Pam is a young notary trying to keep her Cartesian reputation pristine. Siska is a recovering addict whose new lease on life stems from her paranormal, investigative work. They sit on opposite sides of a spectrum it seems... until Pam shares a secr...
I told Siska, 'My boss knew I would be stuck on the estate.'
She nodded and left the corner of my desk to find a comfortable chair before I continued.
'When he later called to check I got his text, he said I should speak to Jane about getting a room at the hotel for the night—I got inside the building just as hailstones started pelting against the windows and I walked up to Jane.
"Hi," I say.
Jane's flicking through her reservation book from behind check-in.
I approach the counter. "Did you see the news?"
She raises her hand. "You're worried about the storm. Well, you should be," she proceeds, "especially since everyone here is leaving and you're going to be stuck."
I'm about to speak when she gets up to turn off a light somewhere behind her. "You realise that I'm the only one left and I'm getting out of here in 5 minutes."
She breezed past me, picked up a dark mass and wrapped a duffle around her shoulders. "Well, you can't exactly expect me to take you home with me?"
I say, "Hey—all I need is a room—the smallest, cheapest one you've got will do."
Jane paces to her desk and slaps her big book shut. "So, when I've gone and there's no one else left here but you...you'll be fine with that?"
"Yeah, sure. Is that okay?"
"That depends." She picks up her book and slides it onto a shelf before turning back to me. "You realise no one can come back for you in the night. The road is going to flood, and no one will attempt a pass until morning. So, if anything happens—with the storm I mean—it could be dangerous."
At this point, I know I rolled my eyes at her. "Look—" I said, "do you have a spare room or not?"
Jane pivots to a small hanging box behind her and, after brushing her finger over several keys, she picks one up.
"Number 12. That's the first floor."
I nod and extend my hand. "No bathroom," she adds, pressing the key into my palm. "Use the one down the hall."
"Alright," I say, gathering my stuff as she walks a few steps toward her umbrella and turns around. "One more thing!"
Since I was already at the door leading to the stairs, I had to walk all the way back to her.
"Best you read the welcome booklet in your room," she says, stepping into her rain boots. "It has emergency numbers you can call from the hotel's landline. The network will drop during the storm and the phone is right under the check-in counter."
"That's helpful—cheers," I say, nodding and getting the hell out of her hair.
I get to my room and settle in. It's tiny, with a picture of the Virgin Mary in a broken-and-fixed frame on the wall, to the right.
A few steps from the foot of the single bed is a window. I take a peek and see dark trees, bending in the rising wind but all around me, it's dead quiet.
Calm before the storm, I guessed, and that suited me just fine.
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