© 2014 by tore56789 (GOS) All rights reserved.
When Tobias arrived back, he was amazed to see the Land Rover wasn’t parked outside. Could have been simply they had gone somewhere? Curiosity getting the better of him, he wondered into the reception dwelling –in his host, Doctor Jillian Cooper.
The owner wasn’t at the desk. But he could hear the sound of a TV in the background, with some comedy program on it –like maybe Saturday Night Live. He instructed the girl to shake the bell. Moments later, he heard the owner scolding in the background, saying things like, “Can’t you see I’m busy. Can’t you give an old man a break? Just a lousy ten minutes.” After that, he heard him laughing again, as he seemed to be talking away to himself. “You tell it Johnny, ha, ha, ha. If that isn’t the craziest thing I ever heard. What do you think Duke? Can’t that boy tell it how it is?”
Tobias assumed the jovial note was more than likely down to drink. Even though, he found it odd to assume the owner thought he could act that way, when his hotel was still open. If it was after hours, he could’ve related much better to such conduct. Duke, he recognized by name, as the Irish wolfhound, he had seen barking earlier, from behind the reception.
He rang again, thinking if the old coot didn’t come this time, he’d let it slide. As he had already decided he’d booked into a crazy place, anyhow. And come morning, he would be out of there, never wanting to look back. His hopes as well, he’d be successful this time, and leaving the early twenty first century, and returning to his own time.
After waiting several more minutes, he turned, and walked towards the door. As he did, a part of him guessed, he probably wasn’t the only guest tonight who had taken that root; tired of waiting like some bloody old fool at that desk.
His room was as uninviting as when he left it. Even the trip down the walk had a certain Bates motel quality to it. Rooms he passed unoccupied, with curtains left open. But in truth, he felt, no one would really want to stay here, unless they had to; like after a long drive perhaps, and needing a stopover, because there was nothing one could say was anyway appealing to an outsider about the location. He guessed, as crazy as it was, the heartbeat of the whole area, was that tavern and bar next to it, where he had just come back from, in that village, some miles down the road.
In the distance, as he lay back on the bed in his host, the faint noise of the TV, with the laughter, could still be heard. Also, through the window, a bold summer’s moon painted the walls in a strange bright blue. He knew he needed to do something about that, if he was ever going to get to sleep, as he could never drift off with the moon light shining on his face; which went away back to when he was little.
He was grateful it was Sunday tomorrow, as the traffic would be far easy going; especially if he left as soon as it was light.
Arriving at the desk, in the morning, the old man didn’t speak, as he dropped the key in front of him. He just eyed his host momentarily –in a way that said to Tobias, oh, it’s you again! So who gives a toss.
Maybe that look was what forced him to get his host to voice, “Did a couple by the name of Jed and Becky, book in here yesterday evening?”
“Na, can’t recall,” he said looking up from the magazine, he had on the counter.
“You don’t remember hearing a teenage couple ringing that bell of yours like crazy, after, or around nine?”
“Naw, had been a bit busy in the back. Duke usually anyhow tells me if someone is here at the desk. But last night he didn’t trouble me none with one of his barks,” he said after a moment, without bothering to look up.
Tobias knew he was lying. He was sure the dead heard that bell! A part of him more than anything else believed this old man didn’t like seeing people, laughing, expressing outwardly they wanted to have fun. It was like he was an estranged individual, existing solely to be miserable, and wanting others to be likewise –as he buried his life in drink?
