The New Paranormal

by Jackson Tyler

  “Oh, you’re still here.”

  I spun around to face the man from the lobby. Up close, I noticed grey bristles sprouted angrily on his chin. “I was making sure your room was perfect. I’ve turned the heaters on-”

  “This is the nicest room you have? You’re kidding me.”

  We weren’t.

  “What part of I have a lady coming over don’t you and your drunk manager understand?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea why his date required a fancy room. Regardless, the Cressley had no deluxe suites.

  He shook his head. “Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.”

  “I’m sorry, sir-”

  “She’s going to think I’m cheap.”

  “Perhaps you should take your business somewhere more expensive.”

  He glowered at me. “If I see a rat…”

  “No rats.”

  “Any sign of infestation at all-”

  “I can assure you, everything is up to code at the Cressley Hotel.”

  He sneered at the bed. “I doubt that.”

  I hovered again by the door, waiting for a tip — I never knew how to ask for money.

  “Why are you still here? You’re not getting any money out of me for this dive-”

  “Sorry to bother you.” I quickly ducked out of the door and closed it behind me. It made a satisfying click as it formed a barrier between me and that guest

  The elevator stopped at the thirteenth floor on its way down to the lobby. I expected to see Mr. Partridge. The lonely bachelor had the habit of coming downstairs and demanding things from the night staff when he couldn’t sleep. Kyle said it was his way of getting attention. I couldn’t blame him for being restless on that floor.

  But when the door opened, I locked eyes with Isaac. A chill gusted inside the elevator with him as he stepped inside.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” he said.

  “I work here. Are you okay? Are you leaving already?”

  He responded to my concern with a laugh. “I’m going out to grab an energy drink. I’m not running away from any demons.”

  “There are no demons at the Cressley.”

  “Well, isn’t that a relief?”

  “Yes. You’d be in a lot more danger if there were demons.”

  A smile tugged at the edges of Isaac’s lips. He had the cutest smile. It made my knees buckle. Delicate men like him made me swoon, and his long, blonde hair was icing on a delicious cake. Isaac was probably the prettiest man I’d ever seen. If he hadn’t been staying in room 1405...

  But pretty or not, as long as I had to protect him from ghosts, any attraction I felt was irrelevant. I couldn’t let my judgment be clouded.

  We stood together in the elevator in silence as it descended to the ground floor. It was an old elevator, but for goodness sake, couldn’t it go any faster? I was too acutely aware of Isaac’s presence next to me. I needed to compose myself. I felt as though one of us had to say something or the tension between us would snap like a rubber band.

  “Have you had many customers tonight?” asked Isaac lightly.

  “One.”

  “Was he a good tipper?”

  I scoffed.

  “Apparently not.”

  “To be entirely fair, I’m not a good tippee,” I said.

  “It figures you can’t hustle.”

  “What do you mean, it figures?”

  “You’re not exactly-” Isaac waved his hand in the air as though trying to summon the right world. “Well, you’re abrupt.”

  “You mean I’m tactless.” I’d heard that before.

  “You’re honest.”

  “You’re tactful.”

  “That’s why I get good tips.” He paused. “I could teach you my craft sometime.”

  “Your craft?” I made the mistake of looking into his keen eyes.

  He winked. “Charming cash out of chumps.”

  “No, thank you.” I recoiled at the idea. Charming people would mean feigning a significant amount of interest in things I didn’t care about. Why bother?

  “Suit yourself.”

  “You can’t be charming that much money out of people,” I said. “Or you wouldn’t be staying at the Cressley.”

  “Comments like that are why you don’t get tips.”

  The elevator finally reached the lobby, saving me from having to think of a response.

  “See ya, Roman,” said Isaac, practically skipping away. And damn it if his smile didn’t make my stomach flip.

  While he headed outside, I made my way to the front desk, where Kyle was on the phone, patiently nodding and making ‘mhmm’ noises.

