They drew near the front doors of the hotel. Maya wondered where Roy and Grandma were. She saw the red sports car parked outside with the lights off. Apparently, they had gone to bed.
A teenage boy with olive skin, wearing a bell hop uniform stood inside the doorway of the hotel. Maya recognized him as her oldest cousin, Chase. He had been born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, which had caused brain damage. He was eighteen years old and his job was to help carry the luggage for the hotel guests.
"Hi, Chase." She gave him a hug.
Chase usually didn't say much. He pulled his head back, squeezing his eyebrows together as he tried to make sense out of the garbage bag of belongings he had beside him.
"I suppose you don't see many guests carrying their things in garbage bags," Maya chuckled.
Chase gave her a long, hard stare but didn’t respond. It was difficult to know if he didn’t know how to talk, or if he didn’t want to.
"Better take off that shoe and wash it," Ahote said with a nod. "Chase will show you to your cousin's room."
Chase grunted, gave a nod, and carried her things.
"Goodnight, young one, and if you ever need someone to chat with, I am usually by the stables." He turned to head back.
Maya took off her dung-covered shoe and followed Chase, who had already set off down the hall. The building’s air conditioning was inviting.
They walked through the lobby with antique couches and tables with circular, wine-colored rugs over the wood flooring. There was a mirror on the wall, but it was bare otherwise. They passed the empty front desk. A bell sat on the edge beside a nameplate that read Roz. (That was Aunt Roslyn's nickname.) They passed a staircase which curved around, leading to the upstairs dining hall, and headed towards two hallways; one forked left and the other right.
Chase led Maya to the left hall where they made a right turn, walked to the end of the corridor, and then made another right. The hallways connected in a circle, with wood paneling from the waist up, and gold and wine-colored striped wallpaper from the waist down. Pictures of men and women from the Renaissance era lined the walls with brass sconces between each one that lit the way to the rooms.
"Sorry we interrupted your sleep," Maya told Chase when they arrived at room 111.
Chase didn't reply but hung his head. He took a large, circular ring full of old-fashioned skeleton keys from his belt loop. He picked one and stuck it into the door, which swung open with a creak.
Maya saw movement on one of the double beds inside.
"Chase!" a girl yelled. "I told you not to come in my room without knocking!" A pillow flew at his face.
He caught it in his left hand and tossed it back gently onto the foot of her bed before handing Maya a key and walking off.
"Goodnight, Chase," Maya called after him, but he didn’t acknowledge her.
She entered the room. "It's me, your cousin, Maya."
Twenty seconds of awkward silence passed.
"Come in and shut the freakin' door!"
The room was pitch black. Maya felt as though the darkness was closing in and she was anxious. Her heart began to thump. She flipped on the light. As she did so, her wrist knocked something over on the dresser. She picked it up to see a first-place trophy for piano playing.
Chantal squinted and pulled her pillow over her blond head. The recessive gene had come from her father and was passed down to her and her younger brother, Lance. Their skin was beautifully tan year-round. Chantal looked like a perfect little doll in blue pajamas. "I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow," she said with a muffled voice.
"We were going to but decided to surprise everyone a day early. I think my dad spoiled the surprise and called to give everyone a heads up." Maya pulled out her pajamas from the garbage bag, which rustled noisily.
"No, nobody told me you were coming. Will you shut that light off?" she asked irritably.
"Sorry." Maya pulled out her night light, plugged it in, and turned out the light. "Someone must have told Grandma we were coming. She and Ahote were waiting for us."
"Nobody has to tell Grandma anything. She just knows things."
Maya knew this was ridiculous, but she wasn’t going to be contradictory the first night she arrived. She pulled on her pajamas but slid on the garbage bag and fell.
Chantal grunted and kicked from under the covers.
Maya tried to pick herself back up, but as she did she stepped on something, making it crunch.
Again, more grunting and kicking, and this time Chantal pulled the pillow over her head. Seconds later, she lifted her head from under the pillow and said, "What smells like poop?"
"Oh, I stepped in manure on my way in from the stables," she replied, grabbing the shoe and taking it into the bathroom. She turned on the bathtub and began to rinse it under the noisy running water. Big clumps of manure went down the drain.
"Just perfect. Am I going to get any sleep tonight?" Chantal yelled.
Maya tried to hurry, leaving the shoes on the tile to dry.
"If you don't quit being so loud, I'm going to throw you out and you can sleep in the hall. What is that big bag of trash doing in my room?!" she shrieked.
Maya ran out of the bathroom to see Chantal sitting up and furrowing her brow.
Maya felt attacked. Maybe she should have listened to Roy before she left the house and put her belongings in something else. "Those are my things."
"And what are you doing with a night light? You’re fifteen years old, hon."
"I-I just need it or I can't sleep," Maya said, feeling her cheeks flush with warmth.
Chantal rolled her eyes and dramatically fell backward onto her pillow. "Can we go to bed now?"
"Yes." Maya crawled into bed beside her.
She turned to her. "Maya, can I ask you a question?”
“Hmm?”
“Can your dad afford to buy you a suitcase?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't he?"
Maya rolled her eyes and rolled toward her cousin. "Can I ask you a question? Are you always this annoying, or only late at night?"
She let out an exasperated breath.
"Goodnight, Chantal." She rolled to face the wall.
6. The Brat Pack
The following morning, Maya awoke to find Chantal's side of the bed empty. The clock on the nightstand read six o'clock.
Normal teenagers don’t wake up at the butt-crack of dawn.
Now that there was daylight shining in the hotel bedroom, Maya took a moment to look around. It was clearly never used for guests, the way it was decorated with posters of horses, and she had an entire shelf dedicated to her Kachina dolls; Maya counted them—fourteen in all. The violet duvet matched the sheer curtains. The dresser matched her wood floors. There were certificates of achievement for the piano hanging above it, and a small music box shaped like a piano. Across from the bed was the bathroom. A closet was next to the dresser. Maya had been taught it was rude to sleep the day away when you were a guest. She stretched, got out of bed, and decided to find Chantal. Hopefully they would get along better today than they had last night.
She headed down the deserted hallway until she arrived at the front desk where a woman sitting in a rolling chair with tousled black hair was concluding a phone conversation.
"Aunt Roz!" Maya leaned in for a quick hug.
She smiled. "Maya! How are you, honey?"
"Well, I'm alright given the circumstances, I guess."
Roz tilted her head to the side. "Poor thing. I wish I could visit Autumn, but there would be no one to run the hotel. I hope she'll have a quick recovery." The phone started to ring and she snatched up the receiver. "Foster Bed and Breakfast, this is Roz..."
Obviously, her father hadn’t mentioned to her aunt that her mother’s illness had no cure.
She turned from the counter to the lobby where she noticed Chantal, fully dressed and engaged in conversation with three girls their age, walking in her direction. Suddenly, she caugh
t a glimpse of Maya and froze. The other girls paused their chit-chat and fell in line with Chantal, looking Maya over with scrutinizing eyes.
Maya looked down at herself and saw that she was still in her pajamas.
The other girls frowned at her and then looked to Chantal for an explanation.
"This is my cousin, Maya," Chantal told her friends in a high-pitched voice. Her cheeks were red. "Maya, these are my friends: Mindy, Kira, and Paris."
Each said "hi" quietly, without directly looking at her. Mindy had brown curly hair and a nice tan. Kira was mulatto with curly, dark brown hair and traces of blond framing her face with dramatic green eyes. Paris had an air about her that told Maya she was the leader of the group. She was tall, thin, and had bleached blond hair with a half inch of brown roots. She also had what Maya and her friends back home called resting bitch face, which meant her face permanently looked like she was trying to be a bitch. The three of them looked like a pack of rich brats. However, from the way Chantal had been laughing at their jokes a minute prior, she was trying too hard.
"Maya, let’s go back to our room and find something for you to wear, okay?" Chantal said, frowning.
Maya didn't argue.
When they were out of earshot, Chantal whispered over her shoulder in a scolding tone, "I know we live here, but that doesn't mean you can waltz around in your pajamas. I have a reputation!"
Chantal unlocked the door to room 111 and Maya began to rummage through her bag.
"Why don't you wear some of my jean shorts?" Chantal offered, holding up a pair.
"I think I'll be just fine on my own, thanks."
"You don't understand. These are designer. My friends and I wear these." She shoved them at Maya, insistently.
"Okay," Maya replied, pulling them on.
There was a knock at the door.
Chantal opened it to find her three friends pushing their way in.
