “You’re right. I never thought about it that way. I guess that makes me feel better.”
After a few minutes of silence, she stood up again. I looked up at her over my reading glasses again and not wanting to make eye contact, quickly looked back at my phone.
“I guess I better think of something else to do today.” She said hinting, as she moved her hands down the front of her legs to adjust her jeans. “This hotel is too expensive to just sit yapping all day.” She added sarcastically. She spoke with a slight country twang, I guessed she was from somewhere in east Texas.
“Damn it!” I thought to myself, sometimes I hate being a nice guy. I looked back up at her and said, “I’m going to drive Trail Ridge Road this afternoon. You’re more than welcome to join me.” I lied.
“I thought they closed that road.” She said.
“I checked earlier, they opened it back up this morning.” I told her.
She thought for a few seconds, “I guess that’s better than sitting around all day.” She said.
“Don’t let me twist your arm.” I said, secretly hoping she would opt out.
“No, no,” she replied “It sounds fun. I’m going to run up to my room and change. I’ll meet you back here in what, half an hour?”
“Sounds good,” I said, as she turned toward the grand staircase. “Dress warm.” I warned, “It can be twenty or thirty degrees colder on top of that mountain.”
She kept walking and did not turn around. Then she held up her hand, her fingers indicating the universal “Ok”.
“Cut it out, Aqualung”, I whispered, as I caught myself staring at her ass.
Part Four – Rats and Chocolate Brownies.
Back in room 202, I started to feel rushed and anxious. I considered taking another Vicodin, but decided to wait until after the drive. I emptied my pockets and tossed my phone on the newly made bed. As I tossed the phone I knew immediately that it was going to take an ugly bounce and hit the floor on the other side of the bed. Frustrated, I walked around the bed to pick up my phone. Somehow it had bounced a few feet under the bed. “Jesus”, I thought, “Don’t tell me it’s going to be one of those days.” I had to lay flat on the floor to get my arm in a position to reach the phone. I could just touch the phone with my outstretched fingers, it was intact, but I noticed something unusual under the bed. I turned on the flashlight app on the phone so I had some extra light. There were fresh scratches under the bed. I rubbed my fingers over one of the scratches. They felt rough and deep. My mind immediately went to the noise that woke me up early this morning. I shuddered and thought of how big a rat would have to be to make these scratches. I needed to let the front desk know about the scratches, but I had already lost fifteen minutes, so I decided to wait until after the drive. I quickly undressed and put on my thermal underwear. I had come prepared for bad weather. “Layers.” I said to myself as I slid into a pair of hiking pants. I put on a red flannel shirt, looked in the mirror and thought, “The Brawny paper towel guy has let himself go.”
I was putting on my hiking boots and had already laced my left boot. As I was stuffing my other foot into the right boot I heard a knock on the door. I hopped to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was the elf. I stomped down and felt the right boot slide the rest of the way on my foot. “How did she know what room I was in?” I thought. I didn’t remember telling her. I opened the door and without waiting for an invitation she slid past me and into the room.
“You ready?” she asked.
I looked at her in obvious confusion.
“Come on, don’t you know?” she asked, “I’m a twenty-five-year-old blonde, all I had to do was bat my eyes.” answering her own question. She smiled impishly as she posed with her hand on her hip.
“It figures.” I said, trying to bend over, and tie my right boot.
“I’m kidding.” she quipped, “If you must know. I called the front desk and told them that you were my father and I had forgotten your room number. I guess they felt sorry for me.”
I fell back in one of the arm chairs and continued working on my boot. “That’s even better.” I said, slightly annoyed.
She looked like she had dressed properly for the trip, although her jacket looked a little thin. She took a small sandwich bag out of her jacket pocket and threw it on the bed. “Here’s my ticket to ride.” she said, “You know what you older people used to say? Gas, Grass, or Ass, no one rides for free.”
“That was way before my time.” I replied as I walked over to the bed, boot still untied. I picked up the sandwich bag and held it out towards her. Two small chocolate cakes were in the bag. They looked like those mini brownies that you can buy at a truck stop. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Hey, do I need to remind you where we are?” she said, “We’re in Colorado, it is legal.” She took the bag from my hand, opened it, and offered me a brownie.
I paused for a moment. “Come on, old man.” She said showing that same impish grin and shaking the brownie in my face.
“You’re the devil.” I said, as I took the brownie from her hand. “I haven’t done this in over twenty years.”
“It’s not as bad as those.” she said, as she nodded toward the pill bottle on the nightstand.
Hoping to change the subject, I bit into the brownie and was immediately sorry I did. The brownie had the consistency of sawdust. “This is god-awful.” I mumbled as I tried to chew the brownie.
Not really my choice for desert.” She said, “But they get the job done.” She took the other brownie out of the bag and popped the whole thing in her mouth.
I took two water bottles out of the mini-fridge, offered her one, and began to rinse my mouth. The water helped a little, but I still had bits of brownie stuck in my teeth.
“Let’s get started.” I said as I grabbed my down vest and gestured to the door. She didn’t say a word, but walked to the door. “Hold on a sec.” I said and waved her back. I still had not tied my boot. I sat down in the chair again and re-laced my boot. When I was satisfied, I stood up, grabbed my backpack, and held the door open for her. As we walked down the stairs, my mind briefly went back to the scratches under the bed. “Rats”, I shuddered.
Part 5 – Driving the Ridge.
Earlier, I had emptied out my backpack and repacked it with things we might need on the drive. The black backpack was in the molle style. Pronounced “Molly”, Molle in an acronym for Modular Lightweight Load-carrying Equipment. Put simply, it is a bag that has the capability of being expanded with modular attachments. I had several attachments, but didn’t feel the need to bring those on the trip. Inside the backpack, I had things you might need in an emergency. I keep a flashlight, a phone charger, a change of clothes, a wool blanket and a few loose tools. I had removed the clothes and replaced them with the action camera, a regular DSLR camera, a few energy bars, and a few bottles of water.
When we got to the Jeep, I opened the backpack and grabbed the action camera. I threw the backpack in the back of the Jeep and strapped the action camera to the roll bar.
I felt a twinge in my lower back. “How long?” I asked, “I still don’t feel anything.”
“About twenty or thirty minutes.” She said, as I walked to the back of the Jeep again and grabbed the green foul weather jacket I kept for emergencies.
“Here, put this on.” I told Amber, as I handed her the jacket.
“I take it this does not meet with your satisfaction.” she said, as she pulled at the front of her lightweight jacket.
I explained, “It’s fifty degrees right now. If the temperature drops twenty degrees, that’s below freezing. Better safe than sorry, Right?”
She did not reply, but took the lightweight jacket off and placed it in the back of the Jeep. As she slipped the green jacket over her shoulders, I immediately noticed it was too big for her.
She still did not speak, but turned to face me and let out a sigh. She had managed to pull the zipper to just under her chin. She held her arms to her sides and I could tell that the sleeves were at least four inches too long. The bottom of the jacket went to her knees.
“Looks good.” I said smiling.
“Property of the US Navy.” She mumbled.
“Pardon me?” I asked.
“The label says property of the US Navy. I have a feeling this monstrosity is hot in at least two ways.” She said, as she rolled the sleeves of the jacket up to her wrists.
“What?” I said. Without thinking, I grabbed the back of the jacket collar and pulled it up so I could read the label. “That son of a bitch. I never noticed the tag.”
“Hey.” She said as she slapped my shoulder. “You nearly took my nose off with this big ass zipper.” She was showing me the zipper with one hand while rubbing her nose with the other hand.
“Sorry about that” I said, “I didn’t know it was stolen.”
My daughter’s boyfriend, Jason, had sent me the jacket a few months before my trip. Jason was a lifer and was going to make the Navy a career. Jason and Heather met two years ago in Panama City, Florida, during spring break. Recently Jason had requested and been ordered to transfer to a communication station in Adak, Alaska. He wanted the transfer because it helped his chances of being excepted to Officers Candidate School after his two-year tour. Adak is in the Aleutian Islands and so far north it was considered hazardous duty. These foul weather jackets were standard issue in Adak. The jacket was made of a durable green canvas on the outside and soft warm sheepskin on the inside.
“Not to worry. I won’t turn you in.” She said smiling. “Besides, you can pick one of these up at any Army, Navy surplus store.”
She unzipped the jacket. “Fucker’s hot already.” She said. She opened the passenger door and sat down, “Ready.”
“Up or down?” I asked. It was her turn to look confused. “Do you want the top of the Jeep up or down?”
She thought for a moment and then “Down. Maybe I’ll cool off.”
I got in the driver’s seat to start the Jeep when I realized I had forgotten something. I got out, walked to around the Jeep and loosened the gas cap. “Vapor lock.” I said.
Vapor lock occurs when the gas in your tank vaporizes due to high temperature or high altitude. This in turn causes your vehicle to lose power and stall. I didn’t know why loosening the gas cap helped, but I read it online, so it must have been true.
I got back in the Jeep, started it, and reached up to press the record button the camera. I reminded Amber to buckle her seat belt. “It’s the law.” I said.
“All right dad.” She said as she buckled her seat belt.
Trail Ridge Road boasts itself to be the highest paved road in America. Heading east from Estes Park, the road winds its way above the tree line to an elevation of over twelve thousand feet. There are several turn outs so visitors can stop to admire the view or take photographs of the landscape. The road ends forty- eight miles away on the eastern side of Grand Lake. In the past, the Arapahoe Indians used Trail Ridge or “Taienbaa”, to move from the west side of the Rocky Mountains, to their favorite hunting grounds in the east. Loosely translated, “Taienbaa” means; “The land where the children walked”, because it was so steep that the Arapahoe could not carry their children. On the drive, you have the chance to see several different landscapes, from dense forests to arctic tundra. There are many different types of wildlife. Elk, Bear, and Big Horn Sheep are common encounters. The road will also bring you to Milner’s pass and the continental divide. Although not the highest elevation on the road, the continental divide is a favorite spot for tourists to snap a photo standing in front of the sign. On the east side of the continental divide, the water from the melting snow eventually ends up in the Atlantic Ocean. On the west side of the continental divide the water eventually ends up in the Pacific Ocean.
Not five minutes into the drive, Amber said “I take it back, let’s put the top up.”
I did not stop, but turned the heater on the Jeep to high.
Just past the Deer Mountain trailhead, highway thirty-six turns into highway thirty-four. You have the option to take Fall River Road to the north or continue on Trail Ridge Road to the west. Fall River Road eventually circles back to Estes Park and Trail Ridge Road goes on to Grand Lake. I stayed on Trail Ridge Road. A short distance from the fork, I noticed several cars parked in the turnout ahead. I decided to pull over to see what all the excitement was about. I opened my backpack, grabbed the camera, and we walked across the road to where all the people were standing.
“Look.” Amber said, as she got my attention with her elbow. She pointed to field about fifty yards to the south. There were two large herds of elk feeding in the field below. I raised camera and began snapping photos of the elk. I noticed a large bull elk turn and begin walking towards the crowd.
I lowered my camera, pointed, and said, “Get ready to run.”
“Jesus.” She said. “Is he coming our way?”
I was about to answer, when I noticed the crowd part to give way to the bull elk. The elk walked through the middle of the crowd without incident and passed just to our right. The bull had an odd smell, a musky scent of hay and manure. It was a huge animal, at least five feet tall at the shoulders. Amber had worked her way around me to make sure I was shielding her from a potential attack.
“What is he doing?” She asked.
“I don’t know.” I said, “Just don’t move.” I raised the camera slowly to take a few close-up shots.
The bull elk walked across the road and paused, as if he were worried about something. He stared off to the north for a few seconds and then opened its mouth and let out a god-awful scream. The scream sounded like a child, if that child was screaming for help from the bottom of a well. After a few more calls the bull elk turned, snorted in frustration, and started walking back towards us. I could feel Amber shaking, as she grabbed the sides of my jacket and held tight. “Just take it easy.” I whispered. I felt the panic kick in when the big bull stopped right in front of me. He stared at me as if he knew a secret and with another loud scream he tried to share his secret with me. After a few seconds, the bull elk snorted again, then turned and walked through the crowd back to the herd below.
“That was weird.” Amber said, Her voice trembling with fear. “It looked like he was trying to tell you something.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” I told her, “But then again, this is the first time I’ve seen elk this close.”
“Let’s get out of here.” She said, “I’ve seen enough wildlife for one day.”
She did not wait for me to reply, but grabbed my hand and led me across the road back to the Jeep.
“Good thing that wasn’t a bear.” I joked.
“Not funny.” She said. Still trembling, she sat in the Jeep and buckled her seat belt.
I started driving again and after a few minutes of silence Amber said, “So what’s your story?”
I was still shaken but managed to tell her about myself, my children, and the divorce. She did not comment, but nodded her head, encouraging me on. I finished the short story of my life and she said. “So that’s what divorce is like?”
“It was a pretty mess.” I said. “I’m sure it’s different for everyone, but it’s not something I ever want to go through again.”
“I left my husband.” She offered without hesitation.
“I didn’t know you were married.” I said.
She pulled on a chain around her neck and from beneath her shirt popped a gold band that was attached to the chain. “I haven’t figured out what to do with it yet.”
I reached over and opened the ashtray on the dash of the Jeep. I had put my wedding ring in the ash tray when I left Amy. It was the first time I had seen the ring in five years. “Join the club.” I said.
She glanced at the ring and I closed the ashtray. “Bryan, that’s my husband, is a doctor.” She said, “We met in high school. After we married, I worked to help pay his way through medical school.
“For the past five years, we have been trying to have a baby. Finally, we went to a specialist and were both tested. Turns out, it was my fault.” She paused. “He could not take it and turned into a huge asshole.
“I caught him in bed with his nurse a week ago. In our bed!”
“So, you just left?” I asked.
“Not before I took every cent out of every joint account we had.” She continued, “CD’s, checking, savings, everything. I took the money, packed the Mercedes and drove off without a word.”
“And drove to The Stanley Hotel, in Estes Park, Colorado?” I asked.
“Didn’t know.” She said. “I just started driving and ended up here.” After pausing to catch her breath, she added “That big ass suitcase you saw me lugging up the steps is his. It’s full of cash.”
“You’re awful trusting of someone you just met” I said, trying to change the subject. I could tell she was on the verge of tears.
“I don’t know, for some reason I trust you.” She said. “Maybe it’s because you seem as miserable as I am.
“Thirty-four years old, and starting over again. It sucks.” She said as she wiped at the tears that were now flowing freely. She looked lost in thought for a moment and then added, “I’m sorry, it must be even worse for you. How do you handle this shit at your age?”
“Told myself I was done with women.” I answered, “Life was easier when I took the need for companionship off the table.”
“And the sex?” she asked.
“In the end, the only time we had sex, was when she came to bed drunk. It started feeling like a chore.” I paused and then shrugged, “I guess I just don’t think about it that much anymore.”
“Sorry for getting so personal.” She said, “Let’s change the subject.”
“Good idea.” I replied.
We drove along in silence for the next several minutes. As we got higher in the mountains, we started seeing the huge snow drifts left by the snow plows, some as high as eight or nine feet. Many of them had names carved into the side of the drift. We passed a few teenagers trying to carve a peace sign into one of them. “That looks like fun.” I said, “Cold fun.”
Suddenly I saw the white poodle from the hotel dart into the road. I quickly turned the wheel and slammed the brake with both feet. The Jeep tipped a few inches to one side, but luckily came to rest on all four wheels. We were crossways in the road by then and I drove a few feet to get back on the right side of the road. I stopped the Jeep, got out, and walked back the way we came. I did not see anything, the white poodle was gone.
“What the hell are you doing?” She yelled back at me, “Trying to kill us?”
I walked back to the Jeep, “You didn’t see that?”
“See what?” she said trembling in anger.
“That big white poodle in the middle of the road.” I yelled, “How could you have missed it?”
“I didn’t see anything in the road.” She said, “Especially a dog.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked, “No way you didn’t see that dog.”
I got back in the jeep and started the engine. “I didn’t see it, I swear.” She said, “You obviously did, let’s just leave it at that. I’m just glad this jeep didn’t turn over. That would have been a bitch.”
I thought for a few seconds. “No, you’re right, it couldn’t have been that same dog.” I said finally, “I just saw it a few minutes ago at the hotel. He would have to fly to get up here that fast.”
She placed a hand on mine and said, “Maybe it’s the brownie?”
We both started laughing and just then it started to snow. A few seconds later the Jeep’s engine died.
Part Six – Stranded.
With Amber steering, I managed to push the Jeep a few hundred feet up the road. “Thank god.” I said, as I saw a large parking lot a few feet ahead. “Parking Lot.” I yelled to Amber and pointed to the left. She again gave me the universal OK. By the time, we got the Jeep into a parking space I was thoroughly winded. Out of breath, I panted “That’s my, exercise, for the day.”
I leaned back on the fender of the jeep. It was snowing harder now; the flakes were the biggest I had ever seen and felt good on my face. Amber got out and leaned on the jeep beside me. “That was exhausting.” She said, and then “No power steering.”
