The Californian

Every so often I found myself at the reception desk of the Californian, waiting to check-in and walked to my room before I enjoy the many amenities this place has to offer.

The Hotel Californian is known as a luxurious spa and resort, located somewhere in the middle of the woods, spanning a couple of acres filled with fun and relaxation. Behind the main building, reminiscent of the Georgian architecture styles, guests would be welcomed by the fitness centre, the Roman bathhouse that had an opening to the swimming pools, the main garden filled with colourful flowers, various fruits and vegetables, and the activity complex where you could even take cooking classes as a leisure activity.

The first time I visited the hotel it was with Michael, a good friend from way back in high school, right before we had to go to a wedding. I don’t recall if the wedding was going to take place at the hotel or nearby, who was getting married or how I got invited, but I do remember enjoying the hell out of the heated swimming pools, floating around without a care in the world and having the same devil-may-care attitude I had before I started working. I think we did hit the gym a little bit between swims to stay in shape for the ceremony and make sure the delicious food offered by the Californian had enough room.

The second time I was joined by my university flatmate Dennis  during some time off from work. We had adjacent rooms. The bathroom had a hot tub facing a large flat screen tv. After changing our clothes, we went to the fitness centre first for some exercise before we cooled off poolside with a couple of cocktails and some good cigars. I think that was the first I noticed the showers located next to the locker rooms on every floor.  The shower knobs had this vintage brass look and feel to them. It made me feel a bit uneasy and fascinated, but I shook it off.

The third time I went I was visiting alone. The hotel staff recognized me as a loyal visitor and provided me with a personal butler.  This was a pleasant surprise. I don’t think I cached their name, but I do remember their helpful nature and the suggestion of trying a class at the activity complex. It would have been a nice change of pace from the stress at work. When we exited to the back everything was more pale than usual. The grass wasn’t as green as before, the fountains weren’t running and some of the pools were empty. When we arrived at the activity complex, the building was starting to get decrepit, the paint was cracking, broken windows and even a couple of them were covered by wooden planks. The butler informed that they haven’t had too many visitors lately and that the only class still available at the moment was the cooking one. The hall was reminiscent of an eastern European classroom with a couple of people choosing vegetables from the available boxes. For some reason everyone was in a hurry to choose and then retreated to the most lit up side before something made its appearance. They acted like this was normal, but as soon as the moment arrived  I felt a pressure from the shadows. It didn’t feel right. With the corner of my eye I spotted some bills addressed to the hotel.

The trip ended as usually, with me waking up back in my bed and trying to process what had happened. The third time was when I found out the name of the place and prided myself with having a dream trilogy. A part of me feels like it wasn’t a dream, that everything that happened did happen and that the place was real in its own way and in its own reality. Not sure why everything was related to water in the Californian, with the exception of the “dry” visit, but I do feel at peace when surrounded by it. But based on the pattern, how would my next visit be?

The receptionist arrived at the desk.

— Sir...you... you have returned. You’re earlier than expected. May I invite you to wait a bit in the lounge while I talk to a manager and confirm the necessary details?

— Sure.

— Thank you, sir. You may have a complementary drink while you wait.

As I walked to the lounge, I had the uneasy feeling I was being watched and that it would be a good idea to sit somewhere well lit. The lounge was hosting a few guests and the best place I could find to sit was at a coffee table with two apposing leather chairs. While I waited for the receptionist and for someone to take my order,  a stranger approached me.

— Pardon me sir, is this seat here taken?

— No, it’s free.

— Would it be alright if I join you?

— Be my guest.

— Much obliged! 

The stranger looked somewhat into his 60s or 70s, wearing an eggplant coloured pinstripe suit with a matching fedora, gold watch and an encrusted pinkie ring. The reflection of the light made his two gold teeth stand out even more every time he smiled.

After a few moments of silence the waiter made an appearance.

— What may I get you, gentlemen?

— Can I have a glass of water?

— Unfortunately the bar’s drinkable water system has a couple of issues. May I suggest a cold refreshing strawberry and banana combo juice?

— Sure, why not.

— And what about you, sir?

— If it wouldn’t be much of a bother, may I have a passion fruit, watermelon and lime smoothie with a blue umbrella?

— Absolutely no problem.

— Thank you kindly.

As the waiter left for the bar, I still couldn’t believe that I saw with my very own eyes the distinguished senior gentleman sitting across from me ordering a very fruity combination, before lighting up a cigar.

— Something the matter, young man? If the smoke’s bothering you I can put it out.

— No, not at all. I’m a smoker myself. It’s just that you seem the kind of person that would prefer a stronger drink, something that would be old enough to drink.

— I understand your assumption and you would be correct, sir. But, with age I have learned that there is a time and place for enjoying the product of fermented fruit, and a time and place for enjoying the fruit fresh.  Most establishments tend to pair the fresh fruit with those tiny umbrellas and I am fond of them.

— Makes sense now.

