reservation for two

Bright white light fills in through the window of the darkened, damp room. The lightbulbs buzz hopefully from their fixtures, flickering on and off until finally dimming out. They're lucky; they always have been. Sheltered within their glass home, and furthermore by the plastic that dangles precariously from the cracked, peeling ceiling. The room doesn't even smell dry; there's an overwhelming stench of waterlogged wood floors from who knows how long ago. The occasional mosquito buzzes in the swampy second floor lagoons that somehow only barely drip through into the first-floor lobby. But the lobby has never been for visitors. Only residents. Visitors, of course, are welcome, but they will not be leaving. At least, not for a while. They always return.

Past the grand staircase, there is a room. In the prime of its days, it was a janitorial closet. The maids would gossip and secretly smoke their cigarettes on their lunch breaks, filling the air with the sweet smell of marlboro. It still smells like them; roses and lung decay. Beyond there lies the bar. Many a man came and drank here, came and cared for another woman while his spouse was at home with the children. Many a man laid with another man in this place, secretly, of course. Though, it is also worth mentioning, these walls only serve to hold secrets.

The stench of old whiskey and sweat serves as such a reminiscent feature of the grand ballroom. Onlookers would say it is the murals on the ceilings, or perhaps the age-broken chandeliers and candelabras that sleep on the floor. They are wrong; for those are just the physical. Those are just the curb appeal. If you are looking for beauty, come to the ballroom. Every night there is an opportunity to dance, regardless of age or quality of life. And every night, the chandelier swings at exactly nineteen minutes and twenty seconds past nine o’clock, casting silhouettes on the walls. Can you hear it? The band always has plays the most beautiful pieces. Smell it-the shrimp cocktails and tonic stained breaths that whisper the most vulgar to the most beautiful.

It is beautiful, don’t you think? Can you hear the click-clack of the heels too? The broken cries are a bit deafening but do try and move past them. Perhaps we should get you a drink, you are looking ever so lowly tonight. Are you feeling okay? Did the dancing make you sick again? It’s alright, just come with me to the bar and we’ll have you up and running all right again. Well. You know what I meant. How about more stories? Will that help?

The fourth floor has always been one of trouble. All the maid’s quarters were there, and you know how they got after a new group came in. Of course, there were good maids; those who kept to themselves, kept their mouths shut, and…oh, who are we kidding. That’s about all they kept shut, ha-ha. Oh, but the bad maids…what a fun bunch! Sneaking into the bar, knowing fully well that it was men’s only past eleven at night. They were sly, though; taking off their rouge and lip stain, tying their locks into a bun and hiding it under a man’s hat. It was always interesting to see which men caught on to their game and which believed it wholly, yet still pursued them. Don’t you miss it? All of the hiding brought so much fun, did it not? Well, I suppose.

The most intriguing, though, is that no one ever left. Everyone who wanted to always came back in one way or another. Then again, who wouldn’t? We have everything; music, alcohol, secrets. These walls have so much hiding within them, so many stories and affairs, whispered words and broken promises. But you, oh you…you’d never break a promise, would you? Because you’re a good one…you’ve got whatever that French phrase is. You’ve got it all, darlin’. You always have, though, haven’t you? Such a pretty face on a pretty body, pretty mind that never speaks too much. Ain’t that right? Oh, don’t leave just yet. We’ve still gotta dance, ’member? I think that’s enough, come on. Dance with me.

Listen to those saxophones. Aren’t they something? All those beautiful notes so low and-oh, listen to all that reverberation. You wanna twirl yet? Alright. Just let me know. It sure means a lot to see you again; I was worried I never would. I know that’s silly, you always come back. Everyone always does. I just think it’s awful funny how I always find you. Wanna come back to my suite? It’s up on the fourth floor, remember? Come on, sweetie. Promise I’ll treat you right.

Look at all those beautiful stairs. I’ve always loved ’em, haven’t you? All the pretty gold lining the steps…positively gorgeous. Oh, don’t be shy! It’s just my room, silly! You’ve been here before! It’s alright, I don’t expect you to remember anyways, they never do. Anyways, just give me one moment and I’ll be right with you! You know where to go! Just there, on that green sofa.

The room is bright; yellowed bulbs shine in the broken fixtures. There’s a buzz, but it isn’t important. There’s also a spot on the carpet that seems…familiar. It seems as though it is a part of you, a part of your being. It’s probably nothing.

What a strange night…you never do this, especially with the family at home. You’re away on business. You don’t even drink…why did you drink? Why are you here? Who is she?

I’m back! That wasn’t too bad, now was it? Naw…can I make it up to you? I can be real good…sit nice and pretty on your lap, that okay? I know you’ve got your honey at home, and those awfully cute babies but…what’s a gal like me to do? Locked up in these walls all day long…well. There’s a good one. See? I ain’t doing anything disastrous. Just a wee bit of cuddling, it isn’t illegal or nothin’!

It’s strange…why are you letting this happen? Never, ever, would you consider this. Who is she? Why is she acting like this? Is she going to hurt you?

Naw, course not silly! I’d never! You’re too sweet for any of that. Oh, dear, seems like I’ve given myself a hang nail! Hand me my clippers?

How do you know where they are? Why are you giving them to her?

Thanks, sweetie. Now, you know, this hurts me an awful lot. You ever had one before? It stings, don’t it? These here are a new type’a clippers…mhmm… they have a file attached! Ain’t that handy! Yeah, alright. Think I’m all done.

Why is she kissing your cheek?

Now, you know why I’m like this, don’t you? I’m not usually like this, I promise! I never take random strangers up to my room but…there’s somethin’ about you. I’ve known it forever, but I guess you just don’t see it, else you wouldn’t still be here. Why can’t you learn it, darlin’? Can’t you see it? Can’t you see that you can get outta here?

What is she talking about?

Course. I shoulda known. Well. I just want you to know…the reason I brought you up here, and I always have…well. It’s awful strange for a girl like me to be doing so much talking, ain’t it? Well. You know you’ve always been my favorite, right?

And, just like that, a searing, curdling pain in your chest, in your neck, erupts. Violent spasms and constrictions overcome your body, and you cry for help, but she does nothing. It feels like you’re bleeding but you’re not, where did your body go? Is it getting brighter in here? Where did she go? Where is your body, why does it smell like whiskey and formaldehyde? Your mouth is full of…dirt? You’re screaming but no sound is coming out, you see your spouse and children crying, why? Where are you? It’s dark again, it’s so dark, it’s…a room. There’s a light fixture buzzing above you, grasping on to whatever life is left before it dims completely.