“At least, you, didn’t have to, push that heavy sucker, up a mountain.” I managed to get out between pants.
Amber turned to face me. “What’s wrong old man?” She poked me in the belly. “Out of shape?”
“I’m old, I get to be out of shape.” I responded catching my breath.
“Oh, you’re not that old.” She said as she stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek. She quickly turned and walked toward the trail ahead.
I reluctantly pushed myself off the Jeep and followed. “Oh yeah, tell that to my back.” I whispered to myself, wishing I had brought my pills.
The trail ahead was covered in snow. You could not tell it was a trail except for the muddy footprints left by people walking back and forth. There were at least twenty people walking to end of the trail and back. Each group that passed by were engaged in separate conversations. Some were speaking Spanish, and there were some speaking a language I could not make out. Farsi, perhaps? I fell in line behind Amber and started up the small slope to the top of the trail. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure I was behind her.
About halfway up the trail I noticed a sign describing the view. Snow was all the way to the top of the sign and someone had wiped enough away to be able to see the face of the sign. Considering how tall the sign was, I guessed we were walking on top of at least four feet of packed snow. At the top of the trail, with snow blowing in wispy trails, you could just make out the scene below. “Isn’t it beautiful.” Amber said as she turned to face me.
The view was of the mountains in the distance. We were high enough to see the tops of clouds. They had settled in and around the mountain peaks and looked like bleached white cotton. “Take a picture.” Amber said as she nudged me with her elbow. I had forgotten to bring my camera from the Jeep and was not about to walk back to get it. I still had my iPhone in my front pocket, so I pulled it out and started snapping pictures, pausing every few seconds to blow the snowflakes off the camera lens.
“Let’s take a selfie.” I heard Amber say.
If she only knew how much I hated the word selfie, let alone the actual act. The word sounded too much like masturbation to me, and I guess in a way, it was. “Oh honey” I thought, “I caught little Johnny taking a selfie in the bathroom again.”
Making sure we had a good backdrop, Amber grabbed my free arm and pulled me to her side. I raised the camera in that egotistical self-portrait pose and snapped our picture. “Let’s see.” She said as she pulled my arm down. “It’s nice, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” I said, as I chuckled and slipped the phone back in the pocket of my hiking pants, “Was it good for you?”
“What?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you later.” I answered. “Let’s head back to the Jeep.”
I tried to start the Jeep again. It turned over, but wouldn’t catch.
Watching the slow parade of people walk to top of the trail and back, we sat in silence for at least thirty minutes. Amber had the collar of the jacket pulled up around the sides of her face, which was red with cold. Every now and then She would sink below the collar and become fully cocooned inside the jacket. She looked like a turtle, sticking its head in and out of its shell. I retrieved the blanket from my backpack and had it wrapped around my shoulders. In the end, it was me who didn’t wear the right coat.
I had been trying to start the jeep every few minutes. Hearing my failed attempts, a brown skinned man started walking towards me. “Vapar Lock.” He said in broken English as he approached the Jeep.
“Yes.” I said, nodding my head like an idiot. Amber poked me in the ribs with her elbow.
“I will try to help you?” he said.
“Sure.” I said, “At this point I’ll take all the help I can get.”
He walked to the side of the jeep toward the gas cap. “Let the pressure out, and It should start.” Then, “Did you know your gas cup is loose?”
“I know,” I answered. “I was trying to prevent Vapor Lock.” Over pronouncing the word vapor. Another jab in the ribs.
“No.” He said, “You loosen the gas cap after vapour lock, not before.” He tightened the gas cap and walked around the Jeep toward me. “You can try it now?” he asked.
I pumped the gas pedal a few times and turned the key. The Jeep started right up and I heard a giggle from the turtle sitting next to me.
I got out of the Jeep and held my hand out toward the man. “Thank you.” I said, bowing slightly to him.
“You’re welcome.” He said, smiling, and taking my hand. “And you do not have to bow to me. I’m from Pakistan, not Japan.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I said, embarrassed, “Thanks Again.”
I was startled when he suddenly yelled, “Vapor Lock!” proud that he had finally gotten the word right.
“Got it.” I told him.
He walked off towards his group and they all began speaking to him in their native tongue. I listened for a minute, staring at the group. Every once and awhile I could make out the words “Vapor Lock.”
Part Seven – More Meatloaf?
The snow was still falling, so we had a choice to make. We either drive on toward Grand Lake and risk getting trapped on the other side, or we turn around and drive back to Estes Park. I was afraid they might close the road before we drove back, so my vote was to turn around. Amber agreed, “I’ve had enough excitement for one day.” She said.
We started driving back to Estes Park and as soon as we got to the tree line, the snow turned to rain. “Great.” I said, and before I could finish the thought it stopped raining.
We pulled over at a gift shop. I parked next to an ornate totem pole on the edge of the parking lot. Behind the totem pole was small creek. The rushing water looked so pure you could drink it, but it also looked very cold. Inside the gift shop, we bought a few souvenirs. I bought a piece of granite from the mountain. It is illegal to take a rock from Rocky Mountain National Park, but they can sell them in the gift shop. I figured the only way they could justify selling them was that they had to donate a portion of the sale back to the park. Amber bought a replica of the totem pole outside the gift shop.
“It’s a pen.” She said, showing me the small totem pole, “I’m getting hungry, let’s go back and get something to eat.”
“Good Idea.” I said.
We left the store and started to walk back to the Jeep. From behind I heard, “Another selfie?”
I turned and saw Amber standing next to the totem pole.
As if by magic, Amber pulled another item out of her bag. It was a small stuffed animal in the shape of an elk. “To remember the trip.” She said as she handed me the stuffed elk.
We drove straight to the hotel and decided to get some dinner at the Cascades restaurant. I did not let on that I had just eaten there the day before. It was five o’clock and already people were slowly filling the restaurant. We had not bothered to change from our road trip and Amber looked embarrassed about how she was dressed. She quickly excused herself and made her way to the lady’s room. She came back a few minutes later, “Best I could do.” She said.
“You look fine, just don’t look at them.” I said. “Act invisible.”
“Does that work?” she asked smiling at the joke.
As luck would have it, I got the same waiter from the night before. “Back for more meatloaf?” he said, ruining my secret.
“You’ve been here before? She asked.
“Give us a few minutes.” I told the waiter.
“Sure.” He said and walked away.
“I came in last night. It was a last-minute decision, I was tired and worn out. I ate at the most convenient place.” I explained, thinking to myself how comfortable I was with Amber. We had just met this morning and it already seemed like we were old friends. “Invisible.” I reminded her.
She smiled, “Anyway, how was the meatloaf?” She asked.
“Wonderful.” I said, “Melts in your mouth.”
“Good.” she said, “I’m almost too tired to chew.”
The waiter could see the smile on my face and thinking it was safe, returned to our table.
“Have you decided?” He asked.
I ordered the meatloaf for Amber, taking the chance that I wouldn’t offend her. For myself I ordered the cheeseburger, with a side of steamed mixed vegetables. I also ordered a bottle of the house red for the table.
“Very good choice.” Said the waiter, casting a sly grin at Amber.
“I’ll give you good choice.” I thought to myself, feeling a little jealous.
We made nervous small talk during dinner. Finally, after we had finished the bottle of wine. She looked at me and smiled. “You know you could have killed us up there today. What was it you said, a white poodle?”
I was about to tell her about the white poodle, but the waiter intervened. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Just the check.” I said. It was then that I remembered that the camera was still attached to the roll bar of the Jeep. When the waiter returned with my credit card, I took my card and signed the receipt. Next to the tip amount on the receipt, I wrote “Snitches get Stiches”. Then I grabbed Amber’s hand and quickly led her out of the restaurant and through the front doors of the hotel. At the top of the steps, I said “You stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.” I rushed to the Jeep. The camera was still there but was not recording because the battery was dead. I was so excited I forgot about my back. I ran up the steps and showed Amber the camera. “White poodle!” I said.
Part Eight – The Second Night
After dinner I walked Amber to the elevator. As I pressed the elevator button for the second floor, Amber placed her hand over mine.
“I’m really beat. Do you mind if we look at the video tomorrow?” She asked.
“Sure.” I said. Thinking that If I didn’t see anything on the video, I would just forget it.
“I’m on four.” She said.
I pressed the number four button. “Forth floor.” I said, “Spooky”
“What does that mean?” she asked. We had already reached the second floor. The elevator doors opened and I stepped out.
I smiled, held the door open, and said “You are a guest of the most haunted hotel in Colorado, and you are staying on the most haunted floor of that hotel.” I let go of the elevator door and as it was closing, I said “Sleep tight.” Feeling justified with the payback for my sore ribs, I walked back to my room.
Back in room 202, I took the SD card out of the camera, opened my laptop, and began downloading the video. While the file was downloading, I decided to take a quick shower. After the shower, I dressed in a pair of pajamas I got for Christmas a few years ago. I think the pajamas were from one of my daughters, but could not remember which. Shorts and a t-shirt usually works for me, but the room was so nice, I thought it would be more respectable to wear the pajamas. I quickly removed the tags and dressed.
The file had finished loading and my laptop had gone into the sleep mode. I found my reading glasses and signed back on. When I found the video, I hit fast forward on the to get to the place where I saw the white poodle. Finally finding where I thought it might be, I pressed play on the video. The video was showing the drifts on the sides of the road. When I got to the part of the video where the teenagers were carving a peace sign, I slowed the video down. A second later, I saw a white blur moving across the road. I backed up the video and played it at the slowest setting. I watched as the white blur crossed the road. I could not make out exactly what it was, but I could tell it was a running animal. “Proof enough.” I thought to myself. I closed the laptop without saving the video. “I’ll load it again tomorrow.” I thought to myself. Soon after I moved the laptop to the night stand, I fell asleep.
After a few hours, I was roused from sleep by a knock on the door. “What is it now?” I thought as I begrudgingly got out of bed and opened the door. It was Amber. She had bare feet and was dressed in an oriental style silk robe. She did not wait for in invitation, but again walked right into the room. She grabbed my hand and led me towards the bed. “Tell me again how you are done with women.” She said.
The rest of the night was a blur. When I woke up a few hours later, Amber was gone. I thought for a second that the whole thing was a dream, but then I started to feel pain in muscles I had forgotten I had. For some reason, I was sweating profusely. My back was screaming at me and I instinctively reached for the pill bottle on the night stand. It was not there. In a panic, I opened the drawer and felt around for the pill bottle. They were not inside the drawer. I checked the night stand on the other side of the bed. Still no pills. I rolled out of bed and went to see if the pills were in the bathroom. As I turned on the light I noticed a small bag of candy on the side of the sink. Below the bag was a note from Amber, that read, “You did good for an out of shape, old man. I hope to see you in the morning. Sleep tight. Amber.” And then a P.S. “Try one of these instead, I think you will like them.”
I looked at the bag again. There were four different colored pieces of candy in the bag. I absent mindedly poked at the outside of the bag and realized it was gummy candy. Then it dawned me that these were a different kind of edible. I took one from the bag and popped it into my mouth. It tasted sickly sweet. I chewed it as fast as I could, closed the bag and went back to bed.
In thirty minutes, I had forgotten about my back and was asleep.
Around two o’clock in the morning I was jarred awake by another thump coming from under the bed. I turned the nightstand lamp on and immediately thought of the scratches, “Rats.” I thought. After mere seconds another thump, this one so hard I could feel it in my teeth.
At first I didn’t know what to do, I lay there petrified with fear. I was shaken from my inaction by another loud thump. I leapt out of bed, ran into the bathroom, and looked around for something I could use as a weapon. Seeing nothing that would do, I opened the odd little closet. Just my suitcase and some clothes hanging from the hangers on the bar. Then I noticed a lone wire hanger without anything hanging on it. In a rush, I grabbed the hanger and thought of how to make the best use of the flimsy weapon. I straightened out the curved portion at the top and bent the rest of the hanger in half to make a handle. If anything, I could give the rat a good jab in the eye.
I turned to look at the bed. I heard another loud thump and saw the bed jump from the blow. Like a fast drumbeat urging me on, I could hear my heart pounding in my head. I slowly walked toward the bed, and took a step back when I heard another thump. I took another step toward the bed holding the hanger straight out in front of me. I dropped to my knees to peek under the bed. Another thump. “Fuck!” I thought, my hand shaking with fear. I glanced under the bed.
I tried to convince myself that I must be still asleep. I had heard of so called “Night Terrors” that some people had, when they could not tell the difference between the dream and reality. Under the bed were a set of glowing red eyes, staring back at me. I heard a guttural growl and I immediately knew what was under the bed. I pushed myself up and back and promptly fell on my ass. The hanger went skittering out of my hand and across the floor. The white poodle began working its way from under the bed. There was a foamy yellow slobber dripping from the poodle’s mouth.
I stood there petrified as the poodle emerged from under the bed. I could tell it had been scratching at something because it had broken and bloody nails on its front paws. My mind racing, I glanced at the door trying to calculate how fast I could get the door open. As if the poodle heard my thoughts it circled in front of the door blocking my escape. It crouched like a lion, prepared to jump into the attack. Before I could think I held my left arm up, and yelled “Come on fuc…” I did not finish the word because the dog had jumped and latched onto my left wrist with a bone crushing bite. The poodle was uncommonly strong and shook my arm like it was a toy, sending its teeth deeper in my flesh. I punched the dog on the side of its head as hard as I could. Hitting the dog caused its teeth to tear sideways up my arm. I howled in pain. The pain in my arm was causing me to lose consciousness when for some reason my mind went to Tim. I remembered when Tim was alive and I wanted him to let go of one of his toys, I would hold his nose closed. He had to release his bite to breathe. I grabbed the poodle’s nose with my right hand and pinched his nose closed. After a few frothy breaths from the corners of the dog’s mouth, he let go of my arm.
I lunged for the wire hanger, lost my footing, and fell forward. The poodle tried to bite down on my foot, missed and got the bottom of the pajama pants instead. I grabbed the wire hanger and quickly turned toward the dog, hearing my new pajamas tearing as I did. The dog shook the torn cloth from his mouth and prepared to lunge at me again. I jumped to my feet prepared for the next attack. The poodle jumped again, but this time he missed his mark. I side stepped towards the door and sent the end of the wire hanger plunging into the dog’s neck. The entire length of my weapon had impaled the dogs neck. The dog howled in pain and backed away, scratching at his neck with a bloody paw.
I opened the door and ran out of the room and down hall toward the “Steven King” suite. As I looked back, I saw the poodle stagger out of the room and down the hall in the other direction. He paused for a moment in front of the large mirror at the far end of the hall. He looked at my reflection and I heard the low growl again, as if the dog was telling me we had unfinished business. Then the poodle turned and disappeared around the corner. Sensing the irony, I glanced down the right hall at room 217. “Fucking Cujo.” I mumbled to myself.
My left wrist was leaking blood into the carpet. I had to stop the bleeding, so I stumbled back to my room. Finally, back in room 202, I closed and locked the door. In the bathroom I turned on the faucet and held my left wrist under the water. My wrist was in shreds. I could see pink bone through many of the wounds. I grabbed a hand towel from the towel bar and wrapped my wrist with the towel. I looked back up at the iron towel bar. “Was that here before?” I thought, and wondered why I didn’t break it from the wall for my weapon. The first towel was already soaked in blood, so I grabbed another towel and wrapped it over the first. Feeling dizzy I decided to try to get to the front desk so I could get some help. I slowly walked out of the room and towards the first floor and the front desk.
Part Nine – Night Terrors
Holding the towel tight on my wrist I went down the steps of the grand staircase as fast as I could without passing out. At the bottom of the staircase I turned right toward the front desk. Standing in front of the desk, talking to the clerk, was the janitor I had seen yesterday. He held a mop and next to him was a pail of dirty mop water. I could smell the mop water, it smelled of old dirty wax. A little like the Mop and Glow, I used to use on my first job. When I was in eighth grade I helped a barber friend clean his shop every weekend. Moping the floor with Mop and Glow was one of my jobs. As I approached the desk, the janitor backed away from the counter and nearly fell over the pail.
I turned toward the clerk and told him that I needed help. The clerk came from behind the counter and he and the janitor helped me to one of the overstuffed chairs by the fire.
“I’m in room 202.” I explained sinking into the chair. “I have just been attacked by a dog.”
The clerk glanced at the towel covering my wrist. The janitor grabbed a filthy rag from his back pocket and started wiping his hands. Then he reached for my arm with his dirty hands. I turned away from him so he could not touch my arm. “I think you might want to call an ambulance.” I managed to say, through the pain. I removed the one of towels from my wrist, there was no blood. I removed the other towel, still no blood. Both towels were dry. My vision started to blur as I looked down at my wrist.
When I woke up a few hours later I was laying on a cot in the room behind the check in desk. The room looked like it was the place the clerk settled when he had nothing to do. There was a chair, a couple of lockers, and a small television in the corner of the room. There was an infomercial on the TV, talking about some special type of green frying pan. The clerk and the janitor were standing over me.
