Ding! The bell rang aloud from downstairs, my attention now being torn from the photo and my thought to the ringing from below. I took one last look at the picture before heading downstairs to see who our newest guest could be. Once I rounded the bend and came down the staircase, I became aware of a smell that began wafting from the lobby. It wasn’t a terrible smell, it was quite pleasant actually. It had a soft floral scent and undertones of citrus. It was a woman’s perfume. As I reached the last step I could see the woman in question. She was a young woman, not much older than myself, and she had long dark brown hair with notes of caramel and red placed in afro puffs on top of her head. When she turned to look at me, she smiled brightly. Her eyes were similarly brown as her hair only they contained flecks of green and hazel. Her skin was a dark, creamy brown that radiated a sun kissed warmth; she was as tall as a year old sapling and every bit as lean and willowy, wearing a leaf green halter top and blue jean bellbottoms with flowery, yellow and red stitching near the pockets. She was very beautiful.
As I made my way behind the counter, I began to say “Good morning and welcome to the Hotel Bella Muerte, how may we serve you today?” But all I got out was “Good morning and welcome to-” before I noticed something strange. In her bag which sat on the floor was something moving. At first glance all I saw was a swishing, black and white striped tail. I did a double take, and that’s what I saw that the tail was attached to a full grown lemur that now popped its head from the bag. She giggled when she saw the look on my face.
“Isn’t he the cutest!” she beamed. “I’ve had him since he was a baby.”
I had never seen a live lemur before other than at the zoo my family used to visit when I was child or in nature documentaries. I looked from the lemur back the lady and replied. “Yes he is. What is his name?”
“His name is Wally.” She replied.
“Wally,” I echoed, “Wally is a wonderful name for him, may I pet him?”
“Of course, he is so sweet and soft.” She responded.
I bent down to pet the lemur, in awe of having the privilege to touch such a wild and exotic creature. As I reached out my hand slowly the lemur gave it a quick sniff before it nuzzled into my hand. The lady was right; it was very soft and sweet.
“Aww, Wally likes you.” She giggled.
After petting the lemur I returned to my clerkly duties. “How may I help you today Miss……”
“Deborah but you can just call me Deb if you’d like.” She finished my sentence. “I’m just traveling through and I saw this gorgeous hotel and town and thought I’d stay and explore for a little and stay the night.”
“Of course Miss Deborah, any room preferences?” I asked.
“If you have a room with a view of the town that would be nice.” She responded.
“Of course, room #1 has an excellent view.” I said.
I accepted her payment, walked to the name cards, wrote her name down, and grabbed the room key. “You can follow me.”
I took her to room #1, once I opened the door the room almost seemed made for her. I had forgotten the theme of the room; the jungle theme. She squealed with delight when she saw the room and I noticed even Wally perked up at the sight of the various plants and small trees that decorated the room, he would have some place to hide and climb now.
“What a lovely room!” She exclaimed. “I think Wally and I will be right at home here.”
“Wonderful, I’m glad you like it.” I said. “Is there anything more I can do for you?”
“No not at all. I think Wally and I will settle in before leaving to explore the town.” She replied.
“Awesome, well let me know if you need anything, I’ll be around. Till then I’ll let you two settle in and get comfortable.”
“Thanks!” She responded and with that I turned and headed back to my room.
Once there I was able to look at myself in the full length mirror next to the wardrobe. I looked….rough. I had the same clothes on that I had worn the day before, my short sleeved, red checked shirt and skinny jeans were all wrinkled and bunched up in some places. My hair no longer in ponytail, now hung in more of a half ponytail than anything and many strands of hair flowed freely about my face. My makeup had rubbed off and my lipstick smeared, my eyes looked tired and bloodshot and I had raccoon eyes from rubbing my teary eyes the night before. It was anyone’s guess how Deborah didn’t notice and if she did she said nothing for which I was grateful. Now that I had gotten her settled in I decided to take a quick shower, redo my makeup, and put some clean, fresh new clothes on. I chose to wear a bright, happy, navy blue sunflower dress that came to my knees, a yellow short sleeved cardigan to go with it, and my ruby red pumps. To complete the look I added a few articles of jewelry, small, gold hoop earrings and a gold, rose engraved locket that had been passed down in my family for generations.
