The Hotel

Sunlight filtered through the blinds. She woke up, shifted, and then sat up.

“Oooooogh,” she said, and clutched her head. Her eyelids were too heavy and she hurt everywhere. She glanced at the clock next to the bed and tried to focus. It was later than she’d woken up yesterday.

A hot bath, that’s what she needed. Her feet touched the oak parquet floor and she padded to the bathroom. She had to grab the doorframe when her legs trembled, but she managed to turn on the water in the shower-bath. Ten minutes later she undressed and sank into the tub.

The water was like a hug from God. She felt her shoulders relax and she sighed as she rested her eyes. She thought about going back to bed but she could stand to eat and there was the boy to think about. The last time she’d seen him, he'd just started a shoot 'em up game in the arcade.

She lingered in the bath, and her skin was long past pruney when she started to get up.

* * *

It was quiet in the vast hotel. Soft music was playing somewhere and soft light seemed to be coming from everywhere. She padded down the hallway carpet and looked around the empty corridors until she found him. Predictably enough, he was still in the arcade.

“Bwuh?” he said. “I thought you were having an early night.”

“I did sleep. Have you been here all night?”

He blinked and squinted. “It's morning already?”

“It seems so.” She checked her new phone. It was around ten in the morning.

He sighed. “I forgot to sleep again.”

She thought he was joking but his tiredness seemed genuine. “You haven’t slept?”

“No, I’ve just been here playing with my buddies Obie and Jack.”

She looked at the two other boys in the gaming room. Both of them had their eyes glued to their games, too busy to notice her. “So you’ve been playing all night?”

“Unh-huh,” the boy said. “You hungry?”

She thought for a moment and realized she was starving. The last time she ate was yesterday. She nodded.

“Lemme ask my buddies if they want to join us.” He went to both of them and they each shook their head. “Well, I guess it's just the two of us for . . . brunch, I guess?”

She nodded, smiling a little. They went down to the big empty dining hall.

“Ah, they’ve started changing out the breakfast menu,” he said.

As before, she was baffled by the room’s emptiness. With its high windows and elegant tables and chairs the place was made for huge groups of people, but so far they were the only two people she could remember using it.

The boy started filling his plate with something savoury and dark, with a side of rice. “I’m going for the lunch offerings but help yourself to the breakfast items if you like.”

She glanced at the day’s menu, many of which looked exotic. She filled her plate with a few familiar-looking dishes and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

They went to a nearby table. She looked at the boy. “What’re you eating?”

“Chicken livers in adobo sauce.”

She looked at it more closely. The liver bits looked tender and smelled of spices. “Is it good?”

“Want a bite?” He offered a spoonful.

She nodded and opened her mouth.

He grinned. “Here comes the aeroplaaaaane . . .”

“Henh.” She closed her eyes and took the bite. She chewed. The liver was juicy and the adobo sauce was salty and spicy and vinegary. She hummed in satisfaction. “It’s good!”

“Can I get you some for seconds?”

She clutched her stomach. She was still hungry. She glanced at the food bar, then at the boy. “All right, but I’ll do it.”

As filled her second plate he called from the table. “Looks like yesterday’s cleaning job gave you an appetite!”

“Yeah, cleaning took a lot more energy than I’d expected. I needed a hot bath first thing this morning.”

She looked at him as she cut another slice of meatloaf. “So . . . can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

She took another bite of her scrambled eggs before speaking. “It's just that I was wondering . . . You still have no memories, right?”

“I have some memories. I know the names of things, how to use a knife and fork and how to tie my shoes. I just don’t know my name, how we got here, or why so many doors are locked in this Art Deco monstrosity.”

She thought about the arcade and how cleaning it had unlocked the library. She wondered if cleaning the entire hotel would reveal its secrets. She tilted her head. “You've tried all the doors?”

“I have tried every door I could reach, top to bottom.”

Her eyes widened. “You’ve checked every door in this hotel? It must’ve taken you forever!”

“Before you arrived, I-I had time. Don’t ask me how long, but yeah.”

Her eyes went wide. The boy had been alone for some time but seemed normal enough. “You must’ve been lonely.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, then shrugged.

She took a few more bites before changing the subject. “What’s your favourite music?”

“Oh, all kinds, but lately I’m really liking electro swing. Have you heard of it? I’ll play something on my phone, it's by Caravan Palace.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t, no. . . . But play it. I’d love to hear it!”