“How are you feeling bud?” the clerk asked. I could tell he was high. He sounded vaguely like the Sean Penn character in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.
“You gave us quite a stir.” Said the Janitor.
I held up my left wrist and looked at it closely. There was nothing there. No bite marks, no puncture wounds, not even a scratch. “What the fuck?” I said under my breath. I remembered the pain quite clearly. I propped myself up on an elbow, still staring at my left wrist. I finally pushed myself up into a sitting position on the edge of the cot. A cold wet rag fell from my forehead, into my lap. I held my left wrist up again. Convincing myself that there was nothing there, I stood up, still a bit shaky I asked, “What time is it?”
The clerk looked at his watch and said, “It’s uh…six o’clock.” He said it like he was trying to convince himself that it was really six o’clock. “Hey man.” He slurred, “Do I still need to call an ambulance?”
“Maybe for yourself.” I thought, and then out loud, “No, no ambulance needed, I guess.” My mind was spinning and I just could not believe I had dreamt the whole encounter. “No such thing as ghosts.” I said to myself, “There must be another explanation.”
“For what son?” The janitor asked. I looked at the janitor and wondered why he was calling me son. He couldn’t have been much older than I was.
“Never mind.” I said. “You guys just forget the whole thing. I must be out of it.”
“No problem.” Said the clerk, “It’s forgotten.”
“Sure.” Said the janitor. “You must have been dreaming. You know my uncle killed his first wife while he was sleeping.”
I looked at him, confused.
“Yep, stabbed her in his sleep. Got off too.” He added. “Said it was something called Night Terrors. He’s dead now.” His voice trailing off, loosing himself in a thought. “Yep, said he was killing a monster.”
He took his dirty rag out of his back pocket and began wiping his hands again. “I’m going to head back to my room.” I told them. “Thanks for taking care of me guys.”
They both followed me out of the room and into the lobby. “Man, you take it easy.” Said the janitor, still wiping his hands. “Them night terrors ain’t nothing to play with.” I did not turn around, but kept walking. Before I knew it, I had passed the grand staircase and had walked all the way to the other side of the room. I was standing at the entrance of the grand ballroom. I stared blankly at the grand piano sitting on a small stage at the far side of the room. As I turned back to the grand staircase, I saw a poster on the open door of the ballroom. Séance Tonight, it read. Grand Ballroom, Main Lobby. Twenty-five dollars. Come join us for Sir Ivan Geoffrey, Medium. The show starts at 9:00. The lettering of the poster was meant to signify something spooky. It looked like a poster for a cheesy horror movie. In the middle of the poster, a tall, heavy set man, with a handlebar moustache was striking a magician pose. I walked back to my room in a trance.
The bed had obviously been slept in, other than that there was nothing out of place in the room. Not a drop of blood anywhere to be found. Nothing had been disturbed. I heard water running, at first I thought it was coming from the waterfall outside my window. I walked into the bathroom. Except for the missing towels nothing in the bathroom was out of place. I turned the water off and walked back toward the bed scanning the room for my wire hanger weapon. It was gone. I smelled that dirty mop water in the janitor’s pail. The smell made me dizzy, I fell on the bed and passed out.
I woke up at noon and spent the rest of the day in my room. I forgot all about my reservations for the Rocky Mountain Rush tour. The phone rang several times during the day and I remember hearing someone knocking on the door. It all sounded like background noise to me. Like it was off somewhere in the far distance. I was busy searching for answers on my laptop.
Night Terrors is a sleep disorder. According to several web sites, this disorder is more common in children than adults. It seemed like Night Terrors occurred because of a disruption in REM, Rapid Eye Movement, sleep. Night Terrors can cause a person to be inconsolable, like they are having a panic attack.
This did not feel like what I was experiencing, it was close, but not an exact fit. Researching Night Terrors, led me to two more disorders called parasomnia and somnambulism. In layman’s terms this is unusual movement during sleep and sleep walking. In adults, alcohol, sedatives, and other medications can also cause sleep walking. My mind immediately went to Vicodin. Were these pills causing me to have nightmares and walk around in my sleep? I was not convinced. Besides, Amber had my pills.
It was seven o’clock when I finally closed my laptop. My eyes were tired from staring at the computer screen. I got up, took a shower, and dressed. My mind drifting to the visit by Amber and thinking that she must have been trying to get back at her husband. She was much too young and way out of my league. Even so, the slow creep of hope tried to crawl into my brain. “Hope is for the young.” I told myself.
Soon after my shower there was another knock on the door. I went to the door, it was Amber. She did not look happy.
I opened the door. She looked like she had been crying. “Hey Amber.” I said. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been cooped up in here all day.”
“Can I come in?” She asked. I knew she must have been really upset, because normally she would have just walked in the room without an invitation.
“Of course, you can.” I said. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Are you?” she asked. “Really?”
“Yes, I am.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the room. Forgetting everything I had decided in the shower, I kissed her.
“I’ve been trying to talk to you all day.” She said. “I had to go on that stupid tour alone. For some reason, I thought you would be there with me.”
“I have a confession.” I said, “I reschedule the tour, same as you did. It’s just that something happened last night that kind of freaked me out.” She looked dejected. “Not you, Amber, that was great.”
She smiled, “Then what?”
I told her all about the sound under the bed, the dog attack, and the disappearance of the wound on my wrist. She listened in silence and did not respond right away.
“You think you have this sleep disorder called Night Terror?” she asked
“Not exactly.” I said. “But close. Look.” I opened my laptop and went to the web page about sleepwalking. She dropped her purse on the bed and read for a few minutes.
“It makes sense. But somehow I get the feeling that this is not quite it.” She finally said. “On Trail Ridge Road, you saw that white dog while you were wide awake.
“I know.” I said, “There has to be some sort of explanation, and right now this is the best fit.”
She stared off across the room, lost in thought. I noticed her eyes had locked in on something. On the bathroom counter was the action camera I had strapped to my Jeep. “Did you look at the video?” She asked.
“I can’t find the SD card.” I said “I’ve been looking for it all day. It’s not in the camera or the laptop.”
“Did you look under the bed?” She asked.
“Only place I didn’t look.” I said. “I couldn’t bring myself to look under there again.”
She had been sitting on the edge of the bed and suddenly dropped down and disappeared under the bed. “Careful.” I said, nervously.
She was under the bed for nearly a minute.
“Gross.” She said, and then “Got it!”
She crawled from under the bed and sat on the bet next to me. She looked a little disheveled and had a few random dust bunnies stuck in her hair. I picked them out of her hair as she said. “Ok, number one, what is that sticky stuff under the bed?” She asked as she held up her left arm. She had a foamy yellow substance on her forearm.
I went to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth. As I walked back to wipe her arm and she added. “Number two, what are those scratches under the bed? And don’t tell me it was a rat. There has never been a rat that big. I wiped the slobber off her arm. “And third, what’s on this SD card?” She held up the SD card and blew off the dust.
“I’ll show you.” I said as I took the SD card and placed it in the laptop, remembering that I had already downloaded the file, making Amber’s trip under the bed unnecessary.
I fast forwarded the video to the teenagers and their peace sign, and then slowed the video down. I could see her large eyes widen as she saw the white shape cross the road in front of the Jeep.
“Wait, back it up a minute.” She said. “Try to pause it when I tell you.”
I backed the video up and pressed play again. When the edge of the white blur hit the right edge of the screen, she yelled, “Pause it!” I pressed the pause button and the white blur was captured perfectly in the middle of the screen.
“That’s you’re fucking white poodle, right there!” covered her mouth with one hand and pointed at the screen with the other. How did I not see that?” her words were muffled by her hand.
She got up from the bed and began pacing the room, shaking her arms at her side. “This is freaking me out, Ken.” She said nervously, “This has nothing to do with some bullshit dream problem.”
She turned the laptop around so she could see the screen again.
“It does look like some sort of animal.” I said. “I thought maybe a Bighorn sheep?”
“Bullshit.” She said. “That’s a white fucking poodle. The sooner you wrap your head around it, the sooner we can try to figure this freaky shit out.”
I had not heard her curse this much. I guessed she cursed a lot when she got excited. In a way, I thought it was cute, like when my daughter first said “Shit.” She was three, we were in McDonalds and they had forgotten to give her a Happy Meal toy.
Amber’s pointed to the picture of the two ladies walking the white poodle. “Has this always been here?” She asked.
“It was here when I checked in.” I said.
“This is not a coincidence, Kenneth.” She said firmly. She was lost in thought and then, “When I came back from the tour I noticed them setting up for some sort of show in the grand ballroom. Some guy called, Sir Geoffrey. Let’s try to talk to him before the show tonight.”
I chuckled at the silly thought. “Sure thing, Ambrosia.” I said, in a poor attempt to counter the motherly “Kenneth”.
She pulled my Vicodin bottle from the front pocket of her jeans and placed it back on the nightstand. “Just remember, honey”, she said in her Texas twang. “These things will kill you faster than a rabid poodle.” She said nervously laughing with me.
We had an hour to kill before the show. Amber kicked her shoes off, slid back on the bed and held her arms out toward me. I went to her, kissing her hard on the mouth. She gently pushed me away. “I’m going to need you for longer than an hour, big fella.” I rolled next to her and as she raised her head I instinctively put my arm underneath her. We laid there in silence for nearly an hour. I kept thinking about that yellow slobber on Amber’s arm.
Part Ten – The Extra Large Medium
At a quarter to nine, we started dressing to go down stairs. “I’m not sure this makes a difference.” I said. “You don’t know this about me, but I don’t believe in this stuff. Ghosts, and seances all seem a little far-fetched to me.”
“Then why this hotel?” She asked. Amber was putting on makeup in the bathroom and looking at me in the reflection. It reminded me of the night before and the poodle looking back at me before he disappeared.
“I don’t know. I’m a big Steven King fan, so maybe that’s the reason.” I explained. “I’m thinking about retiring around here. I love the air and the mountain view. I figure Colorado is not a bad place to live out the rest of your days.”
She smiled at me in the mirror and we spent the next five minutes in silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but one where we were both in deep thought.
When we were presentable, we walked downstairs with hopes of meeting with Sir Geoffrey before his show.
“My brain hurts.” Amber said as we were walking down the stairs.
“I know just what you mean.” I answered.
The ticket counter looked to be the same podium I saw downstairs on my first night of exploring. Beside the podium was a large round table with a black tablecloth. In the middle of the table was a visitor’s register. It was and was about four inches thick and bound in leather. On the left side of the table, closest to the podium, were two tickets. On the right side of the table was a stack of eleven by sixteen posters. The posters were exact copies of the one I saw last night on the door of the ballroom.
Sir Ivan Geoffrey was nowhere to be found. I noticed a young woman walking behind the podium. She was an attractive woman with pale skin and straight black hair that came to just below her shoulders. She wore a form fitting black dress that went to the floor. The “Elvira” look she was obviously shooting for had hit the target.
“Is Sir Geoffrey around?” I asked.
She responded in a thick accent that seemed to be from an eastern bloc country, possibly Russia or the Ukraine. I smiled as she spoke and my mind went from Elvira to Natasha, one of the villains of the Rocky and Bullwinkle show.
“I am sorry, but Sir Geoffrey does not speak to anyone before the show.” She paused as if in thought, and then “The show is about two hours in length. You are welcome to come back then to meet Sir Geoffrey.”
Amber looked up at me and said, “We might as well catch the show.” She pulled a small wad of cash from her purse, peeled off a fifty, and threw it on the table.
Natasha grabbed a cashbox from underneath the table, placed the fifty in the empty container, and placed the cashbox back under the table. “Sorry about that.” She said. “Most people sign up and pay downstairs, before the show. Do not worry, we still have one table available. You make it a sold-out show.” As she handed Amber the two remaining tickets, I noticed Natasha’s fingernails were painted black in the typical “Goth” style. “There is a two-drink minimum and if you stop by after the show, Ivan will be signing posters for everyone.”
On the stage that supported the grand piano, they had placed a portable spot light. There was a makeshift black curtain on the one side of the room. The curtain was hanging from a bar suspended from the ceiling. There were several small tables scattered randomly throughout the room. Each table was decorated with a black tablecloth and a cheap looking black candelabra adorned with red candles. The lights had been dimmed slightly enhance the spooky effect of the room. There was a single empty table in the back of the room. As we approached the table, I was surprised to see our names on the place card sitting on the table. “Good one.” I thought as I pulled the chair out for Amber.
I moved my chair closer to Amber’s side and sat down next to her so we were both facing the curtain. “Better.” She said smiling.
I glanced around the room. “Technology.” I thought. Every single person in the room was looking down at their cellphone. “You know if half of these people were as important as they think they are, they’d all be millionaires.” I said. I stood up, took my cellphone from my front pocket, and switched it off.
“I don’t even have mine.” Amber said, “I must have left it back in my room. By the way, after the show let’s exchange cell numbers. I think we know each other well enough.”
“I don’t know.” I replied, “You look kind of sketchy to me.” I lowered my arm to my side to shield my bruised ribs from the coming attack.
“What?” She said, “Afraid of a little girl?”
It was just then that Natasha appeared at the table for our drink order. “Two Jack and Coke’s.” Amber quickly said, without waiting for Natasha to ask. “Two drink minimum.” Amber continued, “Might as well get that covered.” Amber’s mood had suddenly changed.
“I’ll have the same.” I told Natasha.
“Four Jack and Cokes?” Natasha said, as if questioning the order.
“That’s right.” Amber said curtly.
As Natasha went to the next table I asked. “What’s up with that?”
“I get tired of the same old racket.” She said. “A two-drink minimum and I guarantee Sir Geoffrey will remind us to tip our waitress. Hell, this show should be free with the price of the room.”
“What’s the big deal?” I asked, “Why all of this sudden concern about money?”
“I guess I’m feeling a little guilty for taking all of Bryan’s money.” She replied, “I started thinking about it after, well, after last night. I haven’t been myself since I left Texas. I’m finding myself doing things that I would normally never do. Like sleeping with a man, I just met.”
“I feel a little guilty about that.” I told her, “I hope you don’t think I was trying to take advantage of the situation.”
“I came to your room, remember.” She said, “You’re a man, you really didn’t have a choice.”
“Really?” I said.
The waitress dropped our drinks off. Amber took one of the glasses and drained it.
“Misery loves company? I asked, “That sort of thing?”
“It’s different from that, more spiritual I think.” She explained. “Like we were supposed to meet. I mean why else would you be walking the grounds of The Stanley Hotel in the early hours of the morning? Why did we have the same tour scheduled? I don’t know.
“I’ve been thinking too much lately. But I have made one decision, well two decisions. I am going to go back to Texas and file for divorce and I’m going to give him his half of the money. And then…”
She was interrupted again as Natasha appeared in front of the black curtain. The room was suddenly darker which gave a ghostly glow to the faces at the tables. Each reflecting the flickering candle light. A cheap, but effective way to spook up the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re so sorry to keep you waiting.” She said. “Direct from a two month stay at Ameristar Casino in Vicksburg, Mississippi, I give you Sir Ivan Geoffrey.”
Most of the crowd giggled at the mention of a casino in Mississippi. I think they thought she was making a joke. Just then the spotlight came on and Sir Ivan Geoffrey walked from behind the curtain.
Sir Ivan Geoffrey was even larger than his photograph. He stood close to seven feet tall and weighed, probably in the range of four hundred pounds. He was not necessarily fat, but looked thick and solid. He had a big barrel chest and his hands were as big as baseball mitts. He wore a black silk shirt and black trousers. In his right hand, he held a pack of playing cards. The cards were dwarfed by his huge hand. “Let’s see him try to shuffle those cards.” I thought. I didn’t even notice that he had shaved off his mustache.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the show.” He started. “I’m sure each of you came here tonight thinking you knew what was going to happen, but I think you will be surprised.” Suddenly from his left hand he threw confetti in the air. The confetti flashed with fire for a fraction of a second and disappeared. The crowd clapped with enthusiasm. He had impressed them with cheap stage effects.
“Some of you are here as skeptics.” He continued, “Some of you will not change your mind no matter what you hear or what you see, but,” He paused and raised the index finger of his huge hand. “If I convince just one of these skeptics, I will consider this show a success.”
“Jesus.” I whispered to Amber, “This guy is good, he already read my mind.” She threw an elbow, but I successfully blocked it with my arm.
“Look around you ladies and gentlemen.” Sir Geoffrey continued, “At least twenty five percent of your neighbors will not believe me, even as I promise them that if they can prove me wrong, I will refund their money.”
I finished the first of the two drinks and lifted the other to my lips.
“I like to start every show with a simple card trick.” He said. He gave the deck of cards to a woman in the first row of tables. “Please shuffle these cards for me. Shuffle them good.”
