The Haunting of Anna McAlister

by Jerome Harrison

  Anna sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide open and afraid. “Where am I? What happened?”

  “You fainted,” Tom put his arm around her. “We’re at the hotel, remember? You passed out almost as soon as we walked in.

  “It was probably the travel and the heat,” the doctor dabbed his sweating brow with a handkerchief which he returned to the inside pocket of his suit coat. “Paris is rarely this hot this time of the year. The forecast says it will be in the 90’s Fