Hotel Candelabra: Chapters 11, 12 & 13
A super bonus today! Three chapters! We are almost to Day 3!
End of Chapter Ten:
Alden gave me a minute to adjust and then got up and float-walked to the couch. Following him across the invisible floor, I closed my eyes, and float-sat on the invisible couch. I was afraid to open them to look around the room.
Alden outright laughed this time before saying, “You need to open your eyes.”
I laughed in return and responded, “Do I have to?”
“Well,” he said, “the candles are burning.”
He was not wrong. Against my will, I opened my eyes.
Day #2: Chapter Eleven
The couch felt solid under me as my eyes opened to the biggest surprise yet.
“How can this be?!”
I wasn’t sure if I said the words aloud or in my head. I turned to Alden who was smiling at my discomfort—once again.
It was an identical room but completely different all at the same time. This time the objects weren’t shiny, they were…. whitewashed. Not one speck of color could be seen anywhere.
I wondered if the room wasn’t actually different, but the couch just caused me see it differently. It occurred to me that if it was different, the numbers would not be the same, so I looked for the numbers on the doors. They were barely visible in their whitewashed state—it seemed we had moved on to numbers 40 to 59. Yes, it was a different room; we were now on the upper floor.
Returning to look at Alden who seemed to be enjoying watching my brain try to process, I asked, “Why is everything whitewashed?”
I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say, but what he said was not it.
“Staying here too long isn’t healthy. It will drain the life out of you. You have seen all you need to see for now. Let’s go back up to The Flame and have some lunch.”
When I stood up, I realized that the only thing in the room that was not whitewashed was the couch. As I reached the elevator door and looked back, I was not surprised that the couch had vanished along with the rest of the objects in the room—except one. The fog was creeping back into the room and only the floating candelabra remained visible.
Anticipating returning to the familiar, I leaned back against the elevator wall as it crept upward—creaking even more than I remembered it doing earlier in the day. My anticipation for normalcy was short-lived. I could hear the room before the elevator doors opened.
Day #2: Chapter Twelve
Alden and I stared at each other as the sound of laughter came through the elevator doors. We were even more astonished when the doors crept open.
“We have lunch waiting for you!” 69 exclaimed.
Sure enough, the table had been transformed with a crocheted tablecloth and pink-flowered china. There were eleven seats around the table and as we all sat down, Alden looked slightly out of place at what appeared to be a lady’s luncheon.
I looked around the table, grateful that the stem of the candelabra was tall enough to not block everyone’s view of each other. They all seemed to be in a much better mood than the night before. They all began to laugh and speak over each other as they related how their small world had changed so dramatically in one day.
“I was afraid to shut my door last night.”
“Yes, said another, “I was too! What if it didn’t open again in the morning….”
“But it did!” another chimed in only to be interrupted by her neighbor. “I didn’t even want to try until I got dressed. I wanted to believe it would open and be ready to get out.”
“It was kind of strange that we all got ready and opened our doors at the same time. It reminded me of synchronous swimming as we glided out of the rooms.”
69 laughed and looked at me, “Let me introduce you to 65. She is the storyteller. Always writing in her head.”
I smiled at 65 and was sure we would be great friends. Alden took the pause as an opportunity to ask, “Where did you find everything to set the table and make lunch?” He seemed a bit hurt that he was no longer the sole person who could do this kind of magic.
69 motioned across the table and said, “That would be 63. She found a stairway that led down to the kitchen.” Alden seemed even less happy as his magical appearances could now be explained away.
“Enough of this!” 69 exclaimed, “Let’s eat!”
It did not take much prompting. The spread of small finger sandwiches and lemon bars was just what my hungry stomach and sweet tooth needed!
The conversation continued as everyone wondered why they were suddenly able to leave their rooms. I learned that their hopes were dashed when they went into the lobby from the kitchen and saw that their release from their rooms did not cause the front entryway door to materialize again.
We were together, but we still could not leave Hotel Candelabra.
Day #2: Chapter Thirteen
Every eye around the table turned to stare at me when an involuntary and extremely loud yawn escaped. Offering a sheepish sorry, I insisted it wasn’t the conversation.
“Of course not,” 69 consoled. “We forget that this has been a lot for you.”
“Maybe she needs a nap.” I would come to learn that 62 was an avid believer in naps.
Everyone murmured in agreement as 69 said, “Yes, go take a nap. We will talk more at dinner.”
Almost stumbling to my room, I fell on the bed fully clothed, and sleep came instantly. That did not mean that my subconscious was finished trying to make sense of the strange circumstances that had somehow taken over my life. My dreams were filled with vanishing objects and ancient elevators. I woke with a jerk when one elevator ride seemed to miss the lobby and fell crashing into the basement. I looked up at the clock on the dresser and realized I had been asleep for two hours.
Wait. Is there a basement? That felt unsettling.
The thought evaporated as my door opened, “Oh good, you are awake. We have done a bit of decorating out here when you are ready to come and take a look.” And she immediately began to shut the door.
“Wait, which one are you?”
She laughed, “It is confusing, isn’t it? We were also confused so we spent the afternoon figuring out what we do best. 68 Created a list for you—she is our organizer. I will set it here on this table for you.”
Pulling a piece of paper from her pocket, she set it on a small table by the door and was gone. Willing myself out of the bed, I walked over to retrieve it. She hadn’t told me who she was, but I quickly spotted her on the list. She most likely was 67.
You might want to grab a copy of that list to refer to as you continue to read!
They certainly had been busy. I was sure I would have to carry the paper around with me for a long time. For a long time? No, the candles are burning. We didn’t have a long time! Did they also come up with a plan? I sure hoped that they had.
As I washed up for dinner, the uncomfortable memory of the basement lingered.