She took the cards, shuffled them, and gave them back to him with a timid smile. He towered over her like a giant and as he took the cards with one hand he grasped her hand with the other. Then the giant bent down and gently kissed her on her hand. “Thank you, madam.” He said.
“A gentle giant.” I thought. He had not done one thing, but somehow, he had completely won the crowd.
“People in the back row.” He said, “I know why you chose those seats.” He walked down the middle of the room, toward the back. When he reached the back of the room, he turned back to the crowd. He was standing in front of the black curtains again. Somehow the black curtains had been moved from the front of the room, to the back of the room without anyone noticing. “Now if everyone will turn your chairs to face me.” He continued. “My first trick.” He laughed, “The first shall be last and the last shall be first.” The crowd clapped with approval.
“Damn it.” I thought, we were now sitting directly in front of him. He seemed even larger than before.
He looked at Amber. “Young lady, will you kindly take a card from anywhere in the deck.”
Amber blushed as he fanned the cards out on the table face down in front of her. She took a card from the middle of the deck. She immediately showed me the card. It was the ace of spades. “Figures.” I thought. “I’ll bet all these cards are the same.”
As if reading my mind, the giant grabbed the deck, turned it over and fanned the cards in front of me, face up. All the cards were different. “Satisfied?” he asked. I felt significantly shamed, but then he added, “It’s the skeptics that keep me going. They are the reason I do what I do. Let’s hear it for our first skeptic of the night.” There was a mixture of boos and applause from the crowd.
“Nice.” I said, giving him credit for making me feel even smaller.
He smiled and picked up the deck of cards. As he held the deck of cards out towards her, he said, “Amber, will you please put the card on top of the deck?”
“Amber?” I thought. “Jesus, this guy has it all figured out.” I did not remember giving anyone our names, and then I realized that because of his trick with the curtain, all the place cards were now facing him.
Amber placed the card on top of the deck. He turned his huge head toward me and whispered. “She looks like an Amber.” He walked to the next table. “Sir, will you kindly take the deck and shuffle them for me?”
The man took the deck and began shuffling the cards. I could tell Amber was a little nervous by the giant man towering above her. She inched her chair even little closer to mine and I jumped a little when I felt her hand on my thigh. I moved my hand from the top of the table and grabbed her hand. It felt cold in my grasp.
With her other hand, she grabbed her second drink and drained it. “I am freaking out again.” She whispered. “Feel.” She lifted my hand and placed it on her throat. Her pulse was racing. “See?”
As the man at the next table continued shuffling the deck of cards, the giant said. “I know some of you thought you were coming to a séance tonight.” He paused for effect. “Maybe you thought we’d all be sitting around a huge table, holding hands and chanting.” He smiled. “Sorry if I disappoint, but this is not that type of séance.” He took the deck of cards from the man. “I don’t speak to the dead.” He said as he held the deck of cards toward the audience. “For those that I speak with, are not truly dead.” He wiggled the fingers of his other hand. “They are lingering spirits. Spirits you cannot see, but let me assure you, their souls are as alive as you or me.” A card started slowly rising from the middle of the deck. As it got higher he turned the deck towards Amber. “Is this your card Amber?”
“Yes.” She whispered.
“Can you say that a little louder?” He asked.
“Yes!” She yelled, a little too loud.
I grabbed her hand again as the audience broke into a huge round of applause. “I’ve seen this cheap trick before.” I thought.
When Amy and me lived in Florida, one of our favorite things to do was to sit in a sidewalk bar in downtown Disney and people watch. I used to crack her up as I pointed out celebrity doppelganger’s in the crowd. Downtown Disney also had several unique shops lined up along the walkway. One of the shops was a magic shop. We stopped in the magic shop once and I saw the clerk performing a similar act with a five-dollar deck of trick cards.
Again, the Giant read my thoughts, placed the deck of cards in the pack, and tossed the deck of cards in the air. The deck landed, perfectly centered, in front of me. “Skeptic.” I heard him spit through his closed teeth. I quickly opened the deck and took out the cards. As I fanned the cards in my hands, I realized that there was not anything unusual about these cards. Typical Bicycle playing cards.
The rest of the giant’s act was a thoroughly convincing series of interactions with the different members of the audience. It was a unique act. He didn’t go through the normal theatrics of closing his eyes and placing his hands on his head. There was no spooky music or fog machine. Each conversation was as normal as any you might have with a stranger.
“Who is Justin?” he asked the crowd. A young man raised his hand. “Justin, when you were nine years old you lost your favorite aunt. Am I right?”
“Yes.” Justin replied.
“Justin your aunt wants you to know that you were also her favorite nephew.” He continued, “She told me that a dark soul has convinced you that the campfire you made in your aunt’s back yard had started the fire.” The giant spoke as clearly as he could with no judgement in his voice.
“Justin.” He said, “Your aunt tells me that the fire was started by an electrical short in the basement. She says that you have been carrying this guilt for much too long. She wants you to move on.” And finally, “Your aunt said to tell you there is a seat for everyone at God’s table.”
Justin could not speak right away. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he whispered to his partner. “I’ll tell you all about it.”
“It’s ok.” Whispered the man said sitting to Justin’s right. “We’ll talk.”
Each of the stories were unique, most not as dramatic as Justin’s. Some people laughed, and some of them cried. The giant never called on me. The giant never called on Amber. We sat amazed and did not care.
Part Eleven – In the Cave of the Giant.
After the show, Amber and I waited until the entire room was cleared out. Sir Geoffrey was sitting at the table outside the doors and signing posters for each person leaving the room, so our exit was delayed.
“I’ll give him this.” I told Amber, “He puts on one hell of a show.”
Amber did not reply right away. It looked like she was lost in thought again. “You OK?” I finally asked.
“I’m having an internal debate with myself.” She said. “I’m seriously thinking about packing up and leaving right now.”
“What?” I asked.
“Shit’s been abnormal since I got here.” She said, “There’s your whole white poodle incident and now this freak.” She said as she nodded towards the door. “Something is seriously out of order with this man.”
“Well, whatever it is, he puts on a hell of a good show.” I repeated. “I can’t say how he does it, it’s pretty convincing, and I don’t believe any of it.”
“But he knew everyone’s name.” She said.
I told her about him changing the direction of the room and why the place cards were facing him. “Damn it, I should have guessed.” She said. “I’m not usually that dense.”
“Maybe I’m more of a skeptic than you are.” I said. “Since I found out about Amy’s affair, I have been overly suspicious of everyone. I am always questioning the motives behind what people do.”
“Does that go for me too?” She asked
“Kind of.” I stuttered my response, “I mean, it’s, it’s nothing personal. When you think about it we really don’t know each other.”
“I know you’re right.” She said, “Here I am thinking about running off, and asking you to trust me at the same time.”
We were closer to the table where Sir Geoffrey was sitting. Justin was directly in front of us. Sir Geoffrey whispered to him just loud enough for me to here, “You know who the dark soul is, don’t you? He asked.
“I know.” Justin said, “She let me carry this false guilt for twenty-five years. I hate her for that.”
“Just remember, Justin.” Said Sir Geoffrey. “If you can forgive her, you can forgive anyone. Isn’t that what it’s all about?”
“I’ll think about it.” Justin answered, “It’s going to take a lot of soul searching. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Sign my book and leave a nice note, that’s all the thanks I need.” Sir Geoffrey replied.
Justin opened Sir Geoffrey’s book and wrote for several seconds. When he was done, he put down the pen. Sir Geoffrey turned the book around so he could read what Justin had just written. “Thank you for the kind words Justin. It was nice to meet you.” He then moved the red ribbon to the next page and closed the book.
Finally, we were standing directly in front of Sir Geoffrey. “I’m in room 306.” he said, “I need to run an errand and I’ll meet you there in one hour.”
“Sure.” Amber offered, “One hour.”
We walked up the stairs and back to room 202. Amber immediately kicked off her shoes and laid on the end of the bed flat on her back. “Thank God.” She said, “I’m just glad I don’t have to look at Sir Geoffrey for an hour. That man is huge.” She rolled on her side and propped herself up on an elbow.
I sat in one of the arm chairs facing the bed. “I feel like I have to explain.” I told her. “It’s not that I don’t want to trust you. I am scared that I have lost the ability to trust anyone. Hell, I don’t even trust myself.”
“I get it Ken.” She said, “I feel the same way. I guess we all have the ability to hurt the people we care about. It’s all about expectations and if we can live up to those expectations.” She rolled on her back. “I just wish I knew how this is all going to play out.”
“We all do.” I said as I walked to the bathroom sink and turned on the water. “Let’s just agree to enjoy each other’s company as long as we can. Ok?” I splashed cold water on my face. It was eleven thirty already and I was preparing for a long night. “Ok?” I asked again.
Amber did not respond and for a moment I thought I had made her cry again. I walked over to her and noticed that she had fallen asleep. I decided to leave her where she was and sat back in the arm chair to think. I stared at the photographs on the wall. “What made the photo of the two women and the poodle significant?” I asked myself. Then my eyes went to the photo of the train. “That’s right Ken.” I said to myself, “You better get this train back on track and you only have two more days.”
I decided to visit Sir Geoffrey alone. Amber looked so peaceful, I could not bear to wake her. I closed the door as quietly as I could, then started up the stairs to the third floor. On the third floor, which looked exactly like the second floor, I found room 306 and knocked on the door. The giant opened the door and beckoned me into the room.
The room looked comfortable, like someone had lived in the room for a long time. There were books stacked all over the room and two large trunks at the foot of the bed. Sir Geoffrey walked to a unique looking chair. It was wider and sturdier than the rest of the furniture in the room. He sat down in the chair and pointed for me to sit in the arm chair.
“Special chair.” He said, and pointed to the empty arm chair. “I got stuck in one of those once. Yep, stuck on my ass so tight that I had to bust the damn thing to get it off. Ever since then good old Stanley lets me bring my own chair.”
Before I had a chance to ask, “These books.” He said as he waved his huge hand over his head. “Everywhere I go, they go.”
I picked up one of the books from the stack to my right. It looked expensive and had some strange words on the cover. “Latin?” I asked.
“You got that right, Ken.” He said, “Can you read Latin?”
I chuckled at the suggestion, “No, I can’t read Latin, just took a wild guess. Or maybe I sensed it?” I said wiggling my fingers in the air.
“Are you mocking me Ken?” he asked. “I know you are skeptical and I respect that. So, by all rights, you should be respectful of me. Do we agree?”
“Yes.” I answered, “It’s just that it’s been a long three days, Ivan.”
I heard the key unlocking the door from the outside. The door opened and Natasha entered carrying an expensive looking bottle of scotch.
“Bartender’s trying to fuck me.” she said, as she walked to the bathroom. She had lost her Russian accent. She retrieved some glasses from the bathroom and started pouring the scotch.
“You and I both know that’s never going to happen Honey” Said Sir Geoffrey, “Ken, meet miss Mary Jane Fielding. My beautiful daughter.”
She passed the drinks around and with a flair took off her wig and bowed. “At your service, Ken.” She said as she tossed the wig on the bed.
“Good job.” I told her, “You had me completely fooled. You’re from somewhere in the mid-west, I would guess. Right?”
“Good old Detroit Michigan.” She offered sipping her drink and sitting on the corner of the bed.
Ivan was watching silently with a slight grin on his face.
“Ivan, you’ve got a great act. I don’t know how you did most of…what you did. I particularly liked the whole room reversal trick.
“You had the whole room thinking some spirit told you their names. All you had to do is look at the place cards.”
“Good for you Ken.” Said Ivan, “You are pretty observant. Of course, you know my name is not Sir Ivan Geoffrey.” He smiled.
“Sounds good though.” I admitted to him. “Maybe a little pretentious, but hey, in your line of work.” I raised my drink to him and he responded in kind.
“Ken, my name is William Fielding, Bill for short. It’s nice to meet you.”
I walked to Bill and offered my hand. He grabbed my hand with one of his huge mitts and shook it hard. “Nice to meet you Bill.” I said.
Mary Jane retrieved the bottle from the bathroom and poured another shot in each of our glasses. “Get it from the bartender. It’s about five hundred dollars a bottle. He sells it to me at cost.” He continued, “Of course he probably has to cook the books a little. I’d hate for him to get caught. I’m hooked on the damn stuff.”
I sat back down on the edge of the arm chair. “I’m going to my room, Dad.” Mary Jane said. “I’m beat.” She poured a little more scotch in her glass and set the bottle down next to the sink. “Ken.” She said on her way to the door. “It was nice to meet you. Watch out for him.” She pointed at Bill. “He’ll screw with your head if you let him.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, Honey.” Bill said, trying to hurry her out of the room. “Good night.” When the door closed and Mary Jane was gone, he said, “I’m afraid she’s hooked on the scotch too.”
I took a sip of scotch. “I understand.” I said, “It’s very good.”
“Let’s get to it Ken.” Said Bill, ” You let me tell you a few things and then you tell me if I’m right. Ok?”
“Go for it Bill.” I answered.
“You think I can answer some questions for you. You’ve had some unusual experiences in the past few nights, and you think you are seeing things that are not really there.” He said. “You and Amber have really just met, but with you two there’s something more than meets the eye. Am I right so far Ken?” He took a large swallow of his scotch.
“Pretty close.” I said.
“Close my ass.” He replied. “You and I both know that I am exactly right.” He pointed a huge finger at me and smiled. “You think you are dreaming, but you’re not sure. Either way, you are hoping I can tell you what this all means.” He continued, “It’s getting late, so why don’t you tell me your story and we’ll go from there. Ok Ken?”
I told him the whole story. I told him about seeing the white poodle and how there is a photo on my wall of a white poodle. I told him about meeting Amber and about the drive on Trial Ridge Road. Finally, I told him about the attack and how I had no visible marks on my wrist.
“Whew.” He said, when I had finished. “That’s some story.”
I realized I was standing and did not remember getting out of the chair. I sat back down.
“Take it easy, Ken.” He continued, “I’m going to help you. First, I’ll tell you what I know and I’ll tell you how I know it. Then I will do some research and we will meet tomorrow at noon. You can buy me lunch for my trouble.”
“Sounds fair to me.” I said.
“First.” He began, “I know about the white poodle and I know about the attack because the night janitor has been telling everyone in the hotel about the crazy man in room 202. The guests of the hotel love it. It adds to the whole haunted hotel story. At least they have a story to tell, even if it’s not their own. I know about the photographs in your room, because those very same photographs are in every room on the second floor. Did the photo of the white poodle trigger something inside you?” He asked rhetorically, I don’t know the answer to that yet. But Ken, I can give you comfort with this, and I hope you can get over your skepticism enough to believe me. Can you Ken?”
“I’ll try.” I said absently. I was lost in the thought that the whole hotel knew my story.
“I think what you are experiencing is real. I don’t believe for one minute you are dreaming any of this.” He said.
He could sense my relief as I slid back in the chair.
“You and I are going to get some much-needed sleep tonight.” He went on, “I want you to commit at least eight hours to total rest. Part of why you are having problems is because you haven’t slept much in the past few days. Now go back to your room, wake Amber, do what you must do, and go to sleep.”
I was listening to him like I was in a trance. He had a way of talking that made you feel at ease. “Thank you, Bill, I really appreciate it, and I promise you, I will try to get some good sleep tonight.” I stood up to walk to the door.
“I will meet you in the lobby at noon.” Bill said, “I’m hoping to have some more answers for you.”
As I walked out of the room, he said “And Ken, no pills tonight.”
I left still thinking about what he had said. “How could he know about the pills?” I thought.
When I got back to my room, Amber was gone. This time the note was on the bed. The note had a phone number and said for me to text her when I got back to the room.
Part Twelve – A Good Night’s Sleep
I sent Amber a text and was waiting on a reply when I heard a knock on my door. Thinking it was Amber, I opened the door without looking.
“I have been waiting…” I started to say, but it was not Amber. It was Natasha (Mary Jane). She did not invite herself in and I was not about to invite her in. I was waiting for word from Amber and it would be like her to just show up without texting me back.
“Hi, Ken. Can I come in?” Natasha asked.
“Damn it!” I thought, “You know you’re making a mistake, Ken.” “Sure.” I told Natasha, and stood aside so she could walk in the room. One of the arm chairs was positioned so you could see it through the open door. I offered Natasha that chair and pulled the other chair close to her and left the door open. Now if someone approached the door they could see both of us clearly. I little trick I learned from reading a Billy Graham book a few years earlier. Billy Graham was one of the few pastors of his age that never had a sex scandal. When asked about it, Billy Graham explained that he never took a one on one meeting with a woman behind closed doors. It seemed to work for him, hopefully it would work for me.
“I won’t take much of your time.” She said. “I just really wanted to explain some things about my father, and maybe offer a small warning.”
“Ok.” I said, a little confused.
She was still wearing her long black dress, but had brushed her hair and washed most of the makeup from her face. I also noticed her fingernails were no longer black. “I paint them with acrylic paint before each show.” She said, seeing that I had noticed them. “I would never wear black fingernails. I hate that Goth look. But, it adds a little something to the show.”
