by Lola Swain
Brandt looked like he lost twenty pounds since I saw him last, but he had a beach ball gut that made his robe stick out like he was pregnant. His usually neat hair had grown long and looked like it hadn’t been washed in a very long time. His skin, always smooth and tan was now pasty white and covered in spots.
“Sweet Jesus,” I said, “I don’t know if I even have the heart to kill him. He’s positively pathetic.”
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for that piece of shit,” James said.
Mr. Conway scurried toward the front desk as Brandt and Nellie walked into the lobby.
Nellie had a big smile plastered across her giant face as if she took home the blue ribbon in a 4-H radish growing contest. Brandt grabbed the frames of his sunglasses and pushed them up and into his hair. He put his hands behind his back and looked up at the chandelier and then down at Nellie.
“Where are we?” he said
“Would you stop, you great big joker!” Nellie said and rolled her eyes. “You know where we are.”
“Ma’am,” Scott said, “if the mister would like to have a seat, I’m sure you can check in right now yourself.”
“Yes, thank you,” Nellie said and looked at the floor.
Scott walked up to the front desk with their suitcase and Nellie led Brandt toward the couch beside me. As they walked past me, I dug my fingernails so deeply into my palm, I broke my skin.
“Soon, Sophia,” James said and stepped aside to let Nellie and Brandt pass. “You’ll have her soon.”
“I will be right back, baby. I’m gonna check us into our suite,” Nellie said as she turned toward the front desk. “It is a suite, right?”
“She hurts my ears,” Andy Larabee said.
“Because her voice sounds like a fire truck siren,” Patrick said. “What a racket.”
The three reservation clerks who stood behind the front desk all looked out into the lobby with the same horrified looks on their faces. The old couple who were in attendance for Mr. Conway’s outburst, walked out of the lobby shaking their heads.
I knelt on the floor in front of Brandt. I moved my face close to his and looked into his eyes. The whites of his eyes were now antiqued and flimsy tendrils of red capillaries networked around his iris. His eyes were no longer blue, they were grey. He stared back at me, but looked through me. He also looked through the other guests, through the lobby and through the walls.
“He has some kind of a sickness,” I said and stood up.
“Yeah,” Judah Roderick said as he examined Brandt, “dope sickness.”
“No, Brandt’s never done a drug in his life,” I said.
“Didn’t this ape have you convinced he was a lawyer?” Patrick said.
“Yes, but this is different,” I said.
“I guarantee it,” Judah said. “Heroin, Dilauded…some sort of injectionable. I bet he has tracks all over his arms. Look at him, he’s wasted.”
“He’s wasted away,” I said and sighed.
“Sophia…” James said.
“I don’t feel sorry for him,” I said.
“Ginormica is arguing with poor Tommy,” Céline said and pointed at the front desk.
“And Conway’s hiding behind the columns like a little bitch,” Patrick said.
“You guys stay here and keep an eye on Brandt,” I said and started toward the front desk. “Girls, come with me.”
“Uh, I don’t think Dr. Comatose is going anywhere,” Judah said.
“Just watch him,” I said and walked toward Nellie.
I stood next to her at the front desk and inhaled. She smelled like alcohol.
“Are you listening to me?” Nellie said to Tommy Chartrand.
“Ma’am?” Tommy said and shook his head.
“The room?” Nellie said and sighed. “Are we or are we not getting Room 165?”
“Um, yes, ma’am,” Tommy said. “However, we still need a cash deposit. It covers incidentals. You know…phone calls, room service and such.”
Nellie swiped at her damp, doughy face and then wiped the makeup residue on her hand across the white marble on the side of the front desk.
“I know what fucking incidentals are!”
“Yes, ma’am, well, we still need a deposit,” Tommy said.
“But, I don’t understand,” Nellie said. “Are you requiring a deposit just from us or do you make all of your guests fork over cash?”
“Jesus, just pay the deposit, you cunt. You have all my money,” I said.
“Nice language,” James said from the couch.
