Amanda in New Mexico

by Foster, Darlene;

  Amanda’s stomach rumbled. “Are we having lunch here?”

  “Yes. We’ll have lunch and then look around. You’ll find this place interesting. Many famous people from the Wild West stayed here.” Ms. Bowler led the way into the hotel.

  The first thing Amanda noticed was the massive head of a bison hanging on one wall of the chandelier-lit lobby. Stag heads decorated other walls and a grandfather clock stood in a corner. The colonial furniture and western paintings, sculptures and cowboy artifacts gave the room a welcoming feeling. But, Amanda still felt uneasy.

  “This is like stepping into a cowboy movie,” said Caleb.

  Amanda picked up a leather-bound guest book. Burnt into the cover, like a brand, were the words:

  the St. James Hotel

  Est. 1880

  “This place has been around for a long time.”

  “We have reservations in the restaurant so we better get in there,” Ms. Bowler announced as she walked toward a set of saloon doors.

  Their table sat beside a fireplace under the massive head of a Texas Longhorn. The scary horns spanned the entire brick wall. Amanda wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with the heads of animals around her, but put that thought out of her mind when she saw the menu.

  “I’m going to have the bean burrito with green salsa. What are you having, Cleo?”

  “It all looks good. It’s so hard to decide. I love Tex-Mex food.”

  “I’m having a bison burger.” Caleb smacked his lips.

  A waitress with a huge smile arrived. “Hi, I’m Sadie. What can I get you kids to drink today?”

  Once everyone placed their orders, Amanda asked, “How long have you worked here, Sadie?”

  “Seven years,” Sadie replied. “I love it here. But then, I’m not afraid of ghosts.” She left to get the drinks.

  Cleo paled. Amanda’s mouth hung open.

  Caleb flashed them a devilish smile. “Don’t you know? This place is supposed to be haunted.”

  “How do you know that?” Cleo barely whispered.

  “I did some research on the internet last night. There have been sightings of ghosts and paranormal activities here. Ghost Hunters International even filmed an episode here. After lunch, I plan to go ghost hunting myself. Do you want to come along, Cleo?”

  Cleo bit her bottom lip and looked down.

  “Leave her alone, Caleb.” Amanda glared at him. “Maybe we should have left you in that kiln.”

  “Sorry, my bad.” Caleb rolled his eyes and scratched his head.

  Sadie arrived balancing a large tray of drinks. As she handed them around, Amanda asked, “Is there any proof there are ghosts in this hotel?”

  “Well, I once set the table for a banquet in one of the large rooms. When I came back, the cutlery was all over the place. Another time I could smell roses in one of the hallways. There were no roses anywhere, in fact, it was wintertime. The late owner of the hotel wore rose scented perfume. My friend who works in the bar told me she saw a cowboy reflected in the large mirror behind the bar. When she turned around, he wasn’t there.” She shook her head. “These things may not be proof but it makes you wonder. Now, what do you all want to eat?”

  Cleo swallowed. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

  15

  AFTER LUNCH, MR. SAMSON TOOK THEM INTO THE ADJOINing bar. A typical western saloon, it held a long counter with bar stools along it, a huge ornate mirror and spittoons on the floor.

  He pointed up. “Do you see those holes?”

  Amanda noticed dark holes peppering the white tiled ceiling.

  “Those are bullet holes from gun fights. Cimarron is a Spanish word meaning wild or unruly and this town definitely lived up to its name. Many arguments were settled by gunfights in the old days. Twenty-six people ended their lives here in this very hotel.”

  “How horrible,” murmured Amanda.

  “Have a look around, take pictures and make notes, but don’t be a nuisance or get into any trouble.” Mr. Samson looked straight at Amanda and Cleo.

  Amanda’s cheeks reddened and she looked at Cleo. “Let’s get out of here.” She didn’t like being thought of as a troublemaker.

  They went back into the lobby and looked more closely at the artifacts on display. Amanda opened the guest book she had noticed earlier. On the first page, she read about famous people like Wyatt Earp, Annie Oakley and Buffalo Bill Cody. They once stayed at the hotel and their rooms were on display.