“Sold out tonight.” I offered, “Can’t get much better than that.”
“Yeah, that was great, but it doesn’t happen that often. Tonight, we made just over a grand, including tips. After the hotel get it’s twenty five percent cut, it barely cover’s expenses.” She explained.
“And the two- drink minimum?” I asked.
“Every cent goes to the hotel bar.” She said. “It’s part of the deal.”
“Natasha, it sounds like you need to renegotiate the contract.” I told her.
“Natasha? she asked, “Did you just call me Natasha?”
“Sorry about that.” I laughed, “It’s just that when I saw you at the ticket counter, I thought you looked like Natasha from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show.”
“I think that was a little before my time” She said, “But I like it, I don’t have a stage name yet. Natasha…” She said as if she was trying on the name to see if it fit. “I don’t know why the money bothers me so much.” She replied, “Dad is wealthy, we really don’t need the money.”
“Then, why do it?” I asked.
“I know you don’t believe it, but what he does is real.” She said, “Except for the card trick and a few special effects, the rest of the show is authentic. He’s had this gift since he was thirteen years old.”
“Ok.” I nodded my head urging her on.
“He was a normal sized kid when he was younger. When he hit thirteen, he started to grow. His parent’s, who were also wealthy, took him to every specialist they could think of, but no one could explain it. They normally ended saying that he was just going to be a big man.”
“And the whole, speaking to spirits, deal?” I asked.
“That came with the growth spurt.” She went on, “At first he kept it to himself, but when he realized he could help people with his gift, he told his parents. That was a disaster. They told him that if he kept up the act they would put him away.”
“I’m assuming he isn’t close with his parents now, right?” I asked, trying to keep her talking.
“They are both dead.” She said, “But his mom and dad were around long enough to witness things with their own eyes. So, they were actually closer in the end.” She paused, “Sometimes I catch him talking to himself, but I think he is really talking to them.”
“Your warning?” I said.
“You like to get to the point, don’t you?” She said, “Oh, you’re expecting a visitor. That’s why you left the door open. Smart.”
“She’s been hurt before.” I explained, “Why risk it?”
“I won’t take any more of your time. She said as she stood up and walked to the open doorway, “I just wanted you to know that when dad gets his teeth into something like this, he won’t let it go until he’s figured it out. He’s going to be getting very personal with you. This is not the first time he’s been asked for help.”
She stood up and walked toward the open doorway. “Thanks for the information.” I said as she walked out the door, “Now I know what to expect. And don’t worry I’m an open book, I have very little ego left.” Then I asked, “By the way, how did he do that card trick?”
“Magic.” She smiled, and turned around the corner to go down the staircase. As she walked away she held both arms out to her sides, as if she were responding to a cheering crowd, and I heard her say, “Natasha”.
I closed the door and checked my cell phone. Amber had sent a text ten minutes ago.
“Want some company.” She had texted.
I texted back joking, “Who is this and how did you get this number?”
She quickly texted back, “LOL, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
I slept like a baby the rest of the night. I only remember one dream and it was about my daughter, Jasmine. It was about the time Jasmine nearly got hit by a car. We were going to her sixth-grade school play and some idiot was speeding through the parking lot. Jasmine was walking a few steps ahead of us. We heard the screeching tires and saw Jasmine fall. I ran to her and saw her legs under the car. At first I thought she had been run over, but afterward realized that she had just fallen that way. Dumb luck really.
It was nearly eleven o’clock when I woke up. Amber was still asleep next to me. She had curled up in a ball like a kitten. When I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the movement woke her up.
“Damn.” She said, “This is one comfy bed, I don’t want to get up.” She stretched, rolled toward me and poked my ass with her toe. “You all right old man?”
“Hey, you did most of the work last night.” I answered. “And, my back thanks you. I owe you one.”
“If you remember correctly, you owe me two.” She purred, “Coffee?”
“I’ll order some for you, kitten.” I smile at her and picked up the phone. For some reason the room smelled of wet dog.
Part Fourteen – The White Dog Theory
We met Bill in the downstairs lobby at noon. I could tell Amber was nervous so I put an arm around her waist. Bill was sitting in one of the brown leather chairs by the fireplace. A better description would be that Bill was sitting on one of the brown leather chairs. Even the oversized chairs were too small for him.
Bill stood as we approached and looked directly at Amber. “Hello Amber, I’m Bill.” He said, “I think we have a little bit of the Elephant and the Mouse situation going on here so let’s get this out in the open right now.”
“Sure.” Amber said. I could tell she was going to go off to find her happy place any second, so I squeezed her waist a little to remind her that I was there.
“Ok, Amber, no offense, but you scare the living shit out of me.” He said. “You remind me of the Tinkerbell, without wings.”
“Whaat?” Amber looked at me confused. “I scare you?”
“I hate bugs.” He said, “Or better yet I hate any flying creature. Bugs, Bats, Birds, you name it.”
Sweat started forming on his brow and I was convinced that he was on the verge of a panic attack.
“I’ve never even been to Disneyland, hell I don’t even want to be anywhere near Florida.” He continued. ‘Because I’m afraid that bitch is going to fly up my pant leg and bite me on the ass. So, I’m going to apologize right now if I stare or better yet if I don’t make eye contact with you at all. Now, that’s the deal. I have had this fear since I was a child and I can’t get over it.” Finally, he added, “I’m sorry I didn’t call on you last night, but there you have it.”
“Let me get this right, Ivan uh…Bill.” Amber said with a renewed bravery. “You are afraid of a two-inch-tall, Disney character, and you think I look like her?” She paused in thought. “Or are you effing with me?”
Bill locked eyes on Amber’s for a few seconds then, “Damn, you’re good.” Said Bill, with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. “You’re right, I’m messing with you. But don’t you see how ridiculous it is to be afraid of me?”
“No.” She said, “I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that any time you wanted, you could crush my head with one of these.” She grabbed his hand and raised it up.” She started laughing, “You Asshole!”
He started laughing with her. It must have been a real show and I started laughing at the thought. The crazy man from room 202, the elf, and the giant all yucking it up in the lobby of a haunted hotel, like some bad Lord of the Rings sequel “She’s right, you are an Asshole.” I told him. “I believed every word you said.”
“Hey.” Bill said, “It worked.” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders, “Let’s get some lunch.”
I started walking towards the Cascades restaurant thinking “Here we go again.” When Bill stopped me.
“Where are you going Ken?” He said. “We don’t eat there, it’s too damn expensive. There’s a food truck around back. That’s where all the staff eat lunch.”
We let him lead the way as he walked out of the basement entrance and around to the back of the hotel. Like Bill promised, there was a food truck there with a short line of hotel staff waiting for food. The truck had all its doors open and the smell was incredible. My mouth started watering right away.
Bill turned and started walking backwards toward the truck. “Told you.” He said, “Stick with the brotherhood.” He pointed at me, “Lord of the Rings, right?”
All I could do was laugh and shake my head. He had done it again and now I was convinced he was a mind reader.
Bill ordered enough food to feed five grown men, but the price for all of us was less than thirty dollars. He grabbed a table with his free hand and dragged it over toward the waterfall. He placed his food down on the table and sat on the large rock at the bottom of the waterfall. “He’s done this before.” I thought, as Amber and I grabbed chairs and sat down.
We made small talk during lunch. Each of us in turn told the story of how we got to the Stanley Hotel. I was amazed at how comfortable we were. When we were finished eating Bill got up and took all our trash off the table. He walked back towards us and sat down on his rock.
“Ok, Ken.” He said. “Let’s get right to it.”
“What did you find out?” I asked. As both Amber and I leaned forward in our chairs.
“First, let’s talk about what it means to see a white dog.” He started. “There are several different modes of thought about this one, but I’ll try to condense it down for you.” Amber and I were both nodding. “Seeing a real honest to goodness, flesh and blood white dog means…” He took a piece of notebook paper from his front pocket and glanced at it. “Ok, that means New Beginnings.”
“I guess that kind of makes sense.” I said as I looked at Amber.
“I said a real white dog Ken.” Bill offered. “Next, what does a white dog mean in a dream?” He looked at me for a second and continued reading. “Seeing a white dog in a dream means you have strong values and will go far in life.” He held a huge finger in the air, “If that white dog is growling, then it means you are having some sort of inner conflict.”
Any more? I asked.
“One more that I think is significant and for some reason I think it’s a better fit.” He offered. “Seeing a white spirit dog or ghost dog, means the loss of a friend or a deterioration of your instincts. Your judgment Ken.”
“So, it’s either a real dog, a ghost, or I am dreaming the whole thing.” I said after a few seconds thought. “Could be good, could be bad. Correct me if I’m wrong Bill, but that doesn’t really answer any questions.”
“Small steps Ken.” Bill said. “You have to learn to crawl before you learn to walk.”
“Yes.” Amber added looking thoroughly lost in thought. She then whispered, “Someone’s coming.”
“Who’s coming Amber?” I asked. She didn’t answer and Bill went on.
“I also got some information on the hotel photograph in your room. You’d be surprised to find out how hard it is to get information on a stock photograph.” Bill said. “I don’t know what it means, but at least we know.”
“Go on Bill.” I said, looking at Amber. She was completely lost in thought.
Bill pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. “Ok, now this is freaky, even to me. I’ve read every book I could find on The Stanley Hotel and most of the stories are just someone else’s poor version of a ghost story. Maybe they didn’t think this story was significant, I don’t know.” Bill said as he flattened out the piece of paper he had pulled from his pocket.
“It’s the same photograph that’s on my wall.” I said.
“Yes, it is Ken.” Bill continued. “Ladies and gentlemen, meet Mrs. Katherine McSwain and her niece Ellen Braxton. He pointed to each of the two women as he spoke. “Now, in 1912, the McSwain’s visited this very hotel. Sometime during their visit, this photo was taken.”
“Ok, we know their names, so what?” I said, hoping Bill would get to the point.
“Patience Ken, I’m getting there.” Bill said, putting a massive hand on my shoulder. “Mrs. Katherine McSwain was the wife of Alvin McSwain, the not so famous Egyptologist.”
“And.” I said, getting more annoyed with each word. Bill gave my shoulder a little squeeze, looked at me, and smiled.
“Alvin McSwain is most famous as being the assistant and silent partner, of this man.” His huge finger went to the middle of the page and pointed at a picture of another man. “This is Grafton Elliot Smith. Better known as G. E. Smith.” My interest had picked up a little as I looked at the man’s picture. “Also in 1912, G. E. Smith published a book containing a list of all the known royal mummies up until that date.”
“Now we’re on to mummies?” I asked.
‘No Ken, we are not on to mummies, although that would be an unexpected twist. I simply wanted you to know a little of the back story. Now can I continue.?” He asked.
“By all means, Bill.” I answered, looking over at Amber again. She was staring blankly at the back of the hotel.
“In 1912, Sir Alvin McSwain sued G. E. Smith because he didn’t feel he was properly recognized in the book. Soon after McSwain filed suit he brought his wife, Katherine,” he pointed to one of the women in the picture, “and his niece, Ellen,” pointing at the other woman, “to The Stanley Hotel.” “And this,” he said pointing to the dog in the picture, “This is their white poodle.” His voiced was booming with excitement and I indicated that he needed to lower his voice. “Katherine McSwain disappeared soon after the trip.” He said whispering.
“What happened to her?”, I asked.
“No one knows.” Bill answered, “Alvin McSwain and Ellen, uh Braxton, left together without Katherine or the white poodle. Story is, Katherine ran off with her boyfriend to New York.”
“Again, Bill.” I said, “That doesn’t help a whole hell of a lot.”
“It doesn’t answer any questions, but it gives us a place to start.” Bill continued, “You said something about scratches under your bed?”
“Yep, angry white poodle.” I added smiling
“Let’s go check it out.” Amber whispered still far off in her thoughts.
We left and started the trip back to my room. On the way, Amber grabbed my hand. “This is trouble.” I thought, “Big Fat Kenneth type of trouble.”
Part Fifteen – Moving Day.
We walked around to the front of the hotel. As we got to the top of the main steps of the hotel, Amber turned and scanned the parking lot, as if she were expecting to see something. Just then we heard a commotion at the front desk. There was a man at the front desk arguing with the clerk. Amber immediately dropped my hand.
“Shit.” She said under her breath and then louder. “He’s found me.” She slowly started walking toward the man at the check in desk and turned back to us. “You two stay here, please.”
Bill and I trailed off to the right of the lobby and stood in front of the fireplace. Neither one of us took our eyes off of the scene at the desk. Amber approached the man and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. As he turned toward her, I could see his face was red with anger.
“You suppose that’s her husband?” Bill asked.
“Who else.” I said absently as I started to walk toward the counter. Bill put his huge hand on my shoulder again, this time as gently as he could.
“It’s her business Ken, let her handle it.” Bill whispered.
I could tell they were arguing by the animated way Amber was moving her hands. “His name is Bryan.” I told Bill, as his hand guided me back past the fireplace.
“I promise you Ken.” Bill said a little louder than expected, “If he gets physical, I’ll beat you over there and break both if his fucking arms.” His face was suddenly flush with anger. As if on que, Bryan grabbed Amber’s wrist and started pulling her toward the entrance.
Before either of us could move, we saw Natasha running from the doorway. She had been watching from the porch and I don’t think she knew Bill and I were in the room. She stopped in front of Bryan and yelled something unintelligible. Bryan stopped in his tracks, still holding Amber’s arm. A black object suddenly appeared in Natasha’s hand. With a flick of her wrist the object lengthened to about two and a half feet. It was a baton. Natasha flicked the baton at Bryan so quickly you could barely see the blow. Bryan immediately dropped Amber’s wrist and grabbed his hand. Then with pin point accuracy, Natasha struck Bryan behind his knee, sending him to the ground.
Before she could strike again, Bill made three large strides toward Natasha and pushed her away from Bryan. I ran up behind Amber as she turned toward me. “I don’t want this.” She said through her tears and turned back toward Bryan who was trying to get back to his feet.
“You’ll have to excuse my daughter.” Bill said addressing Bryan, “But where we’re from, we don’t man handle women.”
Ignoring Bill, Bryan said “You’re going to be sorry you did that, Bitch!” Bill grabbed Bryan on the side of his neck and Bryan winced in pain.
“Say something like that again and I’ll break your collarbone.” Said Bill.
Bryan raised his hand to indicate he was surrendering and turned towards Amber, “Who the hell are these freaks.?” He asked Amber, as held his wrist. Amber grabbed his hand and walked him back to the elevator then she turned and walked back towards us.
“I appreciate your help, he’s an asshole, but I don’t want him dead just yet.” She said to Natasha, and then turned toward me. “I’ll call you soon.” She walked back to Bryan, pressed the elevator button, and helped Bryan through the doors.
“Honey, I’m glad you were here, but what were you doing out there? Bill asked Natasha.
“That white poodle is running around out there.” She said. “I think its Ken’s dog.”
“Show me.” Bill said and grabbed the top of my head and turned me toward the door.
I was still thinking about Amber when Bill led me outside. Natasha had run down the steps and was already standing in the parking lot of the Hotel. “I swear, he was out here.” Natasha said. She started jogging up and down the parking lot whistling loudly for the dog.
“I’ll bet Ken would like you to stop doing that Honey.” Bill shouted to Natasha from across the parking lot. “I don’t think Ken likes that dog.” His booming voice traveled to the mountains and back again in a muted echo. Natasha started walking back our way.
“Well, this is his chance to prove it.” She said, out of breath.
I looked at Natasha and smiled.
“It’s her party Ken.” Bill said, “Let her figure it out for herself. Did you hear Mary Jane? She said she saw your white poodle.”
“I swear, Ken, that damn dog was here just a few minutes ago. He was running in that field right there.” She said, as she pointed to the patch of grass beyond the parking lot. She began walking toward the other end of the parking lot, scanning to see if she could find the dog. “Dad?” She asked him, expecting for him to tell her what was happening. She started walking toward the grassy area where she saw the dog.
“This time I’m stumped.” Said Bill, “No one is talking.”
It took me a half a second to understand what he was saying. He was not hearing the spirit voices.
Again, as if he were reading my thoughts. “Haven’t heard a word since last night’s show.” He said. “This is the first time in years that I have my head all to myself. It’s quiet, and I like it.”
“Do you think it has something to do with my situation?” I asked as I gestured toward the hotel. “Maybe this is my fault?” I thought for a moment and finally asked, “Can you tell what I’m thinking Bill?”
Bill laughed, “Not part of the deal.” He said, “I have always been able to read people though. I’m not right all the time, about seventy five percent.”
“Well you’re making A’s with me.” I told him, “You better corral Natasha before she gets lost.” Natasha was now in the road past the grass, still looking for the dog.
“Let’s go kid!” Bill shouted. Again, echoing off the mountains. Natasha looked up and started running back up the hill towards us.
