My husband and I stayed in a hotel not long ago. It wasn't posh or expensive; just a hotel. it was an unusual experience. It went beyond the rowdy wedding group that can't remember where their rooms are and spend most of the night staggering up and down hallways, pounding on random doors hoping they will let themselves in. It was different than the baby that suddenly discovers it has control over it's own volume...at 2am. Oh yes. It was.
The hallways had small flickering square ceiling "lamps" that trailed dimly down a hall with flat, dark carpet. The walls were light blue; almost institutional colored. Above each door was a faux "window" that had been painted dark. I suppose it kept you from seeing inside (or out of) the rooms. These eerie halls were FREEZING cold. Way beyond York peppermint patty sensations. Your nose was INSTANTLY red and running. Your arms had goosebumps stacked up. Even my fanny shivered.
We glanced at each other and made a joke or two about "Ghost Hunters". We keyed in and were smacked in the face by a heat wave. Our cheeks flushed and sweat flecked our skin. But in the hallway mind you, Polar bears were boosting penguins to get into the vending machines for Famous Amous chocolate chip minis. The lights in HERE were not hooked up to the switches. You had to find them in the dark...and THEN try to figure out what eentsy little knob, screw or bolt actually served as the switch to turn it on. FABULOUS.
Not so bad. It was only for a couple of nights. We had many obligations, so it wasn't as if we would be spending a LOT of time in there. Then I saw it. I stared at it for several minutes trying to make SURE it was what I thought it was.
On either side of the bed were dark deep red smears and a couple of splatters. YEEAAH.
"Ummm Rich?"
"Hey! Look! We can see the pool from here!"
"Yeah, Rich?"
"Ohhh man. Look at THAT"
"LOOK AT THIS"
He came over and I heard this little gasp. "No....It's paint."
We leaned over and looked closely, squinting. (I don't know why, we couldn't see it any better.)
"Sure?"
"Sure."
"Paint?"
"Yep."
"Wanna check under the bed?"
"Nope."
We leaned back and un-squinted.
"Sooooo where's the pool?"
"Over here...WAYYYY over here."
"Let's have a looky-see...."
We left not mentioning the paint again. We went where we needed and came back. The hall lights winked on and off as we traversed the icy tundra to our room...in the tropics. We turned on the air conditioner even though it was 23 degrees outside...in our room in was almost 85. We were disappointed there was no turn-down service. Should we call the front desk? Housekeeping? CSI? "Don't eat that thing on your pillow Miss...It's not chocolate."
Sleep came but lightly and sporadic. (Can't imagine why. Just because the Bogeyman is hiding in the closet with the last tenants HEAD in that spare pillowcase...."Help you iron your shirt Ma' Lady? RRRRROOOAAARRRR. Chomp.) Then around 4am there was this thumping. The kind that vibrates your teeth and stalls your heart for just a tick or two. It was accompanied by a very soft whining that gently crescendoed into a moan...then almost a chant. Almost an audible chant. I promptly scared myself into HAVING to get up and pee....in the dark because I couldn't find any friggin lights or switches. I stubbed my toe and felt warmth. Maybe THAT'S how that "paint" got there. Once in the bathroom, I realized the "music" was trickling down from the vent above the commode. I had NOW scared my pee away. I ran back to bed and lie there. The noise eventually stopped. I did NOT sleep. (again)
Morning brought much concealer and make-up. Everyone discussed the tribal ritual that floated through the halls. We all laughed and made fun of ourselves, but we also double checked the fruit bowl for shrunken heads. the second night was uneventful.
Duties fulfilled. Home again. Familiar shadows, comfortable darkness.
That IS chocolate on my pillow. I put it there.