He played Lone Digger and she perked up. It was a very modern sort of music but she found herself enjoying it. She tried following the lyrics, watching the boy snap his fingers to the music.

“The music video is brutal though. A night in the town ending in a deadly bar brawl.”

“Wait, really? The music video is violent?”

“See for yourself.” He turned the phone toward her.

She looked closely at the phone screen. Anthropomorphic cats and dogs spilled each other's blood onscreen.

Her throat had gone dry. “I . . .” She shivered.

“Hey, hey, it’s not real, okay? It’s hand-drawn animation.”

She took a deep breath. No one was truly hurt. She shut her eyes and exhaled as slowly as she could. She felt him squeeze her hand and felt comforted. “You’re right. Nobody really got hurt.”

“We’re doing brunch right now, is what we’re doing,” he said. “Do you have any plans afterward?”

She thought for a moment, trying to take her mind off the fight scene. She shook her head. “I haven’t thought much about my plans, to be honest.”

“No pressure, no pressure.”

Her smile faded as the thought about the two boys. Yesterday it had been just her and this boy, and now there were four. She wondered if she’d be left behind now that there were other people in the hotel. “What about you?” she asked.

“Do I need sleep?” the boy wondered to himself. “Well, I'm up for whatever you'd like to do.”

“Could we explore together?”

“Sure! Where’d you like to go?”

She grinned. “Have you ever been to the library?”

“The doors were locked yesterday. Did you get them open?”

She smiled even wider. “After we spent most of yesterday cleaning the arcade, the library doors unlocked. The hotel app told me.”

“Shit, is that how it works?” He checked his phone. “Well, what do you know.”

“Yep. But there’s so many books, I don’t even know where to begin.”

* * *

“This place is a dump. Even worse than the arcade was.” The boy pulled a book from the shelves and opened it, fanned dust into his face. “"Pfah! Pfah, I say!"

She stifled a laugh. There was a ridiculous amount of dust in the library.

He got his coughing under control. “I don’t think we're gonna be able to clean all this today, if that's what you want to do.”

She looked around, gazing at the stacks of books and the layers of dust on the tomes, tables, and chairs. She sighed, picturing the work needed to make the place habitable.

“So, shall we keep exploring instead?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I doubt we’d be able to do much with this library today. What do you want to do?”

“Whoa, pressure.”

“Oh, no no no. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“I’m kidding, sis.”

She laughed along before realizing what he’d said. She’d never had a brother before.

“Have you been to the roof deck? There’s like a park up there.”

“I haven’t,” she said. “I’d love to go up there.”

They took one of the glass elevators to the top floor, which seemed to be full of conference rooms, then headed for the stairs to the roof deck.

“Told ya it’s like a park,” he said, as they stepped out into the open air.

It was like being in a castle courtyard. There were four towers, one at each corner, and they had just stepped out of the stairwell of one of them. There was a glass pyramid in the centre of the roof deck and four smaller pyramids around it, each at the centre of its own quarter of the roof deck. Each quarter had something different. The northwest quarter had a little guest house, the northeast quarter had space for outdoor dining, the southeast quarter had the playground (and chain-link fencing), and the southwest quarter had a pool and multi-sport court

“It’s beautiful,” she said, trying to take everything in. “This is amazing!”

“I’m pleased I could show it to you.”

She smiled at him, then walked to a bench by the edge of the roof deck. “It’s honestly like another world up here.” She closed her eyes for a moment. It was a sunny day, but this high up there was a constant breeze. “This is a nice change from the musty library downstairs.”

“You wanna just sit around?”

She looked at the grassy area in front of her and nodded. “Yes, let’s sit on the lawn.” She got up from the bench and sat on the lush green grass, sighing as the breezed brushed across her arms. She tucked her knees toward her chest and looked at the sky. The boy did the same.

She looked him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

She but her lip. “Do you remember where you came from?”

“We talked about this yesterday. I don’t remember any of that.”

“You really don’t remember anything from before?”

He shook his head. “I feel like I should be missing people, but I also know I’ll see them again. I'm used to being alone. And it's a lot less lonely when I'm with you.”

She caught his gaze. “You don’t feel so lonely around me?”

“That’s right. I miss people a lot less when I’m with you.”

She smiled, then looked at the grass. “But don’t you miss your family? Your friends?”

He shrugged.

“Do you even know how old you are?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’ve hit puberty yet. Why?”