  “Can we see the rooms upstairs?” Amanda asked the woman at the front desk.

  “No, I’m sorry but there isn’t a guide available today, and you are not allowed upstairs on your own. Overnight guests stay in the famous rooms.”

  Amanda pouted. “I really wanted to see these old rooms. We came all the way from Canada to see this.”

  Cleo tugged her sleeve and whispered, “It’s OK. We don’t need to see those scary old rooms anyway.”

  A man carrying a mop and a bucket came up behind them. “I can show you around if you’d like. I’m about to go up there anyway.”

  Amanda’s eyes lit up. “Really! That would be so awesome.”

  “My name’s Len. Just follow me,” said the man. He unclipped the red rope, with a no admittance sign hanging from it, in front of the stairs.

  “Hey, wait for me.” Caleb arrived, breathless. “I like stuff about cowboys.”

  They followed Len up the creaking, ornate, carpeted stairs to a dimly lit stairwell. At the top of the stairs, a picture hung on the red and gold striped papered wall. Cleo gasped when she saw the image of a young girl in white.

  “It’s just a picture, Cleo. There are no such things as ghosts.” Amanda pursed her lips.

  Len replied, “Some say there are ghosts in this hotel and others say it’s hogwash.” He chuckled. “I guess you can believe whatever you want.”

  The man flicked on a switch lighting a narrow hallway. Tilted chandeliers illuminated closed doors along each side. On each door hung a sign.

  Amanda walked up to the first door and read out loud. “Room 21 William J. Cody.”

  “That’s the real name of Buffalo Bill Cody,” said Caleb.

  “Yup, it sure was and he slept in this very room,” said Len.

  Caleb read the next sign, “Room 22 Zane Grey. Hey, he wrote cowboy stories that my grandpa lent me to read.”

  “Look over here, this is the room Annie Oakley slept in. She had an exciting life. I did a book report on a biography of her. Can we look in some of these rooms?” asked Amanda.

  “Sure, I have keys for some of the ones that are not currently being let out. We can visit the room Wyatt Earp stayed in. Do you know who he was?”

  “I do,” said Caleb. “He was a sheriff and he and his brothers had a shootout with some outlaws at the OK Corral in Tombstone, Arizona. My parents and I went on a holiday there. We watched a pretend gunfight. It was way cool.”

  “Wyatt Earp and his brothers stayed in this hotel on the way to Tombstone.” Len pulled out a huge bundle of old fashioned keys.

  “Ouch. Stop that.” Cleo shook her head.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Amanda.

  Cleo clasped the back of her neck and glared at Caleb. “Someone pulled my hair.”

  “Don’t look at me. Maybe the ghost of Annie Oakley pulled your hair.” Caleb teased.

  Amanda gave him a stern look. “A hair probably got caught in your hoodie. It happens to me sometimes. Come on, let’s look in Wyatt Earp’s room.”

  Len showed them a few of the famous rooms and explained how they had been restored to look exactly like they did in the 1800s. Amanda liked the old beds with puffy down quilts and brass headboards. Decorated water jugs and bowls sat on ornate dressers. Each room had a cozy fireplace. Amanda kept feeling like someone was watching her as she went from room to room. She noticed Cleo looking over her shoulder too.

  “If you smell roses in this next room, it may be Mary Lambert. She always wore rose-scented perfume.”

 
“Was she the owner of the hotel?” asked Amanda.

  “Yes, Mary was the wife of Henri Lambert, the man who built the St. James Hotel. Together they operated the hotel and raised five children. She was a hardworking woman and well respected in the community. They say she still watches over the hotel and protects the people in it.”

  “This room is pretty.” Amanda sniffed but couldn’t smell roses. She murmured to Caleb, “They probably just spray rose scent around, to fool everyone.”

  When they were almost at the end of the hallway, Len stopped and turned around. “This is as far as we go, kids. We are not allowed to go into Room 18.”

  “Why not?” asked Caleb.

