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Southern Hospitality |
| Written by O. Caringa | |
| Friday, 22 August 2008 | |
"What a beautiful hotel," Gina said, giggling. She always reacted this way when she was nervous, and she felt a bit like a poker player conscious of his tell. That's what a visor and cigar are for, she thought. She had not visited the gift shop yet. The bellhop swept back his salt and pepper hair and loaded the girl's bags onto the gold colored cart. "What name's the reservation under?" "Huh?" Gina asked. "Crystal Houston," Crystal said, sighing. I wish I could be more like her, Gina thought. She doesn't care what anybody thinks about her. "Houston...O.K, you'll have to sign in. Why don't you wait in the lobby, we're seriously understaffed." Crystal led the way into the hotel, chomping on a stick of gum. She seemed a little spacey, and for a second Gina compared her to Paris Hilton. The way she walked, oblivious to her surroundings. The large frames of her glasses. Gina stifled her laugh and Crystal smiled. "What's so funny?" She asked. "I almost walked into the bellhop on the way in," she said. She didn't think the Paris Hilton comparison would be well received. The bellhop was right with his last comment. As Gina looked around, she could find no hotel staff at all. The front desk was vacant, and there were no guests in the lobby. The two story hotel seemed vacant. Georgia was not the most popular tourist destination, she told herself. Most people on Spring Break vacationed in Florida or Bermuda, it seemed, with a variety of other similar destinations. Crystal had family in Georgia who supposedly owned a beautiful mansion a few miles from the hotel. The original plan was to stay there, but Crystal thought the two-room suite would give her a chance to get reacquainted with her boyfriend. ‘My families old-fashioned like that," Crystal had said. After he deposited the girl's luggage in their room, the bellhop returned with a thick book. "I need one of you to sign right here," he said, holding out a pen. Crystal scribbled a few lines onto the book and then handed it back to the man. The bell hop smiled and then led the girls to the elevator. There was that awkward silence which accompanies all elevator rides with strangers. The bellhop whistled and smiled when Gina looked at him. "So where are you girls from?" He asked. "umm..." Gina looked to Crystal who seemed oblivious of the conversation. Gina's jealous thoughts returned again: God I wish I could be her. "I'm from New Hampshire," she said. "And now you're here. For spring break I imagine?" "Yeah," Gina replied, feeling the question hang over her. The elevator opened, and she moved quickly to exit. Crystal followed a few steps behind. "Your room is 213," the bellhop said. He unlocked the door and watched as the girls entered. Both girls' bags were set in the first bed room. "Is there anything else you need?" "No," Gina said, smiling. "O.K now. If there is you can find me downstairs," the bellhop left the room and walked towards the elevator. After she was sure he was out of earshot Gina looked at Crystal, who this time had a puzzled expression. "Did he give you a key?" Crystal asked. "No, he didn't give you one?" "The first thing I'm going to do is take a shower. The second is raid the minibar...Do you feel like getting the key?" No, Gina thought. But what was the point of arguing? She nodded and went out to the hall. The bellhop was standing by the elevator when she neared, shaking his head. "You forgot-" "The elevator is so slow," he said, cutting her off. "I need a key for my room, you forgot-" "Forgot to give you one." He said, nodding. "Here you go." He handed her the key as the elevator door opened. He smiled, waiting for her to walk away. For some reason he seemed more and more sinister the longer she knew him. She walked back to her room, welcomed by the sound of running water. Crystal took a long shower, and it gave Gina enough time to watch most of an episode of I Love Lucy. It was the classic episode when Lucy worked at a candy shop and couldn't keep up with the assembly line. Lucy was stuffing a piece of chocolate into her shirt when Crystal emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel. "Gina, I can't find my bra," she said, dazed. "What?" "I packed seven of them; there are none in either bag." "What?" "Those bags were never out of my sight except when that freaky bellhop had them. I'm going to call the front desk." The idea of Crystal calling the front desk for her missing bras was slightly funny, though Gina let the shock settle in. "I knew he was weird," Gina said. "He seemed off." "They better not send him up here- I'm going to get dressed." She entered the bathroom for the second time, just as the TV announced "This has been a DesiLu production." She exited a moment later wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. "This is seriously ****** up," she said. "What a pervert." I knew it, Gina thought. She could picture that smile, the way he looked at her in the elevator. Sometimes you can just sense that something's wrong about a person, even if you can't put your finger on the exactly what it is. Crystal looked around the hotel room frantically, which Gina assumed