— Glad we could clear that up. Hope I am not being too intrusive, but how are you enjoying your stay?

— I’m still waiting to check-in.

— I understand. Hopefully you will enjoy your stay. It’s a shame that you didn’t have the pleasure of seeing this place in all of its glory. The lounge used to be roaming with life. Live music on the piano was the standard and you could hear it all the way to the roman bathhouse. The entire water attraction almost earned it the nickname “Atlantis”. 

— I remember how it was before the last time. The heated pools were my favorite.

— That is quite peculiar. Don’t mind me asking, but how many times have you been a guest here?

— If I remember correctly, this should be my fourth time.

Suddenly the stranger’s demeanour took a sharp turn following a soft sigh.

— Dear sir, I am deeply sorry to hear that. You seem like a nice fellow and all that, but unfortunately fate has put you in this situation. Strangely enough, your presence here explains the missing water.

— What are you talking about?

— Young man, even if I could explain it to you in a way you could understand, strong chance you would not believe me. All I can make clear is this: the water.

— Yes?

— The water has to flow. When the water is flowing everything is imbued with life, prosperity, the good stuff. No matter what happens, the water has to flow! Because if it doesn’t, well...

— The water isn’t flowing right now.

— Exactly! Have you noticed anything about the other guests?

— No?

— Since we both got here, there hasn’t been any movement on their part. Absolutely no sound, no squeak or even a sneeze.

— Maybe they’re waiting for the waiter to take their orders.

— The waiter didn’t even attempted to get close to them. You can look around for yourself. Heck, it doesn’t look like they would even notice. The man in the corner with the blue shirt has been holding his newspaper on the same page.

— Maybe he found a fascinating article and needs time to get it.

— Could be, but how do you explain the booth right behind you? There’s a family with two small children on vacation sitting right there. Do you see them?

— It’s pretty dark, but I can make them out. What’s the big deal? They’re just sitting there minding their own business.

— Have you ever in your life seen children so well behaved and silent, especially that young?

— No. That is strange.

— This is what happens when the water isn’t flowing. The water has to flow!

— What does water have to do with all of this?

— As I told you before, you wouldn’t believe me. All you need to know is that everything around these parts is connected. And not to cause a panic, young man, but the shadow in the group is moving towards you. It is fairly slow in its tracks, but it’s surely approaching.

— That’s just the sun moving towards sunset.

— The only light source in the lounge is located above us, mounted to the ceiling.

I looked again around the room. There were absolutely no windows in sight or wall mounted light sources. The only light was coming from the crystal chandelier hanging right above our table. No matter how many times I checked, the answer was the same for the shadow and light. The stranger put out his cigar halfway through.

— I do apologize, but I will have to excuse myself. I am currently needed elsewhere. I’m grateful I had the honor of meeting your acquaintance, even if under unfortunate circumstances.

— But what do I do?

— Sadly, we’re way past the point of no return. It doesn’t matter if you check-in or not. The Californian already made its decision. I will give you one of my cigars and tell the bar on my way out to add a bottle of something strong to our order. Do enjoy the little umbrella for me 

And the stranger departed as quickly as he appeared, leaving me confused and with an intense chill going down my spine.  I turned around and the other guests were eerie facing my table all of a sudden. The shadow had shrouded their facial features, while leaving only the their soulless eyes visable similar to two white dots floating in the dark. I left my chair and headed to the reception desk before the likelihood of the shadow swallowing me whole. Passing the bar, the waiter tried to intercept me with a platter holding the stranger’s order, a tall glass distinctly marked by the blue umbrella, and a vodka bottle. I grabbed both items and twirled passed the waiter to avoid any delay.  The receptionist was there.

— Just in time, sir. I have great news! We are able to accommodate you.

— Great. Can I go outside and sit by the pool side?

— One moment please.

I turned my head to look back. The table and apposing leather chairs had vanished in darkness.

— I’m sorry. The pools are currently drained for the scheduled clean-up and closed to the public 

— I see. What about the health centre?

— One moment please.

Turned my head again. The bar was shrouded and the waiter lingered with the platter in hand and facing me with an expressionless look.

— Apologies, there is some renovation work and access is not permitted for safety reasons.

— The activity complex?

— One moment please.

The darkness had reached the lounge entrance and still advancing.

— The complex is currently.

— Let me guess, closed?

— For fumigation, sir.

— Figures. What about my room? Can I go to my room?

— Of course! Here is your key card. It will be room 305, third floor. The elevators are on your right, at the end of the hall.

— Thanks!

The goosebumps I had made it clear I should adopt a much faster step, but my gut told me that running might be the secret to my demise. I got in the first elevators, quickly closed the door and sat down to catch my breath.

— Hello, mister.

Startled by the squeaky voice, I jumped into the corner. In my rush I missed the small child inside the elevator. I had to play it cool.

— Hi! Are you alone?

The kid started to get teary eyes almost instantly.

— I lost my mommy. She, she said we, we will get ice cream and then, and then the doors closed and I, I, I lost.