“I mean, I was just curious.”

“Curious about puberty? I’m sure there's books in the library.”

“N-no! Not-not books on puberty! I just wanted to know about your age. Nothing else.” She felt her cheeks redden the slightest bit. “About the question I asked—do you miss not having a family? A mum and dad?”

“I think I was abandoned, actually.”

“Oh.” For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. “Do you remember why you were abandoned?”

“I remember there was fighting, and things falling apart. My parents put me in a little spaceship and shot me into space. After a few weeks I landed on Earth.”

Her eyes went wide. The boys parents put him on a spaceship? That wasn’t the usual way of abandoning someone. Was he making it up? He seemed totally serious. “You don’t remember what the fighting was about?”

“Heh. Don’t read a lot of comics, do you?”

“Uhm, no. Why would I read comics?”

“I just rattled off Superman’s origin story, heh heh heh.”

Her face fell and she facepalmed.

“Hah-hah!” he said, pointing.

She looked at his pointing finger and rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. Okay, I fell for it.”

“Cuz you’re a girl who doesn’t read comics.”

“Hmph,” she said. “So what if I don’t read comics?”

“I’d say you’re missing out.”

“Missing out? How is not reading comics 'missing out’?” Her pout increased.

“I mean, you look like a girl who reads. Why not read things—with pictures!”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I look like I read real, classic literature, not childish comics!”

“Hey, comics are literature!”

“Hah! Since when?”

“Oh, man, you really are missing out. It’s just, the stories have gotten a lot better. These aren't reprints of newspaper comics anymore.”

She was still confused as to how doodles on paper suddenly became literature. “Hmph. Well then, what’s your favourite comic?”

“Probably The Dark Knight Returns. It’s a Batman comic. They made an animated adaptation too, the library probably has both.”

“Animated adaptation? You mean like a cartoon?”

“Yes, my dear. Like a cartoon.” He rolled his eyes.

She folded her arms tighter. “Oh, sure. A cartoon based off of a childish comic is suddenly ‘literature.' How sophisticated.”

“Hey!”

She smirked and leaned forward a little. “What? I’m right, aren’t I?”

“I’d get up from the lawn but I’m too comfortable.”

The smirk remained on her face. “Aww, is someone too comfy to move?”

“Whatever. That’s a grandma opinion. You're a grandma.”

She huffed. “Puh-lease. I am not a grandma. I'm fifteen!”

His eyes were closing. “Must’ve been born an old woman.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, very funny.” Then, she noticed that his eyes were drooping. “You’re not about to fall asleep out here, are you?”

But he was snoring gently.

She shook her head. He had just called her a grandma for not reading comics and now he’d fallen asleep in the middle of the conversation. On one hand, she could leave him and find something else to occupy her time. On the other hand . . .

She quietly stood up off the grass and leaned down. She got close to his ear and whispered, “Hey, psst, hey. Hey, wake up . . .”

“Mmm? Wasshappening?”

“Nothiiiiiing,” she said, poking his cheek.

“Good grief, woman, there you are again with your terrible bedside manner.”

She chuckled. She began to use both hands to poke his cheeks. “Come on, sleepyhead. Wake up.”

“Whafor? I’m comfortable.”

She laughed. “Just get up for a moment. Please? Come oooonn” She began to poke his cheek relentlessly.

“Okay, okay.” He sat up with his back to her. “Now what?”

“Just . . . don’t move for a second. Stay still, okay?”

“All right.”

Her smirk widened, and he started to take off one of her shoes. She was right behind him. She held her shoe high over his head and let it drop.

“Ow!” he said. “What the hell?”

She burst into laughter. Both of her hands flew to her mouth in a vain attempt to muffle it. She just couldn’t help it. His face was priceless!

“Hrm.” he said.

She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. “Serves you right for calling me a grandma.”

He sighed.

“Aww, are you pouting now for getting a shoe dropped on you?”

“I’m tired,” he said. “I was up all night. And you’ve been really critical of the things I love, you know that?”

She rolled her eyes. “You were playing video games all night, which was such a childish thing to do. You wasted your time.”

“If you’re going to be like that, then I’m going to bed.” He rolled to his feet.

She watched as he walked away and she spoke to get the last word in. “You’re not even going to say good night?”

He waved with his back turned and then he was gone.

“What a child,” she muttered. She sat back down and picked up her shoe. As she pulled it back on, she chuckled. It had been petty and childish, yes, but he’d deserved it. “Teach him to call me a grandma.”