  “Is that 3215?” I asked quietly.

  Kyle nodded and rolled his eyes at me. Clearly, he was getting the same earload I got upstairs. “Yes. Yes, we’ll send her up as soon as she’s here, sir. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I can give you a voucher for the bar?”

  He paused.

  “No, the bar isn’t open right now.”

  Pause.

  “Because it’s three in the morning.”

  Why was Isaac running out for an energy drink at three in the morning? Was he working, trying to stay awake so he could do a couple more hours of bullshitting? Or was there another, more ominous reason he didn’t want to fall asleep?

  “Yes. Yes, sir. Yes, we’ll send her up as soon as she gets here.”

  Kyle pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. “He hung up on me.”

  “That sounds better than him continuing to talk to you,” I pointed out.

  “Poor girl,” said Kyle. “Who would date him?”

  “Maybe she likes him,” I suggested. Unlikely. “Maybe she wants his money.”

  “Speaking of liking people-” Kyle crinkled his eyes at me. “Were those sparks I saw flying between you and 1405?”

  “His name is Isaac,” I said instantly. “And no. Any spark you saw was a trick of the light. I definitely don’t like him.” He annoyed me.

  When I first came out at work, I’d wondered if a gruff, bearded old man like Kyle would be accepting, but he’d surprised me by announcing, “Finally, another one!” and offering me a high five.

  “He’s your type,” Kyle pointed out. “You like pretty boys.”

  Well, Isaac was certainly pretty. “We have irreconcilable differences.” For example, I wanted to keep him safe, and he wanted to stay in that godforsaken room. “He makes a mockery of my life’s work for money.”

  Kyle raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “He’s a fake psychic,” I explained.

  “I’m not saying you should fall in love with him.”

  “Good.” I didn’t fall in love with anyone. It could distract from the job.

  “I’m just saying, hatefucking can be fun. And you two have chemistry. Besides, you’re going to be spending a lot of time around him, right?”

  “To protect him from ghosts. Not to seduce him. He’s infuriating. He thinks he knows better than me.”

  “Better than you?” Kyle smirked. “Blasphemy.”

  Before I had to defend myself further, the phone rang at Kyle’s desk again. “Hello?” … “No, sir, she hasn’t arrived yet. We will send her up when she does.”

  I heard muffled booming from the other end of the phone: the unmistakable sound of an entitled middle-aged man with a complaint to make.

  Kyle sighed. “Sir, I don’t know why she isn’t here yet. I’m sorry. Would you like any refreshments sent up to your room while you wait?” Kyle was trying his hardest to handle this man professionally, but he was proving impossible to appease.

  I made a face at Kyle. I didn’t want to take refreshments up to this guy, even if it was my job. Plus, I wanted to stay in the lobby to get a glimpse of Isaac when he came back.

  “Sir, I’m sorry, I can’t help you with your date.”

  Another pause, and more yelling over the line.

  “Have a nice night,” said Kyle. He put down the phone and braced his fore
head in his temples.

  “Was that sarcasm?” I asked.

  “That was professionalism. And here I thought this was going to be a quiet night.”

  “There hasn’t been much supernatural activity,” I offered.

  “I’d take ghost trouble over customers like that any day,” said Kyle.

  I’d take ghosts trouble over any type of customer any day. Being a bellhop was far from my dream job. But the only way I was able to investigate the Cressley Hotel was by working here. And that meant I spent more placating customers than fighting ghosts.

  Chapter Five

  Isaac

  I woke up at three in the morning, which was par for the course at the Cressley. Over the past week, no matter what time I went to sleep, I found myself waking up at 3:03, according to the little digital clock on the nightstand next to my bed.

  And at 3:03, it was always freezing, even with Hannibal curled on my feet like a purring hot water bottle. I pulled my covers up so that I was covered right up to my neck, but no blanket was able to relieve the chill that settled in my bones. This hotel was old and uninsulated. In the early hours of the morning, I could tell why it was so cheap.

