Introducing Hotel Candelabra: A Novelette
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Day One: Chapter One
It was not a choice I would have ever made except for the ferocity of the storm. Pelted by rain and blinded by lightning, the rolling thunder seemed the least of my concerns. I had become accustomed to hearing the rumbles in the distance, but this time the storm consumed me.
Glancing up, I spotted the glowing sign. Hotel Candelabra. It seemed an odd name for a hotel, but through the door, the lobby looked inviting—and dry. Gathering my baggage, I entered what I hoped with be a refuge from the storm. In my haste, I missed hearing the melody of a long-forgotten song. Bursting through the door, I heaved a sigh of relief only to see the door shut behind me—and vanish.
“Welcome to Hotel Candelabra!” a cheery voice said.
Behind the check-in counter, one of the most elderly of all elderly men smiled at my dismay and said, “You are going to love it here.”
There was something rather final in his words. Apparently, I had come to stay. I faintly heard the strains of a song echo through the lobby again and asked, “So, I can’t ever check out, can I?” It was a rhetorical question.
A cheery smile added additional wrinkles to the aged face behind the counter but did not diminish my discomfort. I had been accustomed to landing places that I didn’t necessarily want to be for most of my life but never had anyone made it feel so unlikely that I could ever leave.
Not knowing what else to say, I asked the obvious. “Do you have a room?”
“Yes, we do,” the smile said and beckoned me to follow. I looked around for the other part of his “we” but seeing no one else, I complied.
Standing in front of an elevator that looked like Willy Wonka might appear when it opened, I glanced around the lobby. In the center was a massive table with an equally massive candelabra taking up space in the center of it. I wondered if the candelabra had existed since the beginning of time and the hotel had been built around it. It was certain that the candelabra was never going to be able to leave either. There seemed to be hundreds of places for candles, but there was only one. Though the room was dark, I could see that the walls of the lobby were interspersed with mirrors and pictures of candelabras of all shapes and sizes.
“Oh wait,” the smile said, “I forgot your candle.” With that, he walked over, climbed up a stepladder to remove the last candle from the top of the massive candelabra, and handed it to me. “You will need this.”
The elevator door opened, Willy Wonka did not step out, and we were on our way.
Photo by The Dark Queen on Unsplash