Week 5
Mom at the Hotel Mystique
After letting Auntie Ming and Dash off at the fortune teller’s building, Mom drove out towards Breezy Point.
Breezy Point is a lazy curl of land, where barefooted Pointers, the name locals liked to refer to themselves as they paraded on bicycles along the ocean promenade with their T shirts flapping sometimes with a dog trailing on a leash. With its intoxicating sea breezes and wind swept beach trees, Breezy Point is known as the “Irish Riviera“. It certainly felt that way to the people on one side of this private gated community.
“I’m going to the Hotel Mystique.”
The man at the guard house slid the window open and squinted curiously at Mom. “Yeah? Says who?”
“I have business with the manager. And I’m late.” Mom drummed her fingers impatiently on the dashboard waiting for the man to raise the gate. She roared down the dune road leaving the man in the guard house shaking his head grimly. That damn hotel has brought nothing but trouble and pesky new people out here.
Cornelius O’Connor, the manager of the Hotel Mystique stepped out onto the balcony, leaning over to flick an ash from his slim cigarette. According to his watch, the last morning ferry had just left the Coast Guard pier and would be passing the painted spires of the Coney Island amusement park soon. He could see the tip of the boat pointing outward and then sidling along the Breezy Point side where rows of houses slept like cats huddled in the sand. Summer people sat on the shady side of their their porches, the newspapers in their laps; some would wave their second cup of coffee as the ferry sailed by.
A sudden thought occurred to O’Connor and he quickly stubbed out the end of his cigarette with the tip of his shoe. He gave his cufflinks a quick tug and straightened his tie. The afternoon shift was just clocking in: they leaned against the wall as he swept by with a curt nod.
The door to his inner office was open. O’Connor was annoyed. He sniffed and stepped briskly around to the large desk at the back and seating himself in the large leather chair facing the bay windows that overlooked the hotel terrace to the ocean beyond. He scanned the papers on his desk and frowned at a message complaining about letting guests in the first security gate. Now that is clearly something this hotel will have to do something about; he would bring it up with the local authorities. Oh, and he would also reprimand housekeeping about locking up after cleaning the offices.
A rustling sound, and then a shadow caught his attention.
“I have a month of bookings to nail down before my next meeting.” Without bothering to look up, O’Connor snapped open his file drawer and took out a sheaf of files. “You’ll have to come back if you want something.”
He looked up, but there was no one there.
“You have something I need.” The voice was low and soft.
O’Connor placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward impatiently.
“Now just who the hell do you think – “ he said, looking around the office.
“A small thing. I am sure you can help me.” A figure emerged from the shadow, it was a woman..
O’Connor relaxed his grip. The woman before him was slim with long dark hair that fell around her shoulders framing her delicate pale face. He noticed she wore a fitted silk dress, a light jacket around her slender shoulders and her shoes were stylish pointed slippers. His curiousity was piqued.
“You are interested in having an party, a celebration, I presume?”
There was something mysterious, something curious about her.
“Something -” she stopped, and then in a whisper she said, ” – for someone special.”
He smiled with a sly flicker in his eyes. ”I am sure I can do something for you.” he purred smoothly.
She was near the desk, gazing at him but her eyes were expressionless.
“I can offer you our special late summer rates for our best banquet spaces.” Cornelius growled softly. “Gratuities included.”
The woman reached over to touch his sleeve. “Can you keep a secret?”
He flashed a suggestive grin moving closer to her, then gasped as he felt her grip suddenly tightening through the fabric of his sleeve.
“What – what are you doing?” he sputtered, shocked by her icy hold on him.
She looked at him and let go of his arm without a word. He yanked his hand back, stumbling against the edge of his desk. His fingers clawed frantically for the phone. The woman was hovering on top of him, her voice hollow and toneless.
“Can you keep a secret?”
But the woman, it seems, was not interested in his answer. O’Connor gasped as he felt something rip from his chest, pulling him down into a wave of rushing darkness; his last breath overcome by the scent of the ocean.
The woman stepped lightly over the sprawled figure of Cornelius O’Connor, pausing slightly to look at the small object in her hand before slipping out the door. She fitted a key in the lock and closed the door tightly behind her, just the way he liked.
*******
She moved silently through the heavily carpeted hotel halls, stopping before a large mirror. Carefully she pulled back her hair and pinned a gold badge to her jacket lapel.
The afternoon shift was moving throughout the banquet halls carrying linens and lists of table arrangements. She turned down the main corridor, passing the wait staff streaming towards the kitchens. There was no time to lose.
She would arrive at the appointed hour, complete her task and the events of the day would make no difference to the people in Breezy Point; they would wash away like the tide at the end of the day.
Like all the others.
She hurried from the darkened hallway into the light, shielding her eyes from the sudden sunlight. She opened the door, which she knew would be unlocked, entering quietly so she could easily hear the woman speaking on her cellphone.
After a few moments the woman would turn around and see her. And it would be too late.
*******
“This is not what I expected.” said Mom. It was a stated as an unquestionable fact.
She waited expectantly, her black hair swept off her face and clipped stylishly to the side. Her fingers tapped the slim portfolio that lay open on the desk. The clock on the wall behind her showed twenty past the hour. The woman entered the room, coughed politely and closed the door behind her. Mrs. Loong Rubinstein was not what she expected either.
“Mr. O’Connor – “ the woman began.
“Mr. O’Connor is late.” Mom’s words snapped.