  I sighed, looking at the little red numbers glowing on the alarm clock until they were burned into my retinas. Any minute now…

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  There it was. Solid, rhythmic thumping from the room next door. It always started at 3:03. I blamed the plumbing. The Cressley was old and in desperate need of repairs.

  Hannibal leaped off the bed and ran under his chair, hissing. I closed my eyes and lay back in bed. I knew from experience that banging on the wall wouldn’t shut next door up. Neither would yelling, because there was no one in room 1407 to yell at.

  Thump. Thumpthumpthump.

  I turned on a podcast to try and drown out the sound, but if anything, the thumping got louder in protest.

  If I had been a superstitious man, this might have creeped me out. But it would take more than some weird sounds and a warning from a creepy/sexy bellhop to scare Isaac Baker.

  I didn’t know what the thumping was, but I knew one thing it wasn’t. Ghosts weren’t real.

  Thump.

  ***

  Olivia was the only one of my friends from the old days who’d responded to my message about being back in town. My past was riddled with dark times; a lot of the people who’d been my allies back then had moved on to better and brighter lives. Others hadn’t made it at all. But Olivia wanted to catch up with me for drinks, and she was the best of the bunch anyway.

  We were meeting at one of our old haunts, Elephant Bar. It had been done up since I used to come here; the wallpaper was no longer peeling, and I didn’t recognize any of the staff. The people who used to work here must have either moved on to better things or been fired for dealing pills to their customers.

  When Olivia stepped through the door, I instantly recognized the elaborate Alice in Wonderland sleeve tattoo on her arm, although it looked as though it had been transplanted onto a different person. She used to dye her hair and cut it short, but now it was its natural auburn and swept halfway down her back. Most strikingly, she looked happier than I’d ever seen.

  I lifted my hand to wave her over. She flashed a grin and strode toward me.

  We embraced like long-lost siblings. Olivia had always been a good hugger, and that hadn’t changed. It was comforting to be around someone familiar at last.

  “Do you want a drink?” she asked. “I’ll shout.”

  I held up my half-finished beer. “I’m okay for now.”

  “Well, I’m going to get myself a drink.”

  After Olivia got back to our table with a glass of wine, the small talk began. It was an unfortunate but inevitable part of catching up with an old friend.

  “How have things been going?” she asked.

  “That’s a complicated question,” I said with a small chuckle. “Things have been going.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re back in the city. I missed you.”

  “Thanks, Olivia. I missed you too.” And it was true. I felt more comfortable after a minute with Olivia than I had after three years with any of Sasha’s friends. There was history between us, common ground. An old friendship worth rekindling.

  “You look fantastic, by the way,” I said.

  She ducked her head. “Thanks. I feel fantastic. Better than ever.”

  “So what’s new with you? Is anything exciting going on in your life?” She didn’t offer any information about her transition, so I didn’t ask. It didn’t matter; she was Olivia.

  Olivia smiled. “There’s no excitement right now, which is a nice change. I’m focussing on work for now.”

  “What are you doing for work?” I asked.

  “I’m working in a jewelry store now. “She blushed. “It’s nice. They pay a living wage. And I’m hoping to get promoted to manager soon.”

  “You’re kidding! That’s awesome.”

  She nodded and took a sip of her wine. “I know. I’m so happy.”

  “I can tell.”

  “So back to you. You’re not happy.” She said it as a statement, not a question. “You look exhausted.”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

  “Is the breakup getting to you, or is it something else?” The tenderness in her deep brown eyes touched me.

  “It’s not the breakup. We broke up months ago. The eviction was coming for a while.”

  “I couldn’t tell you when you were dating her, but I never liked Sasha.”

  “She didn’t like you much, either. She didn’t want me associating with anyone from that time in my life.”

  “She met you during that time in your life,” said Olivia indignantly.

  I smirked at my almost-empty beer. “Yeah. But she changed, and apparently I didn’t.”

