Room Service

by Maren Stoffels

  When she was so angry, she seemed a lot like her.

  Actually, I’m no better than Kate.

  I liked Linnea only when I saw the resemblance to her. I made Linnea into a replacement too.

  She sacrificed herself for friends she can’t trust. We’re wrapped up together in one big web of lies.

  If anything happens to her now, it’s my fault. Just like a year ago.

  I wasn’t able to save her, but it’s not too late for Linnea.

  I walk to the door and open it. No one asks where I’m going. No one asks what I’m going to do.

  I slam the door behind me so hard that the echo booms along the hallway.

  I have to find Linnea.

  The church bells ring outside, but I lose count. How long have I been in here?

  Claus is sitting on the edge of the bed. The ropes are cutting deeper and deeper into my wrists, as if someone has pulled them tight. My arms are cramping up. I’m exhausted.

  “How much do you actually know about Isolde?” asks Claus.

  “Not much.”

  “So your friends never told you anything about her?”

  “They’re not my friends. They’re her friends. I was just allowed to borrow them for a while.”

  I don’t want to say that, and certainly not to Claus, but then, to my surprise, I see his expression soften.

  “What happened?” he asks. For a moment I see a glimpse of the boy I first met: considerate and understanding.

  A thought shoots through my mind: This is it. I have to get him on my side, make him feel some sympathy. I remember a movie I watched not that long ago with my mom and dad. A kidnap victim got friendly with her abductor and was eventually able to escape when he left her unguarded.

  New energy flows through me and I sit up straighter.

  “Kate calls me Spinner. I didn’t know it was actually Isolde’s nickname. I thought Kate came up with it for me.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Claus says with a sigh. “And the braid was her idea too, I bet.”

  What? The braid? I remember Kate braiding my hair. Did Isolde wear her hair in a braid?

  “Yeah, that was her idea,” I say quietly. “I hate them. All three of them.”

  “Really?” asks Claus.

  “Really.” Have I gone too far? But Claus seems to be deep in thought. It’s time to use my tactics.

  I have to handle this like the girl in the movie.

  “I know you don’t want to do this,” I say quietly. “You’re not a bad person. You really helped me this afternoon. Thanks to you, I finally dared to stand up to Fender.”

  Claus nods slowly.

  I start crying. I don’t even have to try too hard. The tears weren’t that far away.

  “Stop it,” he says quietly. “You know I can’t handle it when girls cry.”

  “Sorry,” I say as I splutter and start to cough. Before long, I really will have breathing problems.

  “Stop it,” says Claus.

  “S-sorry,” I pant.

  “Calm down.” I feel a hand on my head again, close to that painful wound. “Come on, calm down.”

  He gently strokes from my forehead to the start of my braid, his hand moving slowly along the herringbone pattern. His touch disgusts me, but I force myself to stay calm. I don’t want him to suspect that this is all fake. I have to keep it up.

  Claus’s hand stops at the tip of my braid. I hold my breath. Is he finally going to untie me? If he does, then the door’s not far. I can reach it before Claus realizes I’m making a run for it.

  But then a sharp pain shoots through my skull, like my head’s splitting in two. Claus has grabbed my braid and is pulling my head back. Through a haze of tears, I see Claus’s face close to mine.

  “Do you think I don’t know what you’re up to?” he hisses.

  I try to shake my head, but immediately regret it. A new jolt of pain makes me gag.

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “You’re trying to mess with me.” Claus pulls my head back even more.

  “No!” I scream. “I’m not! I’m not!”

  “Do you think I’m stupid? Why would you kiss someone you hate?”

  The kiss with Lucas. Claus saw us together.

  “You’re one of them, so that makes you just as bad.” Claus pulls harder still. It feels like all my hair is coming away from my scalp.

  “I’m sorry!”

  “You really have no idea what happened that day.” Claus’s voice cracks.

  “Then tell me,” I plead.

  Claus lets go of me and I fall back onto the bed.

  Weeping, I close my eyes and pull my legs up. The ropes slice viciously into my skin when I roll onto my side, but anything is better than looking at him.

  I go downstairs and approach the receptionist.

  “Excuse me, could I ask you something?”

  “Of course. You played beautifully, by the way.”

  It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking about my piano performance.

  “Thank you. Um, I just wanted to ask if there’s someone called Claus staying here. Could you maybe check the system?”

  “I’m not allowed to do that.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t really important.”

  The woman hesitates. Why won’t she just do it? I drum my fingers on the counter. A new solo. When all of this is over, I’m going to work it out on my guitar, just for her. And a little bit for Linnea too.

  “Please.” All my despair is in that one word—and it works. The receptionist focuses on her screen. I hold my breath as she scans the guest list.

  “Do you have a last name for him?”

  “No,” I say. “Just Claus.”