She leaned back on her hands and looked at the sky. She sighed. “This day is going to go on forever, isn’t it?”

The wind picked up, rustling through the grass. She let out another sigh. She must have dozed, because the next thing she knew the sun was low and the sky was streaked with orange, pink, and gold.

She went down to the dining hall. The food was as fresh and tasty as always but she didn’t see the boy at any of the tables. She sat down and started slowly eating.

As she absently pushed the food around on her plate, it occurred to her that she didn’t know where his room was. He had a keycard, yes, but she’d never spotted the number.

She pushed food around with her fork. The hotel was too quiet. She thought for a moment before nodding to herself and pushing her chair out, leaving her half-eaten dinner behind. She began walking toward the closest staircase leading up the rooms. She wondered for a moment whether this was a good idea before beginning to climb. She walked down a hallway on the fourth floor, her shoes making soft sounds on the carpet. She walked past the doors, reading every number. “SE440 . . . SE441 . . . SE442 . . .”

She turned a corner and went down another hallway, her eyes flicking to the door numbers. “SE445 . . . SE446 . . .” She hesitated again. Was he really in one of these rooms? What would she do if she found the room?

Intellectually, she knew that the hotel actually had quite a few rooms. She could search for days and never find him. Still, she pushed on. “SE447 . . .” She turned a corner and wondered how she’d even tell which room was his. It's not like they had nameplates. And what was she going to do, just knock? She felt her cheeks starting to warm. Her? Knocking on his door? Ridiculous.

She thought about the library she still had to clean. She had an actual job to do instead of running around looking for some boy. Maybe it was best if she went and took care of that. At least it’d be productive.

As she turned to head back in the direction of the stairs, a sound caught her attention. Her head whipped around—it was the sound of a door opening. She took a few tentative steps down the hall. She could feel her pulse in her throat. Only a few more doors . . .

She heard footsteps. Someone was definitely in one of the rooms.

Her heart pounded in her chest. For a few moments she stood at the end of the hall, waiting. Listening. She heard footsteps again and she walked to one of the doors. Holding her chest, her pulse thudding in her head, she brought her hand up and knocked, the sound of her knuckles on wood shockingly loud. She waited for a response from inside . . .

Nothing.

She waited, and she was just about to give up and leave when she heard footsteps again. Her heart leaped and she placed her ear against the door. Someone was shuffling around on the inside.

She knocked on the door and pressed her ear against it once more. The silence stretched on, and just when she thought she’d been imagining things a voice came from the other side. “Who is it?”

She tried to speak but her mouth felt too dry. She just stared at the door. It had sounded like an old man.

“May I ask what you want?” the voice asked. Definitely an old man, with a slight accent.

She swallowed before opening her mouth. “I-I'm Emma.”

“And why would you be knocking on my door, Emma?”

She bit her lip. “I-I wanted to talk to . . .”

“To me? But I don't know you, dear girl.”

Why had she come here looking of the boy anyway? She suddenly felt very silly. “N-Never mind.”

“All right then. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

She walked away with her head hanging down. She felt like the biggest fool as she thought about all the things she could’ve done instead. She could've had a more leisurely dinner or made a start of cleaning the library or anything else.

Eventually her wanderings brought her to the library. Her mood worsened as she looked around. She needed cleaning supplies but didn’t know where she could find a janitor's closet. She let out a huff. The only thing to do now was to look for that stupid closet.

Her footsteps sounded louder than usual as she padded down the hall. Her pace increased and she glanced around, feeling like she was being watched. She found an un-numbered door where she would expect a janitor's closet to be, but the door wouldn't budge.

She groaned. She wasn’t going to get any cleaning done without the boy's help. She thought about searching for him and realized she was going in circles. Which was all she'd managed to do that day: go in circles.

She sighed. She might as well give up and have something to eat. She turned on her heel and begrudgingly returned to the dining hall. Once again, soft music was playing somewhere, but the silence rang loud. Her shoes clicked on the tile floor. She took a seat and scanned the room. It felt like someone was watching her again, but the buffet was there as always. She got up to fill a plate. She had some roast beef, some macaroni, and a slice of sweet potato pie.

As she cut the meat into small pieces, she glanced around the huge room. It felt like someone was looking right at her, and yet she was alone. She turned her attention back to her plate, savouring the taste of good roast beef. She leaned back and sighed as she finished her meal. It was time for bed.