  “That is the cowboy, T. J. Wright’s room. One night in 1881, after winning at the gambling table, he was shot from behind as he left the gambling room. He crawled to his room and bled to death. But it seems his angry spirit never left. Many folks say they’ve seen him wandering around the hotel at night.”

  Amanda felt a chill go through her when she glanced at the padlocked room.

  Ring Ring!

  The maintenance man reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

  “Yup, I’ll be right there.” Len put the phone back in his pocket. “I have to go. A problem with one of the toilets. Come on, kids.”

  16

  CALEB AND CLEO FOLLOWED LEN DOWN THE HALLWAY. Amanda stood riveted to the spot. A shrill whistle filled the air. An icy cold shiver ran through her body.

  Creak…

  Amanda’s shoulders tightened. She stared at the padlocked door to Room 18. It had opened a crack.

  The hair on her arms lifted. Her breath came in rasps.

  She sensed someone in the hallway. Her scalp prickled. She wanted to run, to scream, but she was petrified. With a clammy hand, she reached for the handle of the door to Room 19 beside her. The knob turned and the door opened.

  Slipping inside, she leaned against the door to make sure it stayed shut tight. Her belly ached as if it had been kicked and the air was knocked out of her. Wiping the beads of sweat from her upper lip, she peered through the dim light. The room looked similar to the others they had visited.

  Something scratched at the door. Panic welled up inside her. Wide-eyed, Amanda ran to the bed. Lifting the patchwork duvet, she climbed under the covers and pulled them over her shaking head. Heartbeats thundered in her ears.

  Someone was in the room.

  Even under the down quilt, her entire body shivered from the cold. Something touched the comforter. Her muscles froze. Scuffling sounds neared the bed.

  A latch clicked. A window opened.

  Everything went silent. Amanda waited for a few minutes, then slowly uncovered her head and glanced around. A faint scent of roses surrounded her. The room became brighter and warmer. The sheer curtains fluttered in the open window. She no longer felt afraid.

  Amanda got out from under the covers and smoothed the bedding. She tiptoed to the door and gradually opened it. She peered down the hall. Nothing.

  Without looking at Room 18, T.J. Wright’s room, she dashed to the stairs and ran down them as fast as she could.

  Once in the lobby, she took a deep breath and looked for her friends. No one was around, not even the woman behind the reception desk.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Amanda walked through the swinging doors into the restaurant. No one was there either. She went out a back door to the outside eating area and surveyed the empty tables and chairs. She stopped to listen. It felt like something was beside her. As she slowly turned to look, a huge bear leaned out a window holding a pie.

  She opened her mouth to scream. Her throat seized up and nothing came out.

  “What’s wrong with you, Amanda?” Cleo appeared from around a corner. “You look like you just had a runin with a ghost. Oh, that’s right, you don’t believe they exist.”

  Amanda gave her head a shake. The window with the bear holding the pie was just a mural painted on the wall.

  She laughed nervously. “For a minute I actually thought that bear was real. That’s a good painting.”

  Cleo shrugged her shoulders up to her ears. “You thought the bear was real, but you don’t believe me when I tell you I see ghosts?”

  “Where is everyone, anyway?” asked Amanda.

  “They’re in the gambling room, listening to stories about the guys that have been shot here in this hotel. The boys think it’s cool but I think it’s depressing.”

  “Did they talk about T. J. Wright, the cowboy from Room 18?”

  “Oh, yes. Apparently, he harasses guests here all the time. But the ghost of Mary Lambert, who is called the protector, often chases him away. She doesn’t like her guests being upset. He sometimes goes into the room next to his and bothers whoever is in there. Room 19, I think it is. It used to be the room of Mary Lambert’s daughter.”

  “Really?” Amanda paled. She remembered the rose scent in Room 19 and wondered if Mary Lambert had chased T.J. Wright away. That is if it was him, or rather his ghost, in the room with her. Amanda flapped her hand. “No way! I don’t think so. It’s probably just a publicity stunt to increase business for the hotel.”

  “Whatever,” mumbled Cleo.