  After what seems to be an hour, the woman looks up.

  “He’s not here.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no one with that first name staying at the hotel right now.”

  I turn around.

  “Sorry,” I hear her say, but her voice sounds far away, like I’m swimming underwater.

  I walk to the stairs and sink down onto the bottom step.

  He checked in under a different name. He must have.

  If I’d been quicker when Room Service called, I could have caught him.

  I could blame Lucas and Kate, but I’m really the only one who’s to blame.

  An eye for an eye.

  What if he does the same to Linnea as happened to her last year? I picture Linnea covered with scars.

  That can’t happen. It must not happen.

  “Fender!” A slap on my back startles me. “What are you up to?”

  It’s Kate’s dad. Frank’s wearing khakis with a shirt and tie and carrying a folder with the logo of his law firm on it.

  “Hey. I…”

  “You guys have a good dinner?” Frank continues. “The desserts here are out of this world.”

  “Yes, sir. It was great,” I manage to say. “Thank you.”

  “Sir?” Frank bursts out laughing. “Since when am I a sir?”

  “Um, sorry,” I say quickly. If I go on like this, I’ll give myself away.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “And is my daughter having a good time?”

  “Sure is.” My voice sounds high and strained.

  “I was going to come by to say hi this evening.”

  “No!” It just slips out. “I mean…”

  “I get it.” Frank puts his hand on my shoulder. “That’s the last thing my teenage daughter wants, right? Yep, I know better than to burn my fingers on that one.”

  I force a smile.

  “Have fun. Say hi to Kate and the others.”

  He has no idea that “the
others” is just Lucas right now.

  What would he do if I told him the truth?

  For a moment I consider confessing everything. About Claus and the bear and Linnea.

  But then I remember the rules of the game. The last time we ignored them, Claus took Linnea. Who knows what he’ll do this time?

  “Will do,” I say.

  Frank heads off to the restaurant. Thank goodness he’s not going to come say hi. I don’t even want to think about him seeing the room.

  That’s going to happen tomorrow anyway, but we’re safe for now.

  I know better than to burn my fingers on that one.

  It’s like all the cogs inside my head start turning at once.

  That’s it.

  Fire.

  “Why are you lying to me?” Claus paces the room. “If you do that, I’ll have to hurt you again.”

  My head feels like there are a thousand needles jabbing into it. I turn my face even more away from him.

  Why did that Isolde ever get involved with him? He is seriously disturbed.

  “You have no idea how hard it was to arrange all this. I needed a room on the same floor as yours—and it costs a fortune! So you’re not going to spoil this for me. You hear me? Those so-called friends of yours need to be punished, if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Why?” I stammer. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Someone has to.” Claus is still pacing up and down. “They murdered her.”

  I shake my head. “It was suicide.”

  “Is that right? If a gang of people breaks you down until you can see no other way out, is that suicide?”

  I think about the diary.

  “But she hated you too.”

  I can tell right away that I’ve gone too far. Claus falls silent. And then there’s a huge bang. The champagne bottle has smashed into the wall beside the window. Pieces of glass fly everywhere, and a puddle of champagne spreads over the carpet.

  “I loved her!” Claus shrieks. “More than that Fender ever did.”

  I cringe. I can’t stand up to him again. It’s way too dangerous.

  “He didn’t deserve her.” Claus wipes the bubbles of spit from his mouth. “He murdered her.”

  “How…how did you get her diary?”

  I have to keep Claus talking. It won’t be long before he realizes he can’t imprison me here forever. And who knows what he’ll do to me then?

  Claus straightens his back. “There was a memorial service at her house. I walked right in. I think her mom and dad were really happy to have someone there who said he was a friend of hers. While her brother was giving a speech, I went to Isolde’s room. Her diary was still under her pillow.”

  He stole from her bedroom while her family was mourning. What kind of person does that?

  I’m silent, but my face must show my disgust, because Claus walks over to me and says, “I’m not proud of it, if that’s what you’re thinking, but someone had to do it. Those three can’t be allowed to get away with it. Isolde’s death needs revenge.”

  “Then what am I doing here?” I force myself to look at him. “What’s your plan?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” says Claus. “I’m only just getting started.”

  My hand hovers over the button. I know what’s going to happen. Last year, some joker set off the fire alarm at school for fun.

  Within ten minutes, everyone, including the teachers and the janitor, was outside in the schoolyard.

  There’s a hefty fine for the inappropriate use of the alarm, but I have to do this.

  Linnea has to be found.

  I push the red button.

  For one second, it’s silent, but then the alarm starts shrieking. The sound penetrates every fiber of my body.

  I flatten myself against the wall and watch as the doors to the rooms open one by one.

  I just hope I have the right floor. It was a guess, but he must be somewhere close to us. Right up at the top.