* * *

She pulled the blanket over her. At least in her room she never felt like she was being watched.

She remembered how her father would hold her close when she had trouble sleeping. She’d crawl to his bed and slip under the covers and he would hold her until she fell asleep again. She was still dreaming of happier times when she woke up.

She blinked: she was fully-awake, and not groggy at all. She sat up, noticing that her hair was tangled from tossing around. She rubbed her eyes and her stomach rumbled.

It was earlier than she usually began a new day but the sun and risen and it was as good a time as any to got out of bed. She stretched and reached for her robe.

* * *

She shut the door behind her. Her slipper-covered feet padded down the carpet as she scanned from side to side. The Pyramidion was as eerie as ever but she reached the dining hall without anything happening.

The breakfast buffet groaned under all the dishes. There were sausages, tender bacon slices and crispy bacon slices, and eggs cooked several ways. There were also hash browns, fluffy pancakes and crispy waffles, and a big bowl of sliced fruit. Emma's eyes bounced from one option to another, her mouth watering. She took a plate and moved down the table. She had to go for the pancakes of course, and some hash browns, and a few slices of bacon. She went over to the drink station and grabbed a glass of apple juice.

She sat down at an empty table. She ate a forkful of pancake. It was syrupy and hot. She tried to enjoy it but couldn’t help but look around for the boy, who was still nowhere in sight. She shook the thought away and continued eating. She didn't get distracted from cleaning the library. She took a bite of bacon this time. It tasted like smoky heaven and she groaned.

As she ate, she thought about the hotel, which was getting more mysterious by the minute. She wondered if she should go for seconds. She hadn’t cleaned her plate but the buffet was tempting her back. And it's not like there was anyone to see her be a pig. She pushed her chair aside and went back to the buffet.

She picked up a fluffy waffle, a crispy sausage, and two more strips of juicy bacon. She also poured herself a large glass of milk. Again, it was all perfect. The waffle held just the right amount of syrup in its honeycomb pattern. She continued to stuff her face, occasionally washing things down with cold milk.

A few minutes later she leaned back, feeling warm and full and just a little uncomfortable. She let out a little burp and smiled. It had been a good breakfast . . . but now she was thinking about him again.

“Why can’t I just ignore him?!” she muttered. Still, she needed to clean the library, and for that she needed cleaning supplies, and for those she needed the boy.

She wondered if he was on the roof deck. She could stand some fresh air, in any case.

* * *

When she arrived, she breathed deeply. After all her time spent wandering inside yesterday she appreciated the fresh air and open sky.

She went to the parapet and looked out over the grounds. It looked like the hotel was on a grassy hill and the hill was on a forested island. Only a few little cabins dotted the landscape. The grass, the trees, and the rolling hills in the distance looked like a painting.

Emma looked straight down at a drop of over fifty floors. She wondered if it was possible to climb from her own balcony, which was on the fourth floor, high enough to be scary but low enough to seem doable. She’d never been much of a climber—and her father would disapprove—but she seriously considered it. For now, though, she decided not to test her luck.

She heard splashing. Someone was in the pool. She turned. The sound could mean only one thing! She quickly made her way to the pool and sure enough she saw the boy doing laps.

Part of her itched to stop him, but another part made her hesitate. She sat on a sun lounger and watched him swim from one end of the semi-Olympic pool to the other. Her eyes followed him up and down the length of it and she felt her cheeks getting warm.

After a while he stopped at the near end and poked his head his head over the edge “Nice bathrobe,” he said.

She froze, suddenly remembering she was in her bathrobe and slippers. She wrapped the robe tighter to cover her legs, her cheeks burning.

He heaved out of the pool and stripped off his goggles and swim cap. Wet blonde hair fell down to his shoulders. “What’s up? . . . Hello?”

She shook herself, realizing she’d been staring at his hair. She turned away. “I’m-I'm looking for cleaning supplies.”

“Couldn’t find a janitor’s closet, eh? Sure, let me shower quick.”

She nodded, her face averted. After some minutes he emerged from the stall all dressed and smelling of soap, though his hair was still damp.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, as they walked into a stairwell.

He looked at her. “Y’know, you haven't even apologized yet for dissing my hobbies.”

“Eh?” she said. “All right. I’m sorry for disrespecting your precious hobbies.”

“And I’m sorry for calling you a grandma, although it may happen again.”