Once I had finished getting dolled up, I made my way to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before I too, like Deborah began to explore the town. I got to the fridge and looked inside once again, nothing, it was completely empty. I closed it and thought about what I wanted to eat that morning and decided to check the cabinets. The cabinets held exactly what I wanted and nothing more; just a granola bar and an apple. I found this unusual like all the other things at the hotel, but this was one of the more exciting things to be discovered. I took my breakfast items and left the room. As I went down the hallway on my way back downstairs, I decided to check on Mr. Elberton to see if there was anything I could do for him but when I got to room #8, his name card was gone and when I opened the door, so was he. Not a suitcase or hair left behind. I shut the door and went on downstairs. Once downstairs I wrote a note explaining where I was and what cell phone number I could be reached at should I be needed and placed it on the front desk. I then exited the building.
As I stood on the steps leading from the hotel, the late summer’s sun shown bright and hot in the sky, the warmth was penetrating my body, touching my soul. I had needed this, the fresh air and the light of day to wash away all my troubles of the night before. I stepped into the street and began to explore the town. There were only a few buildings left standing of what I’m sure was the original town, many of them damaged by the weather and time, some had been burned and charred in places. The signs on the buildings had faded and were hardly legible, but some I could still read. There were five buildings all total, including the hotel. The one I stood before now was the post office.
The post office was a simple building. Made from the same maple wood that grew here in the woodlands of the east mountain regions of the nearby area, it sat directly next to the hotel in the line of buildings with only an alleyway between them. It looked small and squatty compared to the hotel, only about a third of the size and a fourth of the depth. The sign was inlaid in the wooden front of the building at the highest point just below the sheet metal roof. Out of curiosity I decided to go inside and check the place out.
As I walked into the building, I heard the ringing of a small bell just above my head, signaling my entrance into the building. Walking in, I wasn’t greeted with the normal post office look I had come to know, instead it looked rather bare. There were no modern necessities other than the light bulbs that hung overhead, just a small wood burning stove with a percolator sitting on the only range, a rocking chair that sat next to the back left hand corner of the room near the stove, as well as a few other chairs that sat around a table in the center of the room. I noticed quickly that there was also a wrought iron bed in the other back corner of the room, with an old quilt for a blanket. Other than that there was nothing very spectacular or worth mentioning. Standing in the corner of the room, just beginning to pour himself a cup of coffee from the percolator, was a man of normal height and muscular build.
Without even turning around he asked in a gruff, gravelly voice, “Cup of coffee miss? I have an extra cup.”
He turned after as he said this to look at me directly. I felt my cheeks grow hot and hurried to look away from the man. He was very handsome and looked only a little older than I did. His hair was a sandy blonde and his eyes were candy apple green, very vibrant in color. He had a natural tan and was broad shouldered, giving him an athletic look. He wore a dusty looking, white long john undershirt that had the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearm, a pair of equally dusty and dirty light brown slacks with suspenders, and an old, beige, cowboy hat that looked well worn and weathered.
“N-no thank you.” I stuttered out.
As he walked towards me I could hear the heel of his boots hit the floor. “What can I do for you M’am.”
I forced myself to look up then, my cheeks still blushing. I hoped to God he hadn’t noticed or thought I had simply been out in the hot sun for too long. “I work at the hotel next door to you. I’ve only been here a day and I had some free time, so I decided to check out the town. You were the first stop.”
He looked me up and down then, giving me the once over. I felt so embarrassed, why would my cheeks not stop burning? I decided to cover the one that faced him while I pretended to look at a single hanging mirror on the wall. He came closer still, until he was right in front of me. I looked at him then, for the first time longer than a few seconds, and noticed now that he was up close he also had light freckles on his cheeks and nose. My breath hitched. I didn’t even know this man; he was a stranger to me. So why was I being so shy? Never in my life had I experienced this and I was hoping the feeling would go away quickly. I liked being in control of my own emotions and body.
After looking at me for what seemed like a really long time to me, he spoke again. “So you’re the newest caretaker of the hotel; and what would your name be?”
“Autumn…..Autumn Winters.” I replied still lacking confidence. “And who might you be?”
“My name is Jasper Moon. I’m the postman here in town, but I’m sure you already gleaned that.”
I looked at the place once more and asked “Do you live here in the post office?”
He laughed softly in response. “Yes M’am I do, but I wouldn’t exactly call this place an office. It’s a post and a place to call home, nothing more.”
“Oh…..but you are in charge of delivering the mail and packages, are you not?” I said gaining more confidence by the minute, the redness of my face slowly dwindling.
“Of course.” He snorted then. “That is what I was paid to do after all.”
I felt embarrassed for the second time in his presence; my confidence dashed no sooner than I had gained it. I had just asked such a stupid question, of course he worked there. Why would I think otherwise? I must have stood there a little too long searching for a reply to his sarcasm that had taken me off guard, because he began to laugh again as he turned to walk over to the table. He took one of the chairs and slid it out from under the wooden frame of the table, turned the chair around now to face me, and sat down.
“Well Miss Winters, I must say, my first impression is that you’re not gonna last long here in this town.” He said once he had seated himself comfortably.
“What does that mean?” I retorted growing a little upset.
“Your too…..everything you shouldn’t be; too meek, too timid, too dainty, too young, too small, not too bright, and clearly not equipped to deal with the sort of things you’ll be facing in this town on a daily basis.” He replied taking the first sip of his coffee.
I felt my face growing hot once again, this time not in shy embarrassment but rather in anger. Who was he to judge me? How could he tell I wouldn’t “last long” when he had literally only just met me. What sort of energy was I giving off that read stupid failure to him? Yes I was small, but what did that have to do with anything? Yes I was young, but I was a fully fledged adult who legally could do just about anything under the law. Yes, as I had well figured out, I was inexperienced in dealing with the norms of daily hotel life. I learned that in my first 24 hours. I normally wasn’t shy, I just got flustered over how handsome he was and stumbled over my words a little and asked one obvious question not wanting to just assume things, though the thing that got me most worked up in that moment was that he called me stupid. I was many things, but I was not and never had been stupid.
“Now wait just a minute,” I said moving a little closer to where he sat, “Who are you to tell me what I am and am not? You don’t even know me!”
“I don’t know you, but I know your type. I’ve seen caretaker after caretaker pass through this town and only 3 have lasted longer than a few days or at most a few weeks. Every single one of them, with the exception of the 3, weren’t prepared for and never adapted to this life. It’s just how things have always been and how they always will be till this town no longer stands.” He replied draining his cup in a few large gulps.
“You don’t know that. No one can know that. It’s something time will have to tell.” I said as I crossed my arms in my defense.
“We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we then?” He stood now from his seat placing his empty cup on the table.
“Yes. I guess we will and you’ll see you’re wrong about me.” I said sarcastically as I spun on my heels and headed for the door.
“Have a good day then M’am.” He said as I walked out the door, ignoring him and his goodbye.
I no longer felt like exploring the town after that encounter. It left me frustrated and huffy. I decided to go back to the hotel and just try and work out my frustration by cleaning the place. When I got back to the hotel, I figured that the first thing that would need cleaning was room #8. Since Mr. Elberton had stayed the night, though he left the room in good order, it still needed going over. It took me a moment to gather the cleaning supplies in the closet behind the front desk, but once I had everything I was ready to get started. While walking out from the closet, I accidentally knocked the letter to the ground, and its contents slipped out. When I reached down to pick up the letter, it had opened to the specific rules outlining the cleaning of the various rooms. I took a closer look at it, not remembering having read this part. Why the owners felt the need to write exactly how to clean everything, down to polishing chess pieces I didn’t know, so I continued to read the letter. My eyes scanned the notes and landed the rule for room #8.
Rule # 67 – Make sure to return all items Mr. Elberton takes to the various other rooms in the hotel and buildings in the town.
I was a little confused to say the least. In all the time I had spent with Mr. Elberton the night before, I never seen him take anything. I suppose though he could have hidden any number of items in his pockets or his bag while he was left unattended. Seemed like a simple enough task though, I thought, but things are never simple or easy in the hotel. So I went up to his room with the cleaning supplies and got to work.
In the process of cleaning the room I was shocked by the amount of things Mr. Elberton had taken. There were a number of items, ranging anywhere from as small as a quarter to as large as a baby elephant. Here is a list of the items he had taken:
7 spoons from the dining room.
5 chess pieces from the chess set in the lobby sitting room.
2 dozen boiled eggs from what I could only think would have been the fridge, all of them hidden throughout the room like some sort of poor man’s Easter egg hunt.
4 dolls from the doll room, how he got in there is anyone’s guess, the door is locked during the day and at night after the dolls have been moved to face the wall.
9 some odd books from the library down the way, at least I think they were the library’s books.
12 potted plants from the jungle room where Deborah was now staying, most in the smallest of pots and one young tree.
3 bottles of pills, none of which was in his name but thankfully also not missing pills (yes I counted them all)
And lastly
1 stack of letters with a note attached asking for me to mail the letters.
After hunting down all the eggs and throwing them away, I returned the chess pieces to the sitting room, the dolls to the doll room, placed all the dolls back in their places, and all the spoons to the dining room. The last thing I did was drag the little tree to Deborah’s room as I balanced all the rest of the potted plants on various parts of my body and knocked on the door with my foot. She opened the door and gasped when she saw all the plants that probably looked like they were sprouting from me. Thankfully she didn’t mind my intrusion and asked no questions or even seemed phased when I placed the plants in her room. My last order of business was to return all the items taken from around town.
After gathering all the items together I got ready to take them back to the various places in town, but before I left I needed to put stamps on the stack of letters. I grabbed a booklet of stamps from the front desk drawer. I flipped through letters licking the stamps and placing them on the envelopes as I went along. They were all addressed to people whose names I didn’t recognize but I absent mindedly read through them anyway. Three quarters of the way through the stack I dropped the mail on the floor as my eyes grew wide. Oh. My. God. What had I just done? I began to freak out, wondering what fresh hell I was about to go through all because I licked the damn stamps. I remembered there was something about licking stamps in what I had come to consider my survival manual. I reached behind me and grabbed hold of the letter of rules given to me by the owners and anxiously flipped through the rules. As my eyes scanned the pages, I finally settled on rule #132: Always lick the stamps in the presence of the postman.
What the hell kind of rule was that? Even though I knew the rules were in place for a reason, because so far not following them led me astray, I didn’t want to go back to the same place I had just been and have to talk to the postman. I probably would have knowingly ignored the rule if it hadn’t have been for the sudden and inexplicable dizziness that had suddenly washed over me. I waited for a few minutes to see if the dizziness would pass but it didn’t. That’s when I knew I fucked up for sure. Knowing I was going to have to go back to the “post office” made me angry at myself, knowing I had forgotten the rule made it worse, and knowing I was going to have to basically admit to the postman that he had been right about me made is so, so much worse.
I decided after a few more minutes of debating, when the dizziness only got worse, that I would take the plunge and go next door. As I made my way down the front steps I almost tripped and fell. I felt as if I had had one drink too many, causing me to stumble. Once down the steps I made the trek next door. The distance was probably only about 200 feet, but it seemed almost as if the ground shifted and stretched, becoming longer than what I had previously remembered. The drunken feeling only got worse the further I stepped and my muscles began to weaken. I didn’t know what was wrong with those stamps but, damn if it wasn’t messing me up.
I opened the door this time to find the postman sitting at the table. At least, that was what I thought he might be doing. I couldn’t tell as my mind began to become cloudy and my vision blurred; nothing seemed to make sense. I stumbled inside straight to the center of the room where the table was. I had to hold on to something as the room spun around me. The postman looked up from where he was sitting reading a book when he saw me.
He looked at me, now getting sloppy and droopy, and only shook his head. “Now I know I made you upset when you left here earlier today but I didn’t take you for a drunk. Guess you were right, I did have you pegged wrong.”
“I’m…..I’m not a drunk,” I stammered, “I just licked the….the stamps.”
He let out a belly laugh, deep and long. “Tell me, did you even read the letter given to you by Miss Mary and Miss Martha, or did you just want to see me again so soon?” He teased.
“No!” I said a little too loudly without meaning too.”I just forgot.”
“Well I don’t know what to tell you. You should have those memorized by now. Those rules are the keys to your survival. If you wanna last here I s’pose you better get to it.” He said with a non-empathetic look on his face.
I slumped in the chair nearest to me and to the side of him. “Isn’t there something you can do to make it stop, the spinning I mean.”
“Yes M’am I can,” He said rising from his seat, “but it won’t work nearly as well since you didn’t take it before you licked the stamps.”
“What won’t work as well?” I asked, laying my now pounding head on the table.
“The elixir I make to counter affect the stamps effect.” He answered over his shoulder walking toward a set of cabinets in the back of the room. Pulling out a small, blue glass bottle he walked back and sat down next to me. “How many stamps did you lick?”
“I….I don’t know, maybe 6 or 7. There were a lot of letters to post.” I said in response to his question.
“Well I reckon you better drink that whole bottle then.” He said chuckling.
Why he found this funny I didn’t know, I didn’t know a lot of things at that time. But I did as he said. I pulled the cork out of the top of the bottle and smelled the contents. It smelled disgusting but if it would make the dizziness, splitting headache, weak muscles, and overall terrible feeling I was experiencing, I would have drunk a gallon of the stuff. I tipped the bottle back and gulped the whole thing down before I had a chance to truly taste whatever was in the bottle. I’m glad I did because it was all I could do to hold the liquid down. After a few moments the dizzying effects of the stamps lessened and the headache got better. I still felt weak and worn thin though.
“What did you put on those stamps?” I asked after I had regained my composure a little.
“I didn’t put anything on those stamps. I wasn’t the one who made them but to answer your question, the people who did make them made the glue on the stamps from the sticky resin that comes out of some of the mushrooms that used to grow here.”
“Great, I’m not drunk I’m stoned.” I said as I tried to stand, only to find I couldn’t feel my legs as they gave out from underneath me.
“Whoa there!” he replied jumping up and catching me before I fell. “How about you just lie down and sleep it off. It’s the only thing you can do now. Just know you may have some interesting dreams.”
At this point my whole body went limp and I suddenly found I could no longer talk. Whatever type of mushroom the stamps had been made from or the liquid from the blue bottle must have had a tranquilizing effect. The postman then carried me over to where the bed lay in the corner of the room. He gently placed me on my back, turning me on my side; he placed a pillow behind my back. I had never done drugs in my life up to this point, I hadn’t even smoked weed, but I knew from watching certain TV shows and movies he had placed me on my side to prevent me from choking on my own vomit. I now grew a little afraid. If I had just licked one stamp and drank the liquid from the bottle I probably would have been fine, but I licked multiple stamps and drank the blue bottle elixir. Was I going to be alright? I didn’t have time to even ask the question before I passed out.
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