Maya pulled out some socks from her bag.
"What are you doing with that garbage bag?" Paris asked, lifting her top lip in disgust.
"I didn't have a suitcase," she replied, feeling stupid.
"You look like the homeless lady at the park," she said with a snicker. Kira and Mindy giggled hysterically. Paris kicked the bag, making it fall over so she could get by.
"Excuse me," Maya said, "but all of my important stuff is in there."
The puzzle box rolled out at Paris's feet. She picked it up and shook it while mocking her. "My important stuff is in there."
They laughed harder. Chantal hung her head.
"Oh, I forgot. One man's trash is another person's treasure." She smiled, lifted the bag, flung it over her shoulder, and started walking around like she was a runway model.
"What is this? A night light!" Kira said, pointing at the outlet.
Another big laugh erupted.
"Those shorts are Chantal's," Mindy said, sarcastically. "You should wear your own clothes."
More laughter.
Maya exploded. "You three aren't everything you think you are. I could remove ninety percent of your beauty with a tissue. This is my family's hotel and I belong here more than any of you."
The smiles fell from their smug faces.
"Let's get breakfast," Paris said, dropping the bag. She looked back at Maya, as if to make sure she had not been a figment of her imagination, then walked out of the room; the other girls followed.
Maya retrieved her shoe from the bathroom. When she returned, Chantal was gone. She hung her head for a moment and then Chantal peeked around the door and said, "C'mon, Maya."
She considered staying in the room, but reluctantly followed. They walked past the front desk where Aunt Roslyn waved at them as she ate her breakfast.
They climbed the winding stone staircase. To the left was a door that said Grand Ballroom and to the right was the dining hall. A buffet table sat in the center, surrounded by several tables and chairs made of cherry wood.
Chantal and the Brat Pack sat at an empty table in the back of the room. Maya took a seat next to Chantal. The soft, velvety cushions were wine-colored and laced with elegant gold trim. Windows overlooked miles of jagged rocks and gaping slot canyons, orange and yellow in the rising sun. The stables were also within view.
Paris shot Chantal a glare when she saw Maya, but she said nothing. Maya ignored it and looked to see who was sitting at the surrounding tables. She noticed Roy, Warren, and Chase sitting together. Warren's eyes met hers. He gave her a warm smile.
She returned the smile, getting an overwhelming sensation in her stomach as it flipped.
"Hey, who is that guy sitting next to your brother and Warren?" Paris asked, with excitement in her voice.
Chantal glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, him? He's my cousin Roy."
Maya narrowed her eyes at Paris, but she didn't notice. Just the thought of her having an interest in her brother disgusted her.
“Does he have a girlfriend?” Paris tossed her hair to one side.
“Yes,” Maya lied, with a straight face. “She’s a brunette and likes to snowboard. She’s a real down-to-earth type.”
Paris glared at her. “Well, that can change. I’m up for the challenge.” She turned to Chantal. "Will you introduce me to him?"
"Sure. If he comes over here," Chantal said as she played with the fork that was set in front of her.
Paris looked at Maya with interest. "How old is your brother?"
"Seventeen," she said through gritted teeth.
"Does he drive yet?" She raised one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
"Yes. Why so interested?" Maya asked.
"No reason," Paris said, her voice squeaking as if Maya were now her best friend. Their eyes met. "How long has he been dating his girlfriend?"
She didn't smile back. "That's kind of personal.”
Paris scowled. “I plan on getting up close and personal.” She shot another glance at Roy.
Maya considered what Roy might say if she asked him not to pay attention to Paris. He probably wouldn’t listen to her. He always acted on his own instincts when it came to the female species.
Their attention was diverted when a plump woman wearing an apron covered with stains emerged from the kitchen with a spatula in one hand. She carried a tray of eggs in the other. A big blob of yellow food hung on the corner of her mouth.
"Did you see that?" Paris asked after the cook passed. "Someone should tell her she has something on her chin, the third one down."
They laughed.
"Yeah, I hope it doesn't fall into the food," Kira replied, pulling a face.
More laughter.
The woman set the tray down on the buffet table with a wide assortment of eggs, pancakes, fruits, and many other appetizing dishes. Maya, who hadn't had a home-cooked meal in ages, felt her stomach grumble.
Secrets of the Anasazi Page 5