  When I’d lived in Seattle as a teenage runaway, Olivia had been my partner in petty crime.

  I learned to read tarot cards as part of a racket we were pulling. I distracted people with my crystal ball while she picked their pockets. She never liked being in the spotlight, but I reveled in it.

  After a while, I realized that if I could trick people into thinking I was a real psychic, I could trick them into thinking I was a lot of things. I gave up my pickpocketing ways to become a con-artist. Not long after that, Olivia got a job at a department store and went clean.

  “Have you been seeing anyone else?” Olivia pressed.

  “No,” I said quickly. Despite myself, the image of Roman in his too-tight bellhop uniform flashed into my head. “I tried using Tinder, but it’s not my thing.”

  “You haven’t had a rebound yet?” said Olivia, her expression shocked.

  “Nope,” I said. And I was definitely feeling the lack of intimacy. It frayed my nerves and put me on edge.

  “I know a guy at work who would be perfect for you. You still date guys, right?”

  “No, Olivia, my bisexuality didn’t vanish when I was dating a woman.”

  “Then Thomas will be great. He’s bi too, and he’s cute and funny, he’s a good listener, he could make watching paint dry a fun time-”

  I stopped her mid-spiel. “I don’t want to steal him from you.”

  “What? Me?” said Olivia. She colored. “No, I don’t like Thomas like that. I’m talking him up for you. I can arrange you guys a date, if you want?”

  “I don’t know.” I chewed on my lip. “Blind dates don’t always go well for me.”

  “I promise you and Thomas will like each other.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said with a smile.

  “Good,” said Olivia. “Anyway, what are you doing these days?”

  “Same old, same old. I’m a psychic.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Mostly online these days, though.” My days of setting up shop in the streets were over.

  “Are you still Peter the Peculiar?”

&nb
sp; “I gave up on Peter,” I said. “I was Matthew the Mysterious for a while, but then Sasha cheated on me with a guy named Matthew, so-”

  “Wait, she cheated on you?”

  “Why’s that shocking?” I laughed bitterly. “Everyone cheats on me.”

  “Isn’t she like the third person to cheat on you?”

  “Fourth.” I winced.

  Olivia bit her lip. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s kind of funny if you think about it.”

  “Uh, you were telling me your psychic name?” she said, changing the subject.

  “My current one?” I swept my hair out of my face and grinned. “Genesis.”

  Olivia laughed. “Do all the hippies love you?”

  “Everyone loves me.”

  Olivia laughed. I had missed her laugh — I’d missed laughing in general. Maybe I could never hold down a romantic relationship, but I could rebuild good friendships now that I was back home.

  “Where are you living?” she asked. “Have you been able to find a place? Do you still have that cat I’ve seen so many pictures of?

  I grinned, happy she remembered Hannibal.

  “Yeah. I’m staying at the Cressley Hotel until I’m back on my feet. I’m not technically allowed cats, but you know how I feel about rules.”

  “The Cressley?” Alarm flashed briefly over Olivia’s face. “Isn’t that place supposed to be super haunted?”

  I laughed. “I know better than anyone that ghosts aren’t real.”

  “I don’t know.” She pursed her lips. “I’ve heard some stuff about that place...”

  “I’ve heard it too,” I said. “And it’s all bullshit. There’s this bellhop who works there, and he gave me this big warning about how dangerous my room is-”

  “Your room?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why is your room dangerous in particular?”

  “It’s on the murder floor, apparently.”

  Olivia’s jaw fell. “You can’t stay on the murder floor.”

  “Not you too.” I shook my head, smirking. Every time Roman and I made eye contact in the hotel lobby, he sent me a warning glare. “I’m fine, Olivia. I’ve been living at the Cressley for a week, and no vengeful spirit has killed me yet.” Even though the sounds at night were getting louder. Even though I’d been having nightmares about blood and knives and running away from something I couldn’t see.