Welcome to the Neighbourhood
Page 1
Welcome to the Neighbourhood
A short story by Eduard Joseph
Published by Eduard Joseph
Copyright 2010 Eduard Joseph
Front cover design by Eduard Joseph
Twitter: @TheEduardJoseph
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are
not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. Any resemblance to any person or
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved
The right of Eduard Joseph to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him under the South African Copyright Act of 1978 (as amended).
It was only per chance that Wilma stumbled upon a small advert for the Hotel while browsing the web. From the advert on the internet the little town called Iniquity Falls seemed flawless. It seemed like a peaceful little town that time had forgotten – nestled in a valley at the foot of surrounding mountains. The Hotel was situated on the outskirts of the town which was home to only about 200 people. It was exactly what Wilma needed to get away from her hectic life. She could not even remember when last she had a vacation.
As she scrolled through the little popup advert on her computer, a work colleague glanced over her shoulder with eager eyes – eager for gossiping about what he saw her doing.
“What are you looking at?” Peter asked.
The sound of Peter’s voice made Wilma almost jump right out of her cubicle.
“You scared me.” Wilma said.
“Are you planning your vacation on company time?” Peter whispered.
“Yes.” Wilma hushed him. “I was thinking about going away for the weekend.”
“With who?” Peter asked.
Wilma tried not to sound too pathetic and said, “I have a life outside of work you know.”
“Okay, fine.” Peter said, “Enjoy your weekend away at Infinity Falls.”
”Iniquity Falls.” Wilma corrected him.
“Whatever, loser.” Peter mumbled as he walked away.
Wilma was in her late twenties and just another face in a cubicle at a large company. Though she tried to keep her private life private, it was quite obvious she was unhappily single. Her drab clothes and make-up deprived face was the proof the world needed. The only thing that kept her from taking pity on herself and committing suicide was a plant she inherited from her uncle twice removed. The plant itself was depressed and hanging on for dear life.
The only thing she had going on in her life was work, and that itself was as boring as hell. Her daily routine consisted of getting up, getting dressed, going to work, going home from work and eating defrosted leftovers in front of the TV. She needed a change of scenery in her life or she’d go insane – insane enough to bring an axe to work and hack everyone to death who made her life hell, especially her boss.
She glanced at the pop up advert on her computer. Iniquity Falls Hotel seemed perfect for a little weekend getaway.
She reached for the mouse and moved the cursor over to the Book in button at the bottom of the advert. Screw company time. What has the company ever done for her except give her unwanted stress?
She owed herself a little getaway.
Wilma drove her old car along the winding byway. It was one of those old beat up cars that looked like it belonged to a highway rapist stalking women in the 1970s. She followed the directions the Hotel emailed her after she made the booking. Her backseat was stacked with bags though she was only going away for the weekend. On the passenger seat next to her lay the printed out email and a map book. She glanced down at the open map book to calculate her position. She did not have the money for a GPS system and had to navigate like people from the Stone Age.
She grabbed the email and held it up against the steering wheel and glanced at it. The directions did not correspond with her map. According to the email she should carry on for another ten miles after marker 15 and then take the first left which would lead her to Iniquity Falls. Her map said there was no turn off anywhere for the next sixty miles and she had passed marker 15 about two miles back.
“But there’s nothing out here.” Wilma said to herself, “How do these people expect to attract tourists it they make it so hard to find the damned place?”
Yep, she was one of those prolonged single people who finally started talking to and answering themselves. She was a sad sight. Thank goodness nobody was there to see her talking to herself. They would lock her in an asylum and throw away the key.
“Maybe that’s the gimmick of the town.” Wilma said, “A town so untouched by the outside world, if you don’t know it’s there you won’t know it’s there.”
She threw the email back onto the passenger seat and continued down the byway. About 8 miles later she finally saw a dusty old turn off to her left. There was no signage to state where the road led to, but she decided to follow her gut. She nearly passed it, backed up and turned into the dusty road.
The gravel road was bumpy and all the shaking nearly rearranged Wilma’s intestines. There seemed to be nothing surrounding her for miles on end.