“Just focus on Brandt, please,” I said as I watched Nellie dig through my beautiful Chanel purse. “What’s he doing?”
“He’s concentrating on his spit,” Patrick said.
I turned around and James and Patrick sat on the couch on either side of Brandt while Judah and Anthony sat on the floor at his feet. A string of drool hung from Brandt’s bottom lip and his eyes crossed as he stared down at it.
“Lovely,” I said and turned back toward Nellie.
She and Tommy were in a standoff.
“What is your name?” Nellie said.
“Ma’am?”
“Your name, what is it?”
“It’s right here, ma’am,” Tommy said and pointed at his name tag.
“Look at that coward,” I said and cocked my head toward Mr. Conway who watched Nellie from behind the column.
“Look, Tommy,” Nellie said, “I just want to get to our suite. Mr. Therrault has a cold.”
“Yeah, some cold,” May Gaspar said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy said. “If you just present a deposit, I’ll have you on your way.”
“Deposit,” Nellie said as she dug through my purse. “Fine, a fucking deposit. How much?”
“One hundred dollars,” Tommy said. “Cash.”
“Excuse me?” Nellie said as she looked up from my purse. “One hundred dollars? You have some fucking nerve. I wouldn’t give you ten dollars for this piece of shit place!”
The other two reservation clerks standing next to Tommy took a few steps back and left Tommy on his own.
“Oh, shit,” Céline said, “Ginormica is going to get them thrown out.”
“Here comes Conway!” Anthony said.
Mr. Conway jumped from behind the column where he hid and trotted toward Nellie.
“What is going on?” Mr. Conway said as he approached.
“Sir,” Tommy said, “we’re having an issue with the deposit.”
“Yes, sir,” Nellie said and looked at Mr. Conway, “we most certainly are having an issue. Your employee is trying to extort money from me. I thought this was a nice hotel, an honorable place. Is it the Battleroy’s habit of stealing money from rich customers?”
“Please, ma’am,” Mr. Conway said, “lower your voice.”
“Who are you?” Nellie said and snapped the clasp on my purse.
“Mr. C-Conway, the manager.”
Nellie looked at Mr. Conway and licked her lips, dried with the frosted coral lipstick painted on her mouth.
“Mr. Conway, the manager?” she said.
“Yes, that is who I am,” Mr. Conway said and tapped his finger against the top of the front desk.
“Do you remember Mr. Therrault, Mr. Conway?” Nellie said and nodded her head toward Brandt.
“Yes,” Mr. Conway said.
“So, you remember telling Mr. Therrault, no, begging Mr. Therrault to come back here for a stay at no charge?”
Mr. Conway looked over his shoulder at Brandt and then closed his eyes and sighed. He turned back toward Nellie and attempted to look into her eyes.
“He’s terrified of her,” Tara Holderman said.
“Because he knows what she did,” I said.
“Yes, I remember,” Mr. Conway said.
“Good,” Nellie said and smiled. “Then please tell me why this idiot who works here will not check me into my suite until I give him one hundred dollars?”
“It’s policy,” Tommy
Chartrand said.
“Would you shut up?” Nellie said and turned to Tommy. “I asked him, not you.”
“Forget the deposit, Tommy,” Mr. Conway said and looked at his shoes.
“Did you hear that Tommy? Forget the deposit,” Nellie said. “And have a bottle of your finest champagne sent to my suite at Mr. Conway’s expense. Bellman, my bags.”
Nellie turned away from the front desk, but Mr. Conway reached out and grabbed her arm. Nellie looked down at his hand and her eye twitched.
“Yes?” she said.
Mr. Conway leaned in toward Nellie.
“I trust there won’t be any issues during your stay?”
She looked up at Mr. Conway and smiled.
“Why, I suppose that would depend on you,” Nellie said and tried to pull her arm out of Mr. Conway’s grip.
“One night, ma’am,” Mr. Conway said. “One night and then I never want to see either of you again.”
“I know who you are, Conway,” Nellie said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. Conway said and released Nellie’s arm. “And I know who you are, as well.”