The woman paused and took a step forward. “Something has come up. But I am his assistant and I will be most happy to help you.” She patted the gold badge that read Manager in a fancy script pinned on to her jacket lapel.
Mom blinked in mild surprise. “I wanted to go over our letter of agreement.” She turned and walked over to the desk. “And I have an important request to make.”
The smile curled into a cruel twist on the woman’s face. Now, she thought. Swiftly so she does not have time to fight.
“My guests will not be happy being barked at by that guard of yours at the security gate.” said Mom. She turned suddenly, raising her voice slightly. “Please take care of this. It sets a bad tone. This is, after all, a happy event for my son.”
The woman froze midair and murmured, “Of course.”
“Good. Now let’s review the main points of the evening – We will need the room decorated for the birthday dinner at seven. The guests will then proceed to the terrace to burn hell money and houses for the Hungry Ghost Festival. Afterwards everyone will gather for mahjongg and cards in the lounge.” Mom paced from one end of the room to the other. She stopped at the desk and flipped quickly through her notes.
A perfect moment. The woman moved swiftly leaning in to attack.
“My family,” Mom spun around and looked around the room. ” – the Loong family, has not been together,” she explained. “in a very long time.” She brightened and her eyes were smiling. “But they will be here to celebrate my youngest son’s thirteenth birthday – and the Hungry Ghost Festival, just for fun.”
She moves like a man. Like a general. The woman wondered and said slowly, “A boy should have fun on his birthday.”
“I think so!” Mom beamed with delight. “He will be quite a young man. We are very proud of him.”
Are you? The woman smiled thoughtfully and said, ”Everything will be taken care of.”
“Mr. O’Connor has assured me of that,” Mom arched her eyebrows. “I am counting on it.”
“Mrs. Loong Rubinstein, I assure you,” the woman said, “Mr. O’Connor will make everything right.” She uncurled her fists and let her hands fall lightly.
“If it is the last thing he does.” she said.
*******
“It’s the boss!”
The woman headed towards the front door and heard the shocked gasp from the receptionist.
“Mr. O’Connor!” she cried dramatically to the suddenly silent front desk managers. “Lying there with his eyes wide open. They say he was drowned. Just like the others!”
The woman turned slightly and smiled. Yes, the others.
“No way! I thought that was all made up!” said the bellboy, his eyes wide open in shock.
“What are the owners going to do about it? Do you think they’ll shut us down?” asked one of the managers nervously.
“God, it could have been one of us!”
The small group exchanged anxious looks.
They did not notice the dark haired woman walking by them. She unclipped the badge from her jacket and carelessly tossed it over the edge of the balcony overlooking the ocean.
*******
Hi Boo Crew
Here you have a few more characters including the mysterious ghost. Any thoughts?
18 Comments
The mysterious ghost is the most vivd and rather scary charcter. I believe that the mysterious ghost is in fact the ghost mistress.
Good guess!
I enjoyed when you included the encounter with O’ Conner and the ghost, then after wards, made one of the minor characters sate right after he was dead. because it makes you more suspicous of who murdered him. My favorite part was when Dash’s mother described the celebration to the ghost herself.
Thanks for your thoughts Monika.
I like the irony of that part too. It gives the reader insight to the story that the unsuspecting character doesn’ t have.
Does the badge from her jacket have a significant meaning?
The badge belonged to Cornelius and the woman needed it to pass herself off as the hotel manager’s assistant to Mom.
“She moves like a general” is a an excellent example of figurative language. The closing lines are very dramatic; it’s as if she is tossing aside a piece of her life. Again, I really admire your use of voice and dialogue. I can practically hear the characters speaking.
figurative language is another way to suggest things about a character and the story. readers carry a mental image from a descriptive phrase that illustrates how the character moves and thinks.
Was the assistant aware of what she was doin or was she possessed by a ghost (maybe the ghost misstress or one of her “helpers”)?
Great question!
These are the kinds of things you want your readers to be wondering about so they want to continue reading.
The plot of this part is not as gripping as it has been in previous sections. The dialogue is a bit unrealistic and actions are unbelievable and not easily visualized. The ghost does not seem frightening or otherworldly. The characters are underdeveloped , shallow, and difficult to connect with as well. The setting isn’t tangible and the descriptions of it relies more on olfactory and auditory imagery than visual imagery and it is therefore difficult to place the events occurring in the scene.
Thanks for your feedback.
Sometimes it is important to develop mental pictures through other senses. This can be challenging especially if you are a visually oriented reader/writer.
This was very good, i like how you made a cliffhanger and also used the classic cartoon tactic of the villain goes in to attack and the protagonist turns around really fast and the villain also stops trying to attack.
Thanks for you comment!
Sometimes the unexpected mix of comedy and cliffhanger can startle the reader in becoming more intrigued.
Justin, I liked that scene as well. The entire time I was thinking to myself-will the ghost kill mom? I was on the edge of my seat. Can’t wait to see what will happen next week.
Six word challange
Mom meets murderous miscreant at Mystique
Drowned and outed by ghastly ghost
“The woman stepped lightly over the sprawled figure of Cornelius O’Connor, pausing slightly to look at the small object in her hand before slipping out the door. She fitted a key in the lock and closed the door tightly behind her, just the way he liked.”
I loved the end of this section of the story. As I read i started to think about the character of this ghost. She wants something and will do what ever is necessary to get it. Her movements are very strategic and intentional.
Ghosts are just like people, only dead.