was her quest to find her missing bras. She stood frozen in front of Gina, growing increasingly distressed, "There is no phone in this room." "Alright, listen to me, I'm going to go down to the lobby. You lock the door and wait here for me." "But the guy-" "I'm going to go down the stairs instead of the elevator. He can't hide on the stairs. When I get to the lobby I'll scream to get anyone's attention I can, and then tell them what happened." Crystal looked around the room one final time before nodding, reluctantly. Gina exited the room and looked in both directions down the hall. She saw no one. She walked towards the grand staircase instead of the elevator, and felt relieved as soon as she began descending the stairs. As she had feared, there was no one in the lobby; no employees, no guests. She began walking to the front door where she had first met the bellhop. Maybe there's someone outside, she thought. When she opened the door it triggered a bell to chime, and she screamed as she saw a door open behind the front desk. She screamed again, louder, before she realized the man exiting the room was not the bellhop. "What's going on here?" He asked. A blonde woman exited behind him, straightening her shirt and flattening her hair. "Sir, the bell hop, the one that signed me in-" She couldn't quite piece the words together in any coherent manner. "What's going on here?" The man repeated. "Who are you?" "I signed in earlier. My friend Crystal, she's up-" Gina pointed in the direction of the stairs. "You say you signed in earlier? That strikes me as hard to believe, I'm the only working here-" "Listen to me," Gina said. "A bellhop brought my friend Crystal and I up to room, he even had me sign-" Of course the book's not here, she thought. Whoever brought them to their room didn't work for the hotel, and he was probably dangerous. "Why don't we just sit down over here," the man said, motioning to a couch. "You start your story over again." She followed him to couch and sat down. "A man with gray hair, he was short maybe 5'6. He met us at the door and brought us up to a room. Then Crystal took a shower and realized all her bras were missing." The blonde woman smirked at this comment, causing Gina's feelings to intensify. "We need to go up and check on her. If that guy-" "Listen to me: we'll get to the bottom of this. Now, Linda will go upstairs with you and take a look around. What room is your friend in?" "It's...213," she said, relieved that she remembered the number. Linda began to smirk again, and threw her arms in the air, walking away from Gina. "Now here's where your story gets harder to believe. There is no room 213." "I must have the number wrong then," Gina said. She thought that was the number. Unlucky number 13; it seemed to stick out in her mind. Gina began walking towards the stairs, and Linda followed close behind. "What are you planning to do, knock on every door?" Linda asked. Gina ignored the comment, scratching at her arm in a frustrated manner. I'll knock on every door if I have to, she thought. Whatever it takes to find Crystal. Then we'll go stay in the mansion. The boyfriend can wait.
Gina walked immediately to room 211, then she backtracked to room 215. "I know it was 213." Gina said. "You heard what Jay said," Linda began, "There is no room 213." "Well not now." Gina said. She started knocking on the wall, trying to see if any of the wall paper was loose. "Why don't we go downstairs, and talk this out," Linda said. Gina did not respond to the comment. She began screaming Crystal's name, pounding on every door on that side of the hall. Jay emerged moments later and stood close to Linda, his arms crossed. "Are you satisfied yet?" Jay asked in a sarcastic tone. "I'm calling the police," Gina said. She ran down the stairs in search of a phone. When she described what happened to the police, Gina couldn't help but feel she was being interrogated. The investigator seemed to slowly question her story, his once patient demeanor growing condescending. Finally he asked her two questions that made her feel helpless. "Have you been drinking?" and then the very helpful, "are you sure this is the right hotel? There's one down the street." Gina finally contacted Crystal's family who continued the investigation, but after a week in Georgia they were no closer to solving the mystery. When Crystal's father began acting like the investigator, Gina saw this as her cue to return home. Part of her felt like she was abandoning her friend, but she couldn't go on being treated like a suspect instead of a victim.
One week later, Gary Sullivan hit the button on his cellphone so that the hotel's calls were forwarded to his phone. He took a reservation from a young girl named Jennifer, then switched the calls back to the hotel. She was arriving Thursday; the day that Linda occupied Jay's time.
When Thursday rolled around, Gary placed the sign reading "213" above "215." He walked down to the lobby and disconnected the bell, careful not to set it off as he did so. He waited in the doorway for Jennifer to arrive. They come here for southern hospitality, he thought, and southern hospitality is what I give them. Copyright 2008 O. Caringa |
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