Nellie stared into Mr. Conway’s eyes and her jaw tensed.
“Brandt, baby, get up,” Nellie said and glanced over Mr. Conway’s shoulder. “We’re going to our suite.”
Nellie pushed Mr. Conway aside and walked toward Brandt. Mr. Conway’s hands shook as he ran his fingers through his hair and bowed his head.
“Get out of the way, Anthony,” James said, “Ginormica is coming.”
Anthony and Judah got up and stepped aside as Nellie walked over to Brandt. She put her hand under his chin and pulled his head up.
“Get up, baby,” Nellie said. “We’re going to our suite.”
“Can I lie down?”
“Yes, of course,” Nellie said and grabbed Brandt’s arm and lifted him off the couch. “You can do anything you want.”
“For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.”
Rudyard Kipling
Scott Williams led the way and Brandt and Nellie entered the corridor toward Room 165. We all followed closely behind and crashed into each other several times because Brandt kept stopping.
“Come on, baby,” Nellie said as she dragged Brandt down the hallway toward the room, “just a few more steps.”
“Where are we?” Brandt said as he stopped and looked at the ceiling.
“Baby, we’re at the hotel,” Nellie said.
Brandt ran his hand across the raised velvet wallpaper that lined the walls between the doors to the suites.
“I don’t want to be here,” Brandt said.
“You’re going to wish you stayed home soon enough, buddy,” Patrick said and clapped Brandt on the back.
Scott unlocked the door to Room 165 and we all squeezed our way past Brandt and Nellie to go inside. Nellie took the key from Scott’s hand.
“That will be all,” she said she as pulled Brandt into the room.
Scott Williams shook his head and backed out of the room and closed the door.
“Jesus Christ, Brandt,” Nellie said as she leaned him up against the wall like a cardboard cutout, “I’m getting really tired of this. This is supposed to be my vacation too.”
Brandt leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
“I didn’t want to come here,” he said. “I need to lie down.”
Nellie grabbed the suitcase and opened the bedroom door and walked inside.
“Ah, just as I remember,” she said and giggled.
“Fucking bitch,” James said.
We all walked into the bedroom and sat together on the long dresser opposite the bed.
“Where’s the recorder?” I said.
“Under the bed,” Patrick said.
“Should you turn it on?”
“No, not yet. The fucker I stole it from only had one tape.”
Nellie dragged Brandt inside the bedroom.
“Bed,” Brandt said like a caveman.
Brandt stumbled toward the bed and lay on his back. He looked up at the ceiling and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“Well, they obviously replaced the mattress,” Nellie said as she pulled the sheets aside, “but I’ll be goddamned if this doesn’t look like the same bedspread.”
Nellie sat down on the bed beside Brandt and untied the sash on his robe.
“Now, is my big bear going to fall asleep before we make boom-boom?” Nellie said and shook Brandt’s arm.
“Boom-boom?” Patrick said.
“Vomit,” I said.
Brandt opened his eyes and looked at Nellie.
“I need a shot,” he said.
“Bingo!” Judah said from behind Tara Holderman who sat in his lap.
“I don’t believe it,” I said.
Nellie put the suitcase on top of the bed and opened it.
“Peas and carrots,” Anthony said and whistled.
The suitcase was devoid of clothing, perhaps because Nellie wore it all. It contained two syringes with very long needles, a length of rubber cord, a large, tarnished tablespoon and a blue bath towel. Nellie pulled the towel out of the suitcase and unwrapped it. Inside the package were twenty glass bottles.
“Now do you believe it, Sophia?” Judah said.
“Now, I believe it, Judah.”
Nellie grabbed the spoon and one of the syringes and placed them on the bed by Brandt’s feet. She dropped the rubber cord in Brandt’s lap and placed one of the drug bottles on the bedside table.
“Now, Mommy is going to get her baby all fixed up,” Nellie said. “But first I have to go pee-pee really bad.”
“If she’s going to talk like this all day, I’m out of here,” James said.