— Hey, hey. No need to cry. I will help you find her. She might be waiting for you at your room with the ice cream.

— Re, really, mister?

— I’m sure of it!

I did my best to put on a brave smile for the kid. There’s something about him that seems familiar and I feel obligated to help the poor guy. And it might actually be a good idea to hide from the shadows in a different  location than the one provided by this wretched place. It might buy me some time to make sense of what is happening.

— Do you remember what number was your room?

— No. I haven’t learned my numbers yet and mommy didn’t say.

— No problem then. Do you remember what button your mommy pushed in the elevator when you went to your room?

— I, I think so.

— Perfect! I will run my finger over the buttons and you’ll tell me to stop when you see it. Okay?

— Okay!

I began to move my finger starting from the twentieth floor button, hopping there would be some space between me and the threatening darkness.

— Stop!

My finger instinctively pushed the button making the elevator move upward. It was for the seventh floor. It wasn’t much of a distance, but it was better than alternative. As the door opened, the corridor presented itself dimly lit compared to the lounge, and with a quick peak I was sure that every light was still on.

— Now, kid, did mommy go to the left or to the right?

— Right.

I went out first with a cautious step, making sure the kid was right beside me at all times.

— We’re going to play the same game, okay? When you recognize the door, you tell me to stop.

— Okay.

As we walked through the hallway, I noticed that the child was wearing a purple friendship bracelet. It reminded me of the one I used to wear when I was about his age. It made me feel safe and brave, because I always knew I had someone I could count on no matter what happened. Sometimes I wish I could be a kid again. Being young, without responsibilities and without a care in the world. Not knowing any sort of fear or the horrors the world can create. As I check the boy from time to time, he reminds me a little of me. The same haircut, the same way of making a fist to make myself feel brave and  a Band-Aid on my elbow because I always used to trip and fall so often. I felt a sudden stop and I turned around. The kid was standing still.

— Took you long enough.

— What do you mean, kid?

With a swift step forward the boy pushed me with both hands, throwing me across the corridor. The fruit cocktail had spilled all over me, the glass shattered, and the vodka bottle dropped out my hand as I hit the floor. I tried to get up, but the blow I received made it hard to breathe. As I lifted my head, I could see the child approaching me and behind him the lights were being swallowed by the dark. The smirk on his face gave me a glimpse at its teeth turning into fangs.

— I was expected to believe you were a bright one.

His voice turned to a much lower register.

— How disappointing.

— Sorry to let you down, kid.

— You still register me based on this shell? I must admit, it is one of my best work. Do you like it?

As I took another look, it looked just like me. The young me. I finally figured it out why it felt so familiar.

— I can see it in your eyes, the realization. 

— But why?

— You wish to know the motive, dream walker?

— Dream what?

— I really overestimated your intelligence. No matter, it will soon be over for you and your accursed bloodline.

— If you’re going to kill me, can I at least drink from my vodka bottle?

— The smell of desperation emanates from your very core. It would be beneath me to not grant the final wish of an inferior being.

Slowly I was able to sit and lean on a wall. I grabbed the bottle and the little blue umbrella. I put the umbrella behind my ear to take my mind from my impending fate. As I twisted the cap off, the kid took a step back with an uneasy look on its face.

— What trickery is this?

Puzzled, I took a sniff of the bottle. It didn’t smell like vodka or any sort of alcohol. I took a gulp of the liquid. It was water. All this damn time I was carrying water with me.

— I will not delay this any longer.

The kid rushed at me and when he got close enough I spat the water right in its face. He fell back and was shrieking in pain, fumes emanating from its face. With what strength I could muster, I jumped over and poured more water over its face. The stranger’s words popped into my head about how water should flow. Before I could pour some more, it pushed me again across and freed itself screaming.

— You may have won this time, dream walker, but this is my domain! Do not forget that I am the one in control and your torment will be by my hands.

With half of its face completely disfigured, it broke through a door to make a stake and launched it at me with hatred in its eyes. I tried to block the incoming projectile with the glass bottle, but the stake shattered it, spilling the remaining water all over me, before impaling me. My blood was gushing out and mixing with the spilled water. The darkness was growing around me. I immediately woke up back in my bed, with sharp pain in my abdomen and breathless. I checked the exact place where I was stabbed, but there was no entrance wound and as I was able to catch my breath, the pain had started to fade away. The next couple of days I tried to avoid sleeping, but no matter how hard I tried I drowse off. But I didn’t dream. My slumber became a dreamless void, a quick jump from night to day. It gave me reassurance that I could get a good night’s rest without having to worry about anything. After a couple of years I began training myself to dream again. The lack of dreams took a toll on my metal health and I couldn’t go on like that. Meditation worked the best for me.

In my olden days, after years of hard work, I once again found myself on the premises of the Californian, wearing an eggplant coloured pinstripe suit with a matching fedora, gold watch and an encrusted pinkie ring.