A Restless Night

A RESTLESS NIGHT: A Short Story by L.G. Ledesma

The rain pounded upon the roof of my old Sedan. It didn't usually rain like this in Dallas, so hard, so consistent. The storm clouds seemed to stretch for miles on end. As I drove down Dolphin Road, the clock on my dashboard read 9:07, which was even more odd. Usually, 9:00 was around sundown, but even without the rain, I felt it would still be pitch black. The only thing I could see was about 7 feet ahead of me, the rain made sure of that. Dolphin Road was some sort of a back road, around thirty minutes away from downtown. It followed the country side or miles. There were no other cars on the road, as far as I could see. Lightning flashed from the distance, and a load roar of thunder followed. I had been traveling from a business meeting in Plano down to my apartment in downtown, but the realization that I might have to stop for the night steadily rose in my head. But I'm so close, I thought to myself, Just half an hour. Screw it, I'll keep going. The rain seemed to disagree with me. It poured even harder, and it may have been starting to hail. I was beginning to believe that I had to stop for the night, or else I might not make it home. I wondered if there was a motel around. I pulled out my Nokia and brought up my GPS screen. A red text box read NO SERVICE. Great, I thought, Did you really expect to get full bars out in a raging storm in seemingly the middle of nowhere? I shook my head, threw my phone down into the floorboard of the passenger seat, and kept on driving. I just hoped that luck would find me soon.

Soon enough, I did pass by a motel. It wasn't a huge and probably not a fancy hotel, but it was a salvation and a haven. There was a sign with the name on it, but I couldn't see it. I drove in at the first opening and went into the check in/check out building (luckily the sign on that was glowing bright red). I pulled up into the parking lot and shut off the engine. I grabbed my brief case, threw my leather jacket over my head, and ran inside. It was hailing, and it was hailing hard. The inside of the building was just like any other motel. It had some chairs, a table, a couch, and a fireplace. The desk was sitting on the left eastern wall, diagonal to the fireplace. There was no bell hop or concierge there, but the hours sign behind the desk read 7 AM-10 PM. There was a bell on the desk, so I rang it. The bell rang out, but no one answered its call. There was a clock on the wall, but it wasn't working. The storm outside the window across from the desk raged on, making everything seem all the more creepy. There was a desk lamp on, for the overhead lights remained dark. There was a fire in the fireplace, crackling. That meant that someone must be here. I rang the bell again, and when no answer came, I called out myself.

"Hello?" I exclaimed. "Anyone home?" There was any eerie silence. I sat in the chair next to the desk, put my arm on the arm rest, and allowed my head to rest on my supporting arm. I sat quietly, and the rain calmed down a bit. In fact, it almost soothed me. I had already begun to doze off when a voice awakened me.

"Oh, hello!" the voice said. I jolted up and awake, almost falling out of my seat. I re-established my balance, and then stood and looked around.

"Oh dear, I apologize. I didn't mean to frighten you." The voice at first had sounded like it came from behind me, but then it sounded like it came from my side. I turned to my left and saw an elegant mirror, with me and another man in the reflection. I spun around faster than the lightning outside. I saw a man in an all red suit. It was a bright, kind of scarlet red. He had a red tie, red pants, red jacket, and a red shirt. It was very strange, I had never seen a suit like that. His hair was black, and combed over to the side. He had a charming smile on his face, but I was too consumed by fear to notice his charming aura. The whole ordeal strangely reminded me of 'Psycho', with the red suit man being Norman Bates.

"Oh... hi... I'm uh... I'm Andrew Craig." I was still tired, but I was also wide awake.

"Hello. I'm Christopher Owens. I own this motel." He pointed to his manager pin. He offered his hand, so I shook it. "I'm so sorry if I kept you waiting. I accidentally doze off. The bell boy has gone home. We don't get very many visitors here." See? Classic 'Psycho'... I shook off the feeling.