“Like hell,” I said. “If we have to be subjected to this bullshit, so do you.”
Nellie took off her stole and fur coat and another scarf and a cardigan and a blazer and threw them on top of Andy Larabee who sat on the floor by the dresser and walked into the bathroom and slammed the door. Brandt turned his head and stared at the bottle on the dresser and smiled.
“I can’t get out!” Andy said as he struggled to get out from under Nellie’s clothes.
“Help him,” I said.
Jennie-Lynn ran over to Andy and pulled the clothes off Andy’s body.
“Fuck,” Andy said, “I couldn’t breathe!”
“He gets that language from you, you know,” James said to me.
“It’s moving!” Brandt said and sat up.
“Oh, fuck,” I said.
“It’s moving!” Brandt said and pointed at Nellie’s clothes.
“Jennie-Lynn, drop the coat,” I said.
Brandt looked at the pile of clothing and rubbed his eyes. He leaned back against the headboard and didn’t take his eyes off the pile.
“I saw it,” Brandt said. “I know I did.”
“Oh, let’s have some fun,” I said and hopped off the dresser and walked over to the bed. “Just a little?”
“Only while she’s in the bathroom,” James said.
I pushed the syringe slowly up the bed toward Brandt.
“Here comes the train,” I said, “into the station.”
Brandt looked away from the pile of clothing and glanced down at the bed.
“What the fuck?” he said as he watched the needle coming toward him. “It’s coming!”
We all laughed as Brandt struggled to sit up. He grabbed the syringe and the needle stabbed the palm of his hand.
“Help me!” Brandt said.
Nellie ran out of the bathroom in a beige bra and beige nylon briefs.
“Oh, fucking hell, get some clothes on, please?” Patrick said and shook his head.
“That is delicious,” Judah said. “I’ve always loved a hippy lass.”
“That,” Mary McDonald said, “is not hippy. That is—”
“Ginormica,” Mica Morrison said and laughed.
“What’s with all the screaming?
” Nellie said.
“I saw things,” Brandt said, “m-moving.”
“Jesus, Brandt,” Nellie said and sat on the bed next to him, “it’s not been that long.”
“I know what I saw,” Brandt said and closed his eyes.
“You don’t even know where you are,” Nellie said and grabbed the syringe.
We all watched Nellie insert the needle into a bottle of drugs and pull back on the plunger.
“That’s a big shot,” Judah said. “I hope he doesn’t croak.”
“Perry,” Patrick said, “crawl under his side of the bed and get ready to press the red button on the machine. Then push the microphone out a bit from under the bed and slide the red bar on the mic up. Got it?”
“Yes,” Perry said and got on the floor beside the bed. “But when do I do it?”
“When we tell you, okay?”
“I’m on it,” Perry said and crawled under the bed.
“What is she doing?” Andy said.
“She’s cooking the drugs,” Judah said. “You heat them up until they boil then you draw the liquid back into the syringe.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about this, Judah,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said and rested his chin on Tara Holderman’s shoulder, “I used to be quite the chemist.”
“Okay, where does Daddy want his shot?” Nellie said as she filled the syringe with the cooked liquid.
“Arm,” Brandt said.
“No, not yet,” Nellie said. “You’ll be out for the rest of the night.”
“Fine,” Brandt said and kicked off his slipper, “toe.”
Nellie held the syringe between her teeth and peeled off one of Brandt’s socks. His foot looked like he just pulled it out of a pot of boiling water.
“Man, he’s been doing this for a while,” Judah said.
“Spread your little piggies, little piggy,” Nellie said and rubbed Brandt’s foot.
“She’s keeping him sick so he won’t leave her,” I said.
Nellie stuck the needle in between two of Brandt’s toes and depressed the plunger slowly.
After a moment, Brandt’s face went completely slack and the back of his head slammed against the headboard. Nellie crawled onto the bed and lay on her side staring at Brandt. She ran her fingers through his hair and he made little grunting noises from his throat.
“This is really sad,” May Gaspar said.