  The courtyard filled up with the other students.

  “There’ve been some cool shootouts here.” Caleb walked over to the girls. “Have you two been ghost hunting? This would be the perfect place.” He glanced at Amanda. “You look a bit pale. You OK?”

  “I’m all right. Just feel a bit funny, that’s all.” Amanda looked away.

  Cleo laughed. “She thought the bear painting was real.”

  “No way!” Caleb chuckled. “It is a good painting, mind you.” He pulled out his camera and took a picture. “I got some great shots today. Can’t wait to download them. I even got a picture of the place T.J. Wright was shot.”

  Amanda swallowed and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

  Her face lit up when Ms. Bowler appeared and said, “If you have seen and heard enough, we should get back.”

  “That’s a great idea. I think we’ve all heard enough about people being shot and ghosts running around.” Amanda headed for the bus.

  Cleo slid in beside her. “That place was full of ghosts, but most of them were harmless. The girl that’s been following me wasn’t there, though.” Cleo sighed and pulled out her sketch pad.

  After a few minutes, Amanda looked over Cleo’s shoulder and saw a young cowboy. Sad eyes stared back at her from the page. A shiver cut through her like the blade of a knife. Amanda leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Confused, she tried not to think of her weird experience at the hotel. But, she had a nagging feeling something about it seemed familiar.

  Then she remembered: that bad dream. The nightmare she had back home when they were planning the trip to New Mexico. The one where she woke up under the covers and couldn’t breathe. The one where she dreamt there was a ghost in the room with her.

  17

  BY THE TIME THE BUS BROUGHT THE STUDENTS BACK TO Taos, it was already dark with a storm brewing. Lightning scarred the sky and thunder echoed across the mountains. The wind howled like a werewolf. Amanda zippered up her jacket before leaving the bus.

  Everyone was glad to be inside. After dinner, the exhausted students retired to their rooms. Cleo didn’t say much. She drew in her sketchbook. Amanda sent a quick email to her parents. Then she started a long one to Leah. She just had to tell someone about what happened at the St. James Hotel. Instead of sending it, though, she put it into a draft folder. Leah might think she had lost her mind. Maybe she had.

  Amanda got bored, so decided to go to the library to find something to read. She skimmed the books, many by writers who had stayed in the Mable Dodge Lohan house over the years. Her eyes landed on a tattered copy of The Laughing Horse magazine. She picked it up and started to look through it when Caleb came in.

  “Hi!”

  “Oh, hi.” Amanda looked up from the m
agazine. “What’re you doing here? You looking for something to read too?”

  “No. Actually, I was looking for you. I need to show you something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I downloaded the pictures I took today and the ones from the gambling room are kind of odd. Do you want to come to my room and see what I mean?”

  “OK, sure.” Amanda put the magazine down on the coffee table in the middle of the room and followed Caleb.

  “Welcome to the Ansel Adams Room.” Caleb opened the door to the room he shared with another boy.

  “Wasn’t he a famous photographer?”

  “Yes, he was. One of the best.” Caleb was already at his computer screen. He showed Amanda the pictures he took that day.

  “You sure got some great shots.” Amanda could see why they had put Caleb in this room.

  “Thanks, but take a look at this.”

  Amanda peered at a dark picture of the gambling room. A round card table covered with a white tablecloth stood in the middle. Wooden chairs were arranged around it. Above one chair, a round light glowed like a translucent snowball.

  Amanda tipped her head to one side. “There could just be something wrong with your camera.”

  “It’s weird. Doesn’t matter what angle the picture is taken from, that same light is in every picture of that room.”

  Caleb clicked through five more shots showing the light above the chair. “It’s not in any shots of other areas of the hotel.” He showed her photos of the bedrooms, dining room and bar. “What do you make of that? This was the room where T.J. Wright was supposed to have been shot.” Caleb’s voice had risen an octave.

  “I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation,” said Amanda. But she wasn’t so sure anymore. “I better get back to the library. I want to get that magazine and read it in my room.”

  “Would you like me to come with you?”