As she approached, I noticed she still held the baton in her hand. She pushed the baton to its original length and it disappeared up the sleeve of her coat. I didn’t have to wonder what she meant to do to the dog. Out of breath she said, “I swear, I saw a fucking white poodle out there.” She pointed toward the grass again.
“Well, that’s awful nice of you Natasha” I said, “Now they won’t think I’m the only crazy one in the hotel.”
She patted me on the shoulder and pushed both Bill and I toward the steps of the Hotel. “Call me Nat.” she said.
Bill looked at her disapprovingly, “What’s this Nat business? That’s not the name your sainted mother gave you, sweetie.”
“It’s Natasha dad.” She corrected him. “It’s my new stage name, thanks to Ken.” She pushed us both in the back, directing us up the stairs. “Going to your room, right?”
“Ivan and Natasha.” Said Bill, “I like it.”
“Should be Boris and Natasha.” I quietly said.
We arrived at room 202 and I opened the door.
Bill walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He started laughing. “I get it.” He chuckled,
“Boris and Natasha, The Rocky and Bullwinkle show, right?” He could tell that Natasha was confused, “Google it Honey.” He said.
Natasha and I sat down in the two arm chairs. “Stop dwelling on it Ken.” Bill said. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Yeah, I know.” I replied and tried to change the subject, “All I have is beer.”
I walked to the bathroom and grabbed three cans out of my Coleman cooler. I handed Natasha a can and tossed a can to Bill. The can was dwarfed by his hand. I halfway expected him to raise a pinky when he took a sip. I had to do that when I played tea party with my daughters. “Raise your pinky daddy.” They would remind me. I suddenly remembered I had not talked to either of them in over two weeks.
Bill finished his beer and got up from the end of the bed. He walked across the room and into the bathroom. “I hate these showers.” He said. “I have to bend over to wash my hair.”
“Not everyone can afford custom showers dad.” Said Natasha. She was either politely nursing her beer or she didn’t like beer.
He walked out of the bathroom, still carrying his empty can. I grabbed the trash can next to my chair and held it up. Ken dropped the can in the trash and walked over to the bed. Without warning, Bill grabbed the footboard with one hand and slid the entire bed to the other side of the room. “Dad!” Said Natasha, “You’re going to wreck this floor.”
“Looks like it’s already wrecked.” Bill replied. He was staring down at the floor that would have been under the bed. The floor was worse than before. There were deep scratches in the floor and large splinters coming from some of the floorboards. The damaged area was much larger than I remember. It had grown to a two by four-foot area.
“What is going on in here, Ken?” Natasha said as she got up and walked to the damaged area. She bent down and picked something up that was lying near the damaged area between large scabs of dried yellow slobber. She held it up to the light. “The dogs toenail?” She asked, as she tossed the claw over to me.
“Bill.” I asked, “What do they call creatures that can be in the spirit world and the physical world?” I tossed the claw on the table next to me, wiped my hand on my shirt, and got another nasty whiff of that wet dog smell.
“Ghosts.” Bill answered.
We sat in silence and finally, Natasha said “Dad, we need to get going so we can get ready for tonight’s show.”
“You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.” said Bill. When Natasha had left the room, Bill slid the television cabinet over the damaged floor and positioned it so I could watch television from the bed. “You need to start being straight with me Ken. Tell me why you came to The Stanley Hotel.” Somehow, he had taken the pill bottle off the nightstand and he tossed it over to me.
Part Sixteen – 1912
The almost famous Egyptologist, Alvin McSwain was a friend and partner of Grafton Elliot Smith. In 1912, Smith wrote a book about the royal mummies of Egypt. Grafton Elliot Smith did not acknowledge the help of his partner Alvin McSwain. Alvin sued the greedy Grafton Elliot Smith but was unsuccessful.
Alvin McSwain’s sister Rebecca, was several years younger than Alvin, and she hated him. When Rebecca was fourteen years old, Alvin started making nightly visits to her room. At first, he would just talk to her. He had a way of making her feel comfortable and soon gained her trust. After a few weeks, he started touching her. She knew it was wrong, but she did not dare to tell her parents, because Alvin was their favorite.
After months of abuse Rebecca finally pushed his hand away one night and told him no. Alvin slapped her on the side of her head so hard he broke her ear drum. She could barely hear, when he said. “Go ahead, tell them. Let’s see who they believe.”
To escape the abuse, Rebecca married the first man she met. It didn’t take much to convince Lloyd Braxton, she just used tricks she had learned from Alvin. Shortly after their first encounter Lloyd asked her to marry him. She was only sixteen years old. Her new husband Lloyd was fifteen years older than she was and was not much better than Alvin. She had escaped one type of abuse and had fallen into another type of abuse. Lloyd Braxton liked to gamble and he liked to drink. When Lloyd got drunk, he liked to hit Rebecca.
Five months after the wedding, Rebecca found herself pregnant. Lloyd behaved for the next eight months, but when he became convinced that he was not the father, he started beating Rebecca again. “I saved you!” he would say, “And this is how you repay me, you ungrateful bitch.” During a particularly violent session, Rebecca went into labor and baby Ellen was born. Baby Ellen was small and fragile. She had been born early and it took the doctor’s considerable effort to keep Ellen alive during the first few months of her life. As the doctor’s bills started piling up, the beatings intensified. Rebecca became convinced that Lloyd would eventually kill her.
When Ellen was six months old, Rebecca pushed her drunken husband over the railing of their second story New Orleans apartment. With Ellen in her arms, she rushed down to him as he laid bleeding on the cobblestone streets of Canal Street. Next to his head was a piece of loose cobblestone. Rebecca worked the piece of cobblestone free and looked to make sure there was no one was watching. She did not stop striking Lloyd’s head until she heard the breaking of bone. Then she casually replaced the piece of cobblestone and began crying for help.
Ellen was a beautiful child. Rebecca was very strict and kept a close eye on Ellen. Lloyd had recently bought a large life insurance policy so she did not lack for money and she never felt the need for another man in her life.
Rebecca found she was good with money and before long the money from the life insurance had amassed into a small fortune. When Ellen was twelve, her uncle Alvin came for a visit to ask Rebecca for “A small business loan.” Once Rebecca saw the way Alvin looked at Ellen she picked up an old hunting rifle of Lloyds and chased him away from her home. Rebecca died of consumption just three years later.
Alvin McSwain was Rebecca’s only living relative and heir. Ellen was moved into his home and Alvin started visiting Ellen’s room soon after.
Most of their friends and family suspected there might be something going on and had blamed Katherine. They liked to say, “If Katherine took care of her husband like a good wife, Alvin would not have to seek comfort elsewhere.”
Soon after Ellen moved in the McSwain house, Alvin started thinking about how to simplify his life. Katherine was beginning to show her age. He did not see the need for two women inside the house.
Katherine knew about the abuse and felt sorry for Ellen, but didn’t dare do anything about it. Besides, her husband was very often gone on one of his many trips to Egypt. When he was gone, she cherished the time she spent with Ellen. One day as a gift to them both, she purchased a puppy. The puppy was a white standard poodle. They named the poodle King Louis, after the former king of France, King Louis the ninth.
King Louis loved Katherine and Ellen. As he grew he became a constant and jealous companion. Alvin did not like King Louis and kept him locked in an outside kennel whenever he was at home.
One the way back from his last trip to Egypt, Alvin had purchased a Stanley Steamer. Alvin loved his new Stanley Steamer. It was red and had much more power than Ford’s ugly black model T. He loved the vehicle so much that it became an obsession. He wanted to visit the hotel that Freelan Oscar Stanley had built in the mountains. He hoped to meet Mr. Stanley and had plans to invest in Mr. Stanley’s company.
Even with the powerful two stroke steam engine, it took considerable effort to baby the Steamer up the Colorado Mountains. He had to use the parking brake several times to avoid a backwards roll. To pull the Steamer up the steepest inclines, Alvin had a makeshift winch. Alvin blamed the extra effort on King Louis. King Louis was large for a standard poodle and when he was fully grown he weighed close to one hundred pounds. “If they had not insisted on bringing that damn dog, we would have been there hours ago.” He thought to himself. “Going to have to do something about that dog.”
After several hours, they eventually pulled into the grassy area in front of The Stanley Hotel. While Alvin made arrangements for their luggage, Katherine and Ellen walked King Louis up ahead toward the hotel. On their way up the hill Katherine saw a flash of light behind them. She turned and found that someone had just taken their photograph. Katherine and Alvin would share a room and Ellen would stay in the room across the hall. Katherine and Alvin were in room 202.
One week later Alvin and Ellen left the hotel together. Katherine and King Louis were nowhere to be found. The story Alvin told was that Katherine had run off with a man she had met at years earlier in New Orleans. That she had arranged to meet him in Colorado and they had both run off to Buffalo, New York. No one ever bothered to check Alvin’s story. After all he was the almost famous Egyptologist. When one of the hotel maids found the large dark stain on the hardwood floors of room 202, she just went about trying to clean it. She scrubbed for an hour, but was not able to remove the stain completely. She never questioned why the foam from her scrub brush was pink.
Part Seventeen – The Forth Night in Three Acts
Act One – Room 202
“I think that deep down you are a sad man Ken.” Bill said. “You think this thing with Amber is going to solve all of your problems, but it won’t Ken. You are just trading one set of problems for another set of problems and until you meet your demons head on, they will continue to torment you.”
“Really Bill.” I said, staring at the Vicodin bottle “You should have been a preacher.” I smiled at him. “A man your size would scare the hell out of anyone.”
“Funny, Ken, but you’re not answering my question. Why are you at The Stanley Hotel?”
“I told you Bill, I’m thinking about retiring near here.” I answered. “I’m making a little trip to see Devil’s tower and Mt. Rushmore and then heading back to Birmingham.”
“What hotel are you staying at in Wyoming?”
I got up and walked to the bathroom. “I don’t have reservations. I was just going to wing it.” I explained.
“How many of those have you taken while you’ve been here?” Another question from Bill.
“What is all of this?” I snipped, “Why all the questions?”
“Do you want me to tell you what I think, Ken?” Another question.
“Please just spit it out Bill.” I finally lost it, “Jesus Christ, what is your problem?”
“I think you came here to kill yourself Ken.” Bill said sternly, “I think you have been saving those pills for that very thing.”
“You’re nuts.” I said, “Why would I do something like that?”
“What do you have to hope for?” Bill bellowed as he stood from the edge of the bed. “You don’t trust anyone and I think you hate yourself.”
“Get the fuck out of here Bill.” I yelled. “You’re talking out of your ass.” I opened the door and pointed. “You have been analyzing me since we met. Enough already!”
“Why don’t you let me hold on to those for you?” Bill said as he walked to the door.
“Fine.” I answered, “Take them and get the fuck outta here!” I threw the pill bottle at him and they quickly disappeared in his fist.
“I’ll check in on you after the show tonight.” He said, “I didn’t mean to upset you, sometimes I’m too honest, I guess. But I like you Ken, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”
“Whatever.” I replied as I slammed the door behind him.
“Why are you so pissed?” I thought to myself as I plopped down in a chair. “Because he’s right?” Bill was right, even though I didn’t want to admit it, he had sensed my plan from the beginning. I had planned to take a handful of pills on my last night in the hotel, but that was before I met Amber. Now, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I felt as lost as ever, and found myself wishing I hadn’t given the pills to Bill.
I walked over to the bed and laid down. Before I fell asleep, I started thinking of the white spirit dog, “Inner conflict.” I thought, “You sure got that right.”
At exactly two o’clock, I was jarred awake by a crashing sound coming from the inside of the room. I looked up and found the television cabinet had been knocked over. The television had landed upright on the floor. Its screen was cracked, but I could see the reflection of a swirling white light in the cracked screen. It looked like a mini galaxy of stars was spinning over the damaged area of the floor. Then I saw the white poodle slowly take shape. He turned to face the bed and growled.
I rolled to the other side of the bed to escape, but the bed was now up against the wall. There was no escape. The dog casually jumped on the bed and again growled. I was helpless, then I thought of what Bill had said, “What do you have to hope for?” I suddenly thought of my daughters, and of Amber and the hope I had for all of them. With a new-found strength, I grabbed one of the thick pillows and shoved it toward the dog just as he lunged for my throat.
I was quick to make it to the door before the dog blocked my escape again. I opened the door and the dog jumped and crashed into the open door sending the edge of the door banging into my forehead. I pushed against the door and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind me. My ears were still ringing from the blow to the forehead and I felt warm blood dripping down my face. I turned toward the staircase and looked back over my shoulder in the direction room 202. I saw the small galaxy float into the hall from under the door. Before the poodle had fully formed, I rushed down the staircase to the lobby and then down to the basement level.
I stopped to catch my breath in the rear courtyard of the hotel. Again, the swirling of stars and the white poodle appeared. I grabbed one of the metal chairs and threw it at the poodle before he had the chance to jump on me. The chair went crashing into his head. His white fur turned red as blood poured from a gash above his right eye. “Touché, you French bastard.” I said as I backed toward the waterfall. I threw another chair, but this time the poodle grabbed the chair in midair. I cringed as I heard his teeth bite down and shatter on the metal chair. With a quick flick of his head, he tossed the chair aside. I was walking backwards toward the waterfall, tripped over the edge, and fell into the pool of water at the bottom of the waterfall. A fraction of a second later the poodle was on me. I managed to get my hands on the dog’s throat was holding his snapping jaws mere inches from my neck. Just then, I heard the howl of another dog. This one seemed far off. The poodle shook out of my grasp and walked backwards clearly afraid of what it had heard. Another howl. It seemed to be coming from the top of the waterfall. I looked in the direction of the noise and saw another group of white swirling stars at the top of the falls.
As I stared up at the lights, I saw another dog taking shape at the top of the falls. It was a golden retriever, and looked just like my dog Tim. The retriever jumped to the bottom of the falls splashing water in my face, and then took another leap toward the poodle. His jaws came down on the poodle’s muzzle in a quick bite and the poodle instinctively rolled on its back in a submissive position. The retriever gently grabbed the throat of the poodle and held it for a second. Then he released his grip and the poodle disappeared in a flash of light.
I realized I was still sitting in the pool of water when retriever turned toward me and started wagging its tail. I stood up and took a step forward, “Tim.” I said, and the dog rushed to me. Tears started running down my face and I began sobbing like a child. I started scratching his favorite spot, right on the top of his head. I stopped for a second and Tim pushed up on my hand to indicate he was not through with the petting session. I smiled at the gesture and put my face next to his. He licked at the tears on my cheek and slowly backed away from me. Tim turned to towards the swirling stars that had just appeared behind him and then back at me. I heard him whine and he looked like he was trying to decide something. “It’s ok boy.” I said. Tim gave a final wag of his tail, turned, jumped into the swirling stars and with a flash, disappeared.
Act Two – The Elf and the Wrong Turn
At about the same time I was yelling at Bill to get out of my room, Bryan was forcing Amber down the back stairs to their Mercedes. He had his large suitcase in one hand and was holding on to Amber’s wrist with his other hand. Amber was struggling, but was not crying out. She didn’t know why, but she felt like she could handle the situation on her own.
Bryan set down the suitcase and opened the trunk. As he tossed the suitcase in the trunk he said, “You should not have taken my money. That was not a smart thing to do.”
“I swear.” Amber responded, “I was going to bring you half of the money in the next few days. Bryan, please let me go.”
“I’ve got news for you Amber, every cent of that money is coming back to Texas with me.” Bryan said as he tossed Amber into the driver’s seat. “Move over.” he said and pressed the electric lock button on the door handle.
“I don’t know what you plan to accomplish with this stunt.” Amber said as she moved over the emergency brake to the passenger’s side seat. “You’ll never get me back to Texas.”
Bryan sat down, closed the door, and started the Mercedes. “Who say’s your coming back with me?” He said as he sped out of the parking lot.
He drove as fast as he could toward the main street of Estes Park. When he got to thirty-six he turned right, instead of left and headed out of town towards Trail Ridge Road. Amber did not tell him about the wrong turn. She was busy thinking about what he meant and started to fear for her life.
“What do you mean, Bryan, do you plan to kill me?” She asked.
“I haven’t figured out what to do with you Amber.” Bryan answered, “Maybe I’ll just drop you off in the west Texas desert.”
She did not respond, but was thinking about how she was going to get out of this ordeal. Bryan drove five miles before he realized he was going in the wrong direction. “Shouldn’t we be going downhill?” He asked. Amber did not answer. “You bitch!” he yelled, “You knew we were going the wrong way.” The he mumbled to quietly, “You’re chances just got smaller.”
Bryan started to look for a place to turn around and could not find one, because the snow drifts were blocking his way. He was so pissed off that he didn’t realize he could have turned the small car around in the middle of the road with ease.
“That group of freaks back there at the hotel, which one did you fuck to get back at me?” Bryan asked, “And please tell me it was that bitch with the baton.”
“Fuck you Bryan.” Amber replied, “Why don’t you tell me about nurse good body.”
“Her name is Jill.” He said, “She’s much better at it than you, I’ll tell you that much.”
