Inveigle

Chapter Eight: Thinking Clearly

When I got back to The Palace, I took my place behind the counter and settled in for a long night. I manually turned the television off as soon as I heard Pam's bedroom door shut upstairs. Sam came out of his room and turned Pam's chair around to face me. He sat down and looked me over.

"How did that happen?" he asked, touching his forehead where the scratch was on my own.

"It was a misunderstanding," I muttered.

He folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward on his knees. The silence between us was heavy. He was thin, but I noticed the lean muscles on his dark arms. The poor lighting in The Palace made the shadows between the muscles more pronounced. I leaned on the wooden counter, then stood up and began wiping down the small drawers where we kept papers and keys. I didn't want him to catch me looking at his body, so I kept my eyes focused on what I was cleaning.

"Is Pam your grandmother or something?" Sam asked.

I kept my eyes on the dirty dust rag I had in my hand, but answered, "No, she just sort of took me in a while back when I was down on my luck. Well, I mean, I haven't exactly regained my luck since I've been here, but yeah. She's just my boss."

"How long do you think she will let me crash here?" he asked.

I stopped wiping down the counters and looked up at him. His eyes looked big and round in the dim lighting, but kind and worried.

"I don't know," I replied. "Pam can be kind of hard to read sometimes."

He made a sound from somewhere between his throat and chest that acknowledged my reply. He looked at me with his eyes that somehow seemed to be growing larger for another second or two. Then he shifted in his seat and looked at the rag in my hands.

"Do you need help with anything?"

"Oh no. I mean really I am just doing this to stay awake. No one really comes here this late, and I can't actually get this place clean."

"Oh, well, um, let me know if you ever need anything." There was more heavy silence. He opened his mouth again as if to say something, but he closed it and his cheeks blushed. After the awkwardness in the room became unbearable he pushed himself up from his knees and said goodnight.

It was 1:00 a.m. when I finally locked the front door. My eyes had become so heavy I was afraid I would fall asleep standing up. I made my way to the bathroom. The shower was filthy with grime. I made a mental note to scrub it tomorrow before any of the guests woke up. We gained a new family last night with two small boys. Pam gave them a, "You poor thing, your home went up in smoke," discount. Only $10.00 a bed, not bad.

I let the water roll down my skin. The steam felt good after a long, cold day. I took a washcloth and began to strip the dirt of the day away before bed. I washed my face, and that's when I noticed the drain. In each water droplet slipping down the drain I saw...well, I saw a little me. Laughing and enjoying the water slide.

That's not right. There's only one of me. Suddenly, I found myself in a water droplet, rolling down my own leg and off my pinky toe. I looked up to see my giant face twisted in confusion. The drain neared, and I laughed and smiled. Down I slid into the darkness, leaving myself behind.

With a splash I found myself in a gray lighted area and clothed in a gray suit. My nails were painted white instead of plain and cracked from doing dishes. The water was absorbed into the ground, and I was dry. A cement walled maze with no sunlight to tell me what direction I was facing loomed all around me.

Follow the right wall. I thought this to myself for hours running my fingers along the gray concrete walls. Finally, I saw something other than gray. A multitude of colors of skin and clothes. I ran for it, beyond glad to be out of the gray monotony. As I exited the maze, I heard the screams of a crowd of people below me. I turned around and the maze was gone, replaced by a solid cement wall with no seams to indicate where I had just exited from.