“Geez,” Wilma said, “I hope this is the right turn off.”
The old rapist car continued down the dirt road, rearranging Wilma from the inside as she drove. If she had a full bladder it would have been emptied by the bumpy road by now.
Finally she saw an old building up ahead. The building seemed old but maintained to a degree that could put city hotels to shame. It was the hotel she was looking for.
“Oh my.” Wilma gasped upon seeing the magnificent little Hotel.
She drove up to the hotel and parked her car. She stepped out of her car and stared mesmerized at the hotel. To the left of the hotel was a giant old weeping willow tree with a swing hanging from one of its branches. The front porch of the Hotel was gigantic and lined with four oversized rocking chairs. The windows of the hotel were bulky and inviting visitors with prospects of the perfect stay.
Wilma made her way up the colossal steps leading to the porch. She cautiously approached the open front door and as she peeked inside an overweight, middle-aged, bald man popped out making her jump. He had tiny lizard eyes and thin lips.
His eyes widened and a smile stretched across his face. His name was Alfred; the owner of the hotel.
“Ah, miss Jackson!” He greeted loudly, “I’ve been expecting you! I’m so glad you had a safe journey. Welcome to Iniquity Falls.”
“Thank you.” Wilma said, “What a lovely hotel.”
“Thank you.” Alfred said, “She is a beaut. She has been in my family for over a hundred years. My name is Alfred Wilbershitter – I know it’s a horrible last name.”
”Wow.” Wilma said, “Really? That’s amazing. Not your name – I mean that the hotel has been in your family for so long.”
Alfred chuckled and motioned for her to enter the hotel.
“Well, come inside.” Alfred said, “We can’t stand out here all day. We need to book you in and show you to your room.”
“Let me just get my bags.” Wilma said.
“Leave your bags.” Alfred said, “Thomas will get them.”
Alfred entered through the front door and Wilma followed him into the reception area. The interior had an antique feel to it, but in a good way – a soothing way. Wilma could relax here. There were no stressful signs of city life anywhere, except on her face.
Alfred led her up the stairs and chatted the whole way, pausing in between sentences to catch his breath.
“We have ten rooms,” Alfred said, “Each one kept the same as they were a hundred years ago when my great grandfather opened the hotel. You will find no TV, radio or ce
llphone reception here. It’s the perfect tranquil retreat for any city slicker.”
“Sounds divine.” Wilma said.
Alfred was panting as they went up the flight of stairs, but Wilma was concentrating more on the surrounding décor than the fact that the fat man was on the brink of collapse.
“We are only about a hundred yards away from town,” Alfred said, “A brisk walk if you care to go wander around. It’s a small town with only about 200 residents, a school, post office, general store and a museum. Nothing fancy, but that’s what we offer - chance to get away from everything you know.”
“I’ll definitely be checking it out later.” Wilma said. “I love exploring.”
When they reached the top of the stairs, Alfred opened the first door on his left and stepped aside for Wilma to enter her room.
“Here we are.” Alfred said, “This is your room. If you need anything, just let me or Thomas know.”
“Will do. Thank you.” Wilma said and entered her room.
Alfred did not linger for much longer and left Wilma to explore her room. A queen sized bed stood in the middle of the room with hits bed posts reaching up towards the ceiling. Mosquito nets were draped across the balustrade that connected the top of the posts. The room had an en-suite bathroom and a small balcony that overlooked the country side. She explored her room and its fine decor when there was a knock at the door.
Wilma turned around and saw a skinny young lad standing at the open door. He had her bags in his arms and they nearly overpowered him. She rushed to his aid and took some of the bags.
“Here let me help you.” Wilma said.
“Thank you.” Thomas said.
“No, thank you.” Wilma said.
“Well if there is anything else, just holler.” Thomas said.
Thomas turned to leave.
“Actually,” Wilma said, “I could use a guide for when I go exploring?”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” Thomas said with a smile, “When would you like to go?”
“What about now?” Wilma asked with a smile.
Thomas nodded with a faint smile. He had much to do around the hotel.
“Sure.” He said.