Before Amber could answer a white shape appeared in the middle of the road. Bryan instinctively cranked the wheel hard to the left and sent the Mercedes tumbling into a snow bank.
As the car came to rest upside down, Amber looked over at the driver’s seat. Bryan was nowhere to be found. He had been thrown clear of the car as it rolled. “Should have been wearing his seatbelt, asshole.” Amber thought, as she started fumbling to unbuckle her seat belt.
Bryan had landed face down in the snow and as he rolled to his back, he saw a white dog standing a few feet away. “A fucking poodle.” he said and started laughing.
The poodle bit down on Bryan’s left foot, to let him know he meant business, and suddenly Bryan was afraid. He was panicking and started throwing handfuls of snow at the dog. One of these snowballs hit the white dog in the face and it had to back off to shake the snow out of his eyes. It gave Bryan the chance to get to his feet. He started backing away from the poodle through the drift. The poodle growled at him and was about to pounce when Bryan hit the dog in the eyes with another snowball. “Get away from me bitch!” He yelled at the dog.
Bryan could see the lights of the overturned Mercedes in the distance and realized he was already fifty yards from the car. From off in the distance he heard another dog howl. “Great.” He thought, “More dogs.”
The poodle also heard the howl, backed away from Bryan, turned, and ran towards the Mercedes. “Good.” Bryan thought, “Kill her for me.”
Bryan started his slow crawl through the snow back toward the Mercedes when he suddenly he felt pressure on the back of his left thigh.
The last known wolf in Colorado was thought to have been killed in the 1930’s. In 2004, a car hit a female wolf not far from Estes Park. The female wolf wore a radio collar that indicated she came from Yellowstone. Lately there have been rumors of a large black timber wolf in the Rocky Mountain National Forest, but those rumors had not been proven.
Bryan ripped his thigh free and turned to see what had bitten him. He wondered for a second why he did not feel any pain, and then realized it was because his feet and legs were nearly frozen. Bryan feebly kicked out at the black timber wolf. “Get off me, fucker.” He yelled. “A wolf!” was his final thought as the timber wolf jumped and grabbed his throat. Bryan’s frozen body would be found the next day.
Amber had managed to unbuckle her seatbelt and crawl from the Mercedes to the snow bank on the side of the road. Luckily, she was wearing the green foul weather jacket that Ken had loaned her a few days ago. “A few days ago.” She thought, “Is that all?”
She pulled herself into a sitting position with her back leaning against the snow bank. She could feel the creeping cold from the neck and sleeves of the jacket. “I am going to need help.” She thought when the white poodle jumped down from over her head. He had jumped from the top of the snow bank and landed in the road next to the overturned Mercedes. She could hear a low growl coming from deep inside the poodle’s chest.
The poodle turned to face her and suddenly looked up. The black timber wolf jumped from the top of the snow bank and landed just three feet in front of Amber. The white poodle started snapping and snarling at the wolf, as it circled toward Amber. Soon the poodle was between Amber and the black wolf. With a new-found fear, the wolf whined, tucked its tail between its legs, and backed away. The poodle took a step forward and the wolf turned and ran away into the dark night.
Amber was nearly unconscious as the poodle turned toward her again. She could see the white ball of fur at the end of the dog’s tail wagging back and forth. Amber was trembling from cold and fear, and could not move. The poodle walked toward her with his head low. Eventually the poodle curled up next to Amber and laid his head in her lap. She was frozen in fear, but somehow allowed her hand to rest on top the poodle’s head. As she fell asleep she felt herself reach out to Bill.
Act Three – The Giant gets a Call
Bill started his show as he normally did. The card trick and the moving curtain trick. He kept hoping that before he started the main part of the show, the voices would come back to him.
Natasha was watching from the doors of the grand ballroom. Bill was in a mess, but she had confidence that if he didn’t hear the voices, he could fake it.
It was that part of the show where Bill would normally hear from someone an audience member had lost. He approached a table, “Your name is Amber?” he asked the woman at the table. “Damn.” he thought, “It’s April, not Amber.”
Before he could correct himself, the woman said, “April.”, in a loud drunken voice. “Close, but no cigar.” She turned toward the man sitting next to her. “I told you.” She tried to whisper, but said it loud enough for the whole room to hear, “This is all Bullshit. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and began stumbling across the room. “April.” She yelled at Bill and walked out. The man stood up and left with his apologies a few seconds behind her.
“Let’s hear it for April.” Bill said, getting a small smattering of applause. “Go get some more of that good scotch,” he chuckled. He was starting to panic.
Natasha had been watching and was about stop the show. Bill saw her moving toward him and he held out a large hand to indicate for her to stop. “I got this.” He thought. He walked to the next table. “Your name is Michael?” he asked reading the place card right.
“Got it.” Michael said. The applause grew a little louder.
“Michael, you’ve recently lost someone close to you?” Bill asked.
Michael’s voice quivered as he answered, “Yes.”
“It was your father?” Bill asked.
“Yes.” Michael said again, with tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
“Michael, your father wants you to know that he’s proud of you.” Bill continued, “He thinks you are doing a good job as the man of the family. He wants you to know that it’s ok for you to get on with your life. He says thanks to you your mother can handle things on her own.”
As Michael stood, Bill walked over to him and embraced him. Michael was now sobbing. “I’m trying the best I can.” He told Bill, “It’s hard, you know?”
“I know Michael but you are doing a good job.”, Bill replied, “Your father knows that.”
Michael sat bad down and the room erupted in a hearty round of applause.
“You pulled that one out of your ass.” Bill thought, as he walked back to the front of the room. He glanced over at Natasha and she smiled and gave him a thumb’s up.
Bill was walking toward a table in the middle of the room when suddenly he felt like could not breathe. He fell to the floor and at once the whole room went white. A blinding white light. He had the feeling that several people were standing over him. Dark people, with oddly painted faces. He had just caught his breath when he felt a cloth being wrapped over his mouth. It felt like he was breathing through a wet towel.
He could not move his arms or legs. Then his eyes were covered with the same type of cloth. It smelled like the rags had been soaked in pine cleaner.
All at once Bill was looking down on someone wrapped in dingy white rags. He felt like he was floating several feet above the scene. Next to the wrapped body were three white jars, with strange looking lids. One was the shape of a cat’s head, one was the shape of a dog’s head, and one was the shape of a bird’s head. Each of the lids were painted in bright blue and gold. There were four brown skinned people standing over the body, all with bare torso’s, except for one. The one standing at the body’s head was dressed in a white, blue, and gold robe and he carried a long staff with a curve at the top. The four men stopped for a moment and looked up at Bill as if they knew he was there, then continued wrapping the body.
Bill could not move again, and he knew that the body being wrapped was his. He struggled to work one of his hands free, and then the other. Pushing the three attendants aside he started tearing at the wrappings covering his eyes. Then he started tearing at the wrappings covering his chest.
The crowd hovered over Bill, wondering if this was part of the show. Natasha rushed to his side and asked for someone to call an ambulance. Bill was flailing about and tearing at his clothes. He had scratches on his forehead and dangerously close to his eyes. “Now.” She shouted. Someone from the crowd ran out of the room to the check in desk.
Bill saw another flash of light and could see Amber sitting in a white cloud. He was suddenly cold and he started to shiver violently.
Natasha pressed down on his shoulders trying to keep him from hurting himself. She thought he was having a seizure of some sort. His skin was cold, and had started to turn blue.
As Bill was looking at Amber, she raised her head. “Help me Bill.” Her heard her say, “Ken knows where I am.”
Part Eighteen – The Rescue of the Elf
When Bill woke up four hours later, he was lying on his bed. Natasha was standing over him wiping his face with a cold washcloth. He could see there was blood on the white washcloth.
“What time is it?” Bill asked Natasha.
“It’s two thirty Dad, now just lie still.” Natasha answered.
“Where’s Ken.” Bill asked as he got up on his elbows.
“I’m right here. Bill.” I said coming in through the open door. “I heard you from outside. Are you all right? I asked.
“I think so Ken,” Bill said as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “I guess I had some sort of episode?” he continued looking up at Natasha.
“I’d say so.” She answered. “Just look at yourself.”
Bill got to his feet and walked over to the mirror by the door. His shirt was torn to shreds and he had huge scratches covering most of his face. “What the hell?” he said, turning to Natasha.
“EMT’s tended to most of those wounds.” She said, “Ambulance came all the way from Longmont. I insisted they put you in bed. It took four men to haul your big ass up here.” She said as she smiled. She was happy that her father seemed well.
Suddenly Bill was in a panic. He had remembered something. “Get me a new shirt, Honey.” He said. “Ken grab a coat and meet me at your Jeep as quickly as you can.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Just do it Ken, I’ll see you in five.” Bill said as he pushed me out the door.
I ran back downstairs, grabbed my down vest, and put on my boots but didn’t bother to tie them. I ran down to the lobby and out into the parking lot.
I got to my Jeep before Bill did. As started the Jeep, I could see Bill running through the parking lot toward Me. Natasha was close behind him.
Bill got in the passenger’s side of the Jeep and I could hear the springs whine with disapproval. Natasha jumped in the back of the Jeep.
“Forgot my coat.” She said.
“There should be a green jacket there in the back.” I told her.
“Nothing but this itchy wool blanket back here.” Natasha said.
“Damn, Amber must still have the jacket.” I thought.
“Ken start driving.” Bill said, “Amber said you would know where to find her.”
“What?” I yelled, “Where’s Amber?”
“Just drive, Ken, I’ll tell you on the way.” Bill yelled back.
I started driving down toward the main street of Estes Park. When I got to highway 36, I had a choice to turn right or left. I turned left toward Trail Ridge Road. That was the only road she and I had been on together, it was the logical choice.
Natasha had wrapped the wool blanket around her and I cranked the heat up on the Jeep and sped out of town up Trail Ridge Road.
As we drove up the mountain, Bill told me about the vision he had. “It’s probably because you started getting all wonky about some crazy mummy story.” I said.
“Maybe.” Bill said, but I didn’t believe him. I knew he thought there was more to the story.
I told Bill about my experience with the white poodle, and seeing Tim again. “It happened.” I told them, “It was real, I know it.”
“Then why can’t my story be real, Ken?” Bill asked. “It sure in hell felt real. And look at my face.” He said pointing at his face.
“Amber’s somewhere on this road.” I said, changing the subject, “I can feel it.”
“It’s getting colder.” Natasha said from the back. “This itchy wool piece of shit is worthless.” I could tell she was shivering.
“Get in the middle, I told her and pointed both vents down the middle toward the back of the Jeep.
“That’s a little better.” She said as she rubbed her hands in the hot air.
We drove a few more miles and saw some dim lights up ahead. As we got closer, we could tell it was Amber’s Mercedes. I jumped out of the Jeep before it had completely stopped and ran toward the overturned vehicle. Bill pulled the emergency brake. “Love.” Natasha whispered to Bill as they both got out of the Jeep.
It only took a few seconds to find Amber. She was unconscious, but had pulled her arms and head inside the jacket. “Turtle”, I thought as I picked her up. My back was screaming, but I didn’t care. I rushed her over to the Jeep.
I handed her to Bill, and jumped in the driver’s seat. Bill was cradling her in his huge arms as we turned around to head back down the mountain. He was rubbing the outside of the jacket with his huge hands, and I could see tears rolling down his face and freezing on the bottom of his chin.
“I heard you bug.” He was whispering to her. “I heard you.”
Just then I remembered something else. I stopped the Jeep, got out, and ran around to the back of the Jeep. I opened my backpack and fumbled around looking for a screwdriver. I finally was able to grab a small flathead and I walked over to the overturned Mercedes.
“We need to hurry Ken.” Bill said from the Jeep.
I took the screwdriver and jammed it into the lock on the trunk of the Mercedes. With a quick twist I broke open the trunk with the screwdriver. A large suitcase tumbled out of the trunk. I grabbed the suitcase and threw it in the back of the Jeep. “She’s going to need this.” I said, and crawled back into the Jeep.
“Natasha, do you have your cellphone?” I asked.
“Sure do”, she said pulling it out of her back pocket.
“Forgets her coat, but has her damn iPhone.” I thought to myself, smiling. “Kids these days.”
“Call the ambulance and have them meet us halfway.” I asked
“Already done.” She said. “I called when we got to the Merc.”
“Good girl.” I said.
A few miles down the mountain we saw the lights of the ambulance, and pulled over. Bill still had Amber in his arms. When the ambulance arrived, he rushed her over to the EMT’s.
“Hypothermia, I think.” Bill told them.
“Hello again fellas.” Natasha said as she waved at them from the Jeep.
“What the hell is going on with you people?” One of the EMT’s asked.
“Take me with you and I’ll tell you the whole story.” Answered Natasha, as she jumped out of the Jeep and walked toward the ambulance. “You got heat in this sucker?” she said, as she got in the back of the ambulance with Amber. “I’ll call you guys from the hospital.” She said, “I get the feeling there’s some unfinished business back at the hotel.”
“Like Father, Like Daughter.” Bill said as he closed the doors of the ambulance. The siren sped off as Bill and I got back in the Jeep.
“Are you going to let me in on it?” I asked Bill as I tried to start the Jeep.
“You’ll find out soon enough, Ken. Even with all the wild shit you’ve been through this week, I don’t think you will believe this next one unless you see it. What’s wrong with the Jeep?”
“Hold on.” I told him as I jumped out of the Jeep, ran to the gas cap. It opened with a hiss as the pressure was released. I tightened the gas cap and jumped back in the Jeep. Bill was looking at me confused. “Vapor Lock” I told him.
Part Nineteen – A Visit from Mrs. Katherine McSwain
I parked the Jeep and we walked up the stairs toward the main entrance of the hotel. I looked over at the check in desk and there was the clerk from the first night, talking to the janitor from the first night. “Great.” I thought, “These two again.”
“Do you have a pry bar?” Bill asked the janitor as he walked toward them.
“No sir, don’t have no pry bar.” The janitor answered.
“Uh, whatta you need a pry bar for?” asked the obviously stoned clerk.
“What’s your name?” Bill asked the clerk.
The clerk told Bill his name was Steven, but I clearly heard “Spicoli” and started laughing.
“How about a hammer.” Bill asked them both. “You’ve got to have a hammer.”
“Yeah.” Said the Janitor, “There’s a hammer in the tool box.”
“Can you get it for me?” Bill asked. I could tell he was getting annoyed trying to communicate with these two geniuses.
“Sure thing.” Said the janitor and he disappeared behind the counter and into the back room.
“You guys aren’t going to damage anything, are you.” Asked the clerk.
The janitor had returned with the whole tool box. Frustrated, Bill grabbed the tool box from the janitor’s hand and said. “Let’s go.”
I followed Bill up the stairs. When we got to the top of the stairs I heard someone behind me. I looked and both the Janitor and the Clerk had followed me up the stairs.
“Oh.” Said the clerk, “He didn’t mean us when he said let’s go?” I just shook my head and turned toward the door of room 202.
From under the door there was a bright light. I approached the door slowly and put my key card in the lock. The green light came on I turned the handle and opened the door. There was Mrs. Katherine McSwain, bathed in light, and floating a foot above the floor. “Finally.” I thought, “My first ghost.” I turned toward Bill smiling. The Janitor and the Clerk were standing behind him.
“No, No, No, No.” said the Janitor, as he turned and ran back down the hall.
Mrs. Katherine McSwain looked at Bill and pointed to the floor next to the overturned television cabinet. She was floating as if she had been suspended in water.
“What happened in here?” The clerk asked, clearly not focusing on the situation at hand.
Bill opened the tool box and grabbed the hammer. “Stand aside, gentlemen.” He said as he pushed past us and walked to the damaged floor. He looked at Mrs. Katherine McSwain and bowed slightly. She smiled and floated backward to make sure Bill had room to work. Bill pushed the broken television cabinet out of the way with his foot.
He turned the hammer to the claw side and struck the floor. The handle of the hammer promptly broke and the hammer head went flying across the room towards us. I had to push the clerk out of the way as the hammer head sailed an inch from the clerk’s skull.
“I don’t think you should be doing that.” The clerk said to Bill. I turned to the clerk and held my finger up for him to be quiet. “Oh, Ok.” He whispered and made the zipper sign across his lips.
Bill stood on top of the damaged floor, lifted his huge left foot, and slammed it down on the floorboards. Nothing happened.
“Damn.” Bill said. “They don’t make em like this anymore.” He raised his foot again and slammed it down on the floorboards. This time you could hear something crack beneath his foot. One of the boards had given way. Bill looked at Mrs. Katherine McSwain and said, “Here we go.”
He stuck his fingers in the hole left by the broken floorboard. As soon as he did, Mrs. Katherine McSwain disappeared and one hundred years of dust and dirt erupted from the spaces between the boards of the floor. A bright light flashed from under the floor casting shadows on the ceiling and walls of the room. Bill was shielding his eyes from the bright light with one hand, and pulling up on the next board. It finally broke loose with a loud crack and he grabbed the board next to it and broke that one. Then the next and the next until he had opened a hole in the floorboards three feet across.