  More and more guests are coming out. Men, women, children. Big, small, long hair, short hair…

  “Come on, Claus,” I say quietly. “Where are you?”

  The sound is deafening.

  I open the door a crack and peep through.

  The whole hotel is emptying out.

  I take a step into the hallway.

  “Out of the way!”

  A woman pushes me aside and hurries past.

  “There’s a fire!” someone shouts.

  A fire?

  There’s no way I can escape with Linnea without being seen.

  Has this all just been a waste of time?

  At the end of the hallway, a boy is leaning against the wall.

  He’s the only one who’s not headed outside.

  Our eyes meet and linger for a couple of seconds.

  It’s Fender.

  He’s here.

  Claus is exactly as Linnea described him: a boy you’d hardly notice, unless you know who you’re looking for.

  Before I can blink, he’s disappeared.

  “No need for concern,” I hear someone from the hotel calling down the hallway. “Please proceed calmly outside. Take the stairs.”

  I sprint to the other end of the hallway. The door Claus came out of is closed. When I see the gold numbers, I gasp.

  Room 312.

  Opposite the door that Linnea and I knocked on.

  We were so close.

  I try the handle, but of course it doesn’t work.

  “Open up!” I pound the door as hard as I can. Should I smash it down, like I’ve seen people do in the movies?

  “Claus, I know you’re in there. Linnea! Linnea, is everything okay?”

  My voice cracks. A few last guests walk past me.

  “Young man!” The hotel employee shouts down the hallway. “Everyone has to leave the building.”

  I bang the door again. “Claus, open up. Now.”

  “Young man!” The man comes hurrying toward me. “Do you hear me?”

  “Claus,” I say. “Please…”

  Then something is slid under the door. I look at the gold envelope at my feet.

  Without thinking about it, I snatch it off the floor and put it in my inside pocket.

  The man from the hotel is standing beside me now.

  “Outside. Now. This is not a drill.”

  I look at the door. If I go, I’ll be leaving Linnea with that madman. But if I tell this man that someone’s being held captive in there, Claus could panic. What if it makes him do something to Linnea?

  My only choice is to go with the man.

  “I’ll be back,” I say quietly as I walk down the hallway. “I promise.”

  * * *

  When I get outside, there are hundreds of people on the sidewalk. Amid all the commotion, I hear someone call my name and I see Kate making her way over to me through the crowd.

  “Fender! Where were you? I was so scared that you…”

  “There is no fire,” I say. “It was me who set off the alarm.”

  “Why?” Lucas comes over to join us.

  “To force Claus out of his hiding place.” I look back at the Riverside. “He’s in Room 312.”

  Kate’s eyes widen. “You’ve seen him?”

  “Yes, he came out when the alarm went off, but he closed the door when he saw me.” I take the envelope out of my pocket.

  “He pushed this under the door for me.”

  I take a folded sheet of paper from the envelope. Kate gasps—she recognized it immediately too.

  She used the same speckled paper last year for the invitations to her party. The invitation hung on my bulletin board for a week.

  Later that week I pulled it down and tore it into a hundred pieces. I kept ri
pping away until tiny scraps were all that remained. It looked like it had been snowing in my bedroom.

  “Read it,” stammers Kate.

  INVITATION

  Congratulations!

  You have been invited to the party of the year.

  Wear your finery and come to Room 312 at 11 p.m.

  At midnight on the dot we’ll drink to a wonderful new year of life.

  Claus

  “Kate…” She has the same despair in her eyes as I feel inside.

  Was this what Claus wanted all along? Is that why he took Linnea? So he could be certain we’d show up?

  “Okay, people. Everyone back inside,” shouts a hotel employee. The rest of his words disappear inside my crowded head.

  Around us, the sidewalk is slowly emptying, but we stay there.

  I’ve found Linnea, but she feels more out of reach than ever.

  All the messages from Room Service were nothing. They were just a warm-up for the grand finale: Kate’s birthday.

  He was here. Fender was here, but he went away.

  He left me behind.

  “W-we have to go,” I stammer. “There’s a fire….”

  “There is no fire,” Claus snaps. “It was that friend of yours.”

  The wailing alarm stops as suddenly as it started. The echo rings inside my head.

  It takes a moment for my ears to get used to the silence, but then I can hear the usual sounds again.

  There are lots of voices out on the sidewalk, like people standing in line for a concert. And then I hear one voice above all the others.

  “Okay, people. Everyone back inside. It was a false alarm. Someone pressed the button just for fun. We’ll find out who it was. On behalf of the Riverside, I offer my sincere apologies for the inconvenience.”

  Claus was right. There is no fire. Could it really be true that Fender pressed the button? But why?

  Claus pulls one of his suitcases out from under the bed. He has a few of them, as if he’s packed for a year.

  I notice that my muscles automatically tense up.