The light dissipated as Bill reached into the hole in the floor, grabbed something, and started pulling. It took him a few tries, but eventually he pulled a trunk from the hole and sat it down on the floor.
It was a black trunk with brass rivets. It was about half as tall as a normal trunk. It was locked with an ancient looking rusty lock and sealed all around the seam with what looked to be red wax.
I grabbed a screwdriver from the toolbox and rushed over to the trunk. I started to pry the lock open and as I did the lock fell apart in a rusty heap. I flipped up the latch and tried to open the lid of the trunk. It would not open. I used the screwdriver to poke at the wax seal on the seam where the lid met the body of the trunk. It was slow work but I eventually got most of the wax chipped away. I pulled on the lid again and this time the lid opened with the hiss of trapped air. Some nasty smelling white dust flew from the opening. I flipped the lid all the way open and turned to look at Bill. I noticed the clerk had backed completely out of the room and into the hall. He was covered in dirt and dust.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Said Bill. “I give you Mrs. Katherine McSwain”
“I’ll be a son of a bitch.” I muttered when I saw what was in the trunk. There were two mummified bodies inside. One was clearly a human and had been bound in the fetal position to fit inside the trunk, the other was an animal. I knew right away it was the body of the white poodle. Both were wrapped in like a traditional mummy. Filling in the rest of the space in the trunk were several broken blue mason jars with what appeared to be dirt in them.
“It’s their organs.” Bill whispered in my ear, reading my mind again.
Room 202 was a disaster and after a few seconds of silence, Spicoli said, “You’re going to have to pay for this.”
Bill and I looked at each other and broke up with laughter.
Part Twenty – 1912 Revelation
Katherine and Ellen enjoyed their first day as a guest of The Stanley Hotel. They took King Louis on several long walks and watched the wildlife graze on the field in front of the hotel. This first day together would prove to be their last day together. That night Ellen kissed Katherine her goodnight and walked to her room. She never saw Katherine again.
Alvin McSwain was in the room waiting for Katherine, and Alvin McSwain had a plan. He brought everything he needed, all packed away inside what would be her sarcophagus. He told Katherine the heavy trunk was needed for his research. The springs of the Steamer would be put to the test on this trip.
Inside the trunk, which was about half the height of a standard trunk, he had packed all the things he would need. He had six large mason jars, each packed with expensive silkworm cocoons. He had two large bags of rock salt, some red candles, a jar of pine resin, two large bolts of raw unbleached linen, and the tablet he had smuggled out of Egypt on his last trip.
The tablet was the size of a large book and was made of stone. Adorning the face of the tablet were ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. The hieroglyphs were instructions to guide him through the process. One corner of the tablet had broken and deteriorated centuries ago, but most of the instructions were intact. He had carefully wrapped the tablet with a yard of linen.
He also had his tools. Everything he would need to finish his work. He had a hatchet, a scalpel, several types of needles, some rubber tubing, and a long, thin metal rod. The metal rod was fifteen inches long and had a small hook at one end. He had to have this tool specially made, but it was well worth the cost.
The mummification process normally took at least two months to complete. He only had a week. He had studied enough and he was confident that if he skipped all the rituals associated with the process, he could do an adequate job in a week. He had to get started tonight.
Katherine smiled at Alvin as she passed him and walked toward the privy. She heard King Louis scratching at her door seconds later and Alvin let him into the room. King Louis gave Alvin a small snarl as he entered the room. “Soon, my friend.” Alvin said to himself.
Katherine had dressed for bed and was reading in the chair by the window. The gas wall lamp cast long shadows in the room. King Louis was curled up, asleep by her chair. She never saw Alvin open the trunk.
He removed the hatchet from the trunk and hid it behind his back as he stood. Katherine looked over the edge of the book toward the open trunk. “What is it you have in there?” She asked.
“Come and see for yourself.” He answered and she cautiously rose from her chair and walked to the open trunk.
“What in heaven’s name is all of this?” Katherine asked. But she got no answer. Alvin had circled behind her and gave her a swift blow to head with the butt of the hatchet. He did not hit her hard enough to kill. He would need her heart pumping for the next part of the process.
As she fell, King Louis got to his feet and ran to Katherine’s side. He nudged her with his muzzle and she did not move. He looked up at Alvin and bared is teeth in what looked to be a forced smile. A low rumble started from deep in King Louis’ chest, and he backed away toward the privy, as Alvin raised the hatchet again.
“Calm down, boy.” Alvin said as he slowly walked toward King Louis. He held his free hand up to convince the dog that he meant him no harm. King Louis was confused, but he sensed the evil in this human. Alvin delivered a quick blow to King Louis’ neck, which killed him instantly. It took some effort to remove the hatchet from King Louis’ spine. When he finally pulled the hatchet free, blood began seeping onto the floor. He would have to attend to King Louis later. He had to work quickly before Katherine regained consciousness. He could not risk hitting her a second time.
He picked up Katherine’s limp body and moved her to the bed. He tore strips of linen from one of the bolts and tied Katherine’s arms and legs to the sides of the bed. Then he grabbed a strip of linen and folded it into a small square. He shoved the square into her month and tied another strip of linen around her head to make sure she could not call out. He walked out into the hall, closed, and locked the door.
He was excited and needed relief. He walked across the hall and knocked on Ellen’s door. She opened the door with a frown, but invited him in. He finished his business in less than five minutes, leaving Ellen sobbing on the bed. “She’ll learn to like it.” He thought to himself as he walked out of the door.
He casually walked to the maid’s closet at the end of the hall and inside found two metal mop buckets. It was late and the hall was empty. He glanced at himself in the hall mirror. His hair was a mess, he had splatters of blood on his face, and a large blood stain on the front of his shirt. “I look somewhat like a mad man.” He thought, as he unlocked room 202.
Inside he found Katherine awake and struggling with the binding on her wrists. “Hold still” He told her, “I tie a good knot.” She looked at him terrified, as he walked over to her and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Pity you woke so early my dear.” He said, “This next part may sting a little bit.”
He positioned the buckets on each side of the bed, just below her tied wrists. He went to the trunk and retrieved two long needles and two pieces of the rubber tubing and returned to the bed. “Of course, Ellen and I will eventually marry.” He told Katherine. “Don’t worry, I will wait a respectable amount of time.” He took one of the needles and affixed it to one end of rubber hose. He placed the other end of the hose in the bucket. “You’re going to feel a little pressure.” He said as he plunged the needle into her wrist. Blood immediately started to flow through the hose and into the bucket below. He secured the needle with a length of linen and walked to the other side of the bed. “Don’t be scared.” He told Katherine, “Soon you won’t feel a thing.”
When he finished, he walked to the privy, poured water into the wash basin and washed his face. Then he removed his shirt and threw it over King Louis’ body. “This should take a few hours.” He thought, and he walked across the hall and knocked on Ellen’s door again.
A few hours later Alvin returned to room 202, closed and locked the door. Katherine was dead and he had a lot of work to do before the sun came up. In the eerie glow of the gas lamp, he continued his work.
He removed the needles from Katherine’s wrists and moved the full buckets over to the wall and out of his way. With the scalpel, he opened a foot-long incision in Katherine’s left side. Through the opening, he carefully removed her liver, stomach, lungs, and intestines. He carefully placed each organ a separate blue mason jar. He took his special tool and shoved it up Katherine’s left nostril. He had to tap the end of the metal rod with the hatchet to push the tool into her brain pan. He then began removing her brain one small piece at a time. There was very little blood.
When he finished, he untied Kathrine’s hands and feet and moved her empty shell to the trunk. He filled her body cavity with rock salt and poured the remaining salt over her body. He repeated the process with King Louis’ body before he finally closed and locked the lid of the trunk. This part was meant to remove the rest of the moisture from Katherine’s body and would take at least five days.
Before he finished for the night, he tried cleaning King Louis’ blood from the floor. He should have done that earlier, because the wooden floor had soaked up much of the blood. He soon fell asleep on the blood-stained bed.
The next day he told Ellen that Katherine had ran off with another man and had taken King Louis with her. “She would not do that.” Ellen said.
“You really don’t know her, Ellen.” Alvin told her. “She has been living two different lives. I guess she liked the other life better than ours. Don’t worry, I’ll still take care of you.”
Ellen shuddered at the thought of living with Alvin without Katherine. “He will start wanting more from me.” She thought. “He will want me to do more, things.”
On the fifth night, Alvin opened the trunk. There was hardly any smell and the rock salt had dried Katherine’s body out enough for the next step. He carefully removed most of the salt from inside Katherine’s body and picked her up. Katherine’s body was extremely light, much lighter than when he had put her in the trunk.
He moved her to the bed and began to work. He filled her body cavity up with the silkworm cocoons and sutured her side to close the wound. Then he started wrapping her body in strips of linen. He carefully wrapped each of her fingers and toes first. Then he positioned her body to take up the least space possible inside the trunk. He coated each layer of linen with pine resin. It was hard work because the pine resin was very sticky. When he was finished, he set Kathrine’s wrapped body next to the open trunk and then started on King Louis.
Next, he had to scoop out the salt from the trunk. Most of was tinted with a pinkish brown hue, and was slightly damp, like wet sand. When he was satisfied, he placed both bodies in the trunk and fit the blue mason jars in the remaining open spaces. Now he had to seal the trunk.
It was two o’clock in the morning when Alvin crept into the kitchen with a bag of red candles. There was a large pot of soup simmering on the stove, but no one else was around. He moved the pot of soup to make room for his melting pan. He opened the face of the stove and placed two more strips of kindling into the glowing embers. He blew on the embers and the kindling ignited. In mere minutes, he had a pan of melted red wax. He placed the pot of soup back in its original position and quietly walked up the stairs to his room.
Once he had sealed the trunk he had to open a space in the floor wide enough for the trunk. He moved the bed to the side and started trying to pry the boards from the floor. After what seemed like hours, he had removed enough of the boards to slide the trunk into the space between the ceiling of the room below and the floor of his room. He then replaced the boards using the remaining pine tar to glue each board to the other.
He did not remember laying down but woke several hours later. He knelt next to the repaired floor. It was still sticky in some areas, but he had done a good job of concealing his work. If asked he would tell the maid that the blood stain was from a couple of rabbits he had killed earlier in the week. It was not unusual for the guests of the hotel to hunt game in the surrounding forest.
Before he and Ellen left the next day, he went about spreading the story of Katherine’s disappearance to several guests in the hotel.
Epilog
We spent most of the night rehashing our story to the police. The janitor and the clerk would not admit what they had seen, but there was no denying what was in that trunk. The next day Amber was released from the hospital, we said goodbye to Bill and Natasha and we checked out of The Stanley Hotel.
I drove Amber back to Texas. During the drive, I told her about what happened that night. “You really think it was the ghost of Katherine McSwain?” She asked.
“I wish I could say it wasn’t.” I told her, pausing for a moment, “I am convinced it was her.” Then I added, “My whole way of thinking has been turned upside down, and I will tell you this, I am no longer a skeptic.”
I dropped Amber off at home. She told me that she would contact me as soon as she finished making the arrangements for Bryan. “I’ve got a lot to think about.” She said, as she kissed me on the cheek, “Don’t be surprised if I show up on your front steps in a few months.”
It took a couple of days to get back to Birmingham. I thought long and hard on the drive and had made a promise to myself to get some help. I had decided it was not a bad thing to admit you needed some extra attention. I called Heather and Jasmine on the drive and told them what I had decided and they were both happy with my decision.
Soon after I got home, I made an appointment to see a new doctor. I was diagnosed with mild depression and he gave me a low dose antidepressant. A few weeks after I started taking the medicine, I started writing. I didn’t know why, but it felt like the right thing for me to do. It took several weeks to finish my story. On a lark, I submitted the story to a bi-monthly horror magazine. A few weeks later I got a check in the mail for five hundred dollars and an offer to expand the story into a screenplay. I’m working on that screenplay now.
Bill and Natasha have settled in Las Vegas. It seemed Bill had regained his gift and was now hooked on Texas Hold ‘em. I hear from them often and plan to visit on my next long drive.
It has been five months since my trip to The Stanley Hotel. I have not taken a Vicodin since the incident. I don’t even keep them in the apartment. A month ago my old doctor was sued for wrongful death and charged with overprescribing opioid medication.
Everything was quiet until last night. I was doing some research when I heard a knock on the door. I opened the door and Amber walked right in the apartment. I was shocked to see her, but even more shocked at her small baby bump. Before I could speak, she said, “This little miracle is yours Kenneth.” She set her small bags down and patted her stomach. “Looks you got a few good swimmers left.” She smiled, “Old man.”
“Oh yes, I have a really big bag out in the car.” She said with a smirk, “Do you mind?”
When I got back to the apartment with the bag, Amber was sitting at the table staring at a photograph. Next to the photograph was a printed copy of her family tree.
“I did an ancestry search when I got back to Texas.” She said, “I think you will be surprised at the results.”
“Ok?” I said curiously.
“This is a picture of my Great, Great Grandmother.” She said, pointing at the photograph.
“Go on.” I encouraged her.
She pointed at a leaf on the tree. “This is her, right here.” She said.
I picked up the paper to get a better look. The name on the leaf was Ellen Braxton.
Opioid Addiction Statistics
This story is in no way meant to preach about the abuse of prescription opioid use, or to encourage THC use. However, it would be a disservice to the reader if I did not include some basic information regarding Opioid Addiction and Overdose. Besides these basic facts, I would encourage each reader to do their own research.
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Great revisions to this story! I love the additional details and the tension you’ve built up with the young woman. Undoubtedly she will be reoccurring in the next installment, as you’ve spent so much time on her already!
Some notes: This sentence was unclear: “At just over sixteen hundred, the Whiskey bar boasts the largest collection of whiskeys and single malt scotches in Colorado.” – Sixteen hundred whats? Bottles?
Also, you did this in a few places, but there is no need for the double punctuation, as here: “My first thought was, “Why would a ghost be taking my picture?”. ” You can leave the “?” as the end mark. In the second to last paragraph with the dialogue between you and the young woman, this is something you do often. It would also help if you used line breaks every time a new speaker came in. For example:
“Look,” I said as I raised both hands, “I didn’t see you until you were nearly at the top of the stairs. I would have offered my help, but it was too late.”
She glared at me, “Yeah, you look like you would have been a great help.”
But good on you for revising and re-posting! I can’t wait to read more.
Thanks for the info. I will get to work on it soon. Glad you liked it.
Part Three is a solid addition to this story. It’s well-told, you really put us in your shoes with your description of the hotel environment. The scene by the fireplace moves well. You don’t linger too long there, which can really drag the energy of a scene down. It will be interesting to see where this story goes, because she did in fact join you on your potentially dangerous trip! Were you foreshadowing with that bit about the vapor lock? We’ll have to see! 🙂
Another great installment! We’re getting closer to the ride and now there’s pot brownies involved! I’m intrigued with the details you keep adding. The scratches under the bed are a creepy touch. Also, why would rats be scratching under the bed in the first place? The plot thickens!
So you’ve added a bunch since I last read this story!
Ahh, at last the vapor lock comes into play. Good times. Loved the experience with the elk. Having spent most of my summers growing up in the Canadian Rockies, I know the scenery you’re talking about as well as the elk herds. You could bulk up the description of how the elk sounded or smelled or how his breath looked in the cold environment and I think that would be a great touch. Did I read the scene correctly in that this was just a pull-out? There wasn’t a visitor’s center right here?
The tense exchange at the dinner table seemed out of place to me. I realize Ken and Amber were uncomfortable for being outside of dress code, but the “white poodle” comment at the end making Ken angry came across as a little dramatic.
Of course that was ALL forgotten as Amber comes to Room 202. I wasn’t certain Ken wasn’t dreaming that one. Then, of course, the whole situation with the white poodle in the room (and holy crap was that terrifying! Cujo was an apt comparison!) and come to find out that he ‘dreamed’ that, but not the visit from Amber.
I am glad Ken found a way to convince Amber of the truth, and that she sees the white blur in the road on the camera and then takes Ken on when even he starts to doubt what he saw.
When did Amber see the poster for the seance? We know Ken saw it because he was in the lobby and moving in a particular area of the lobby (that poor clerk and janitor lol) but would Amber have necessarily been in that same area?
I love this and can’t wait to see where else you take this. Great building of suspense and mystery. And now a seance!
Thanks. I see what you mean. I’ll polish this up a little this weekend. Was the poodle encounter a dream? Also, I’m fighting the idea of changing the dog breed. I keep thinking readers will think this is a small dog.
Heck no, I see a big ole savage standard poodle. I think you said it was standard at first, but if you think people will be confused, you could throw it in there some more. It’s really terrifying. Those dogs are quite big and they look so docile, especially with the lamb cut.
TBH though the only dog that ever bit me (and bit me in the face!) was a toy poodle. She could be a mean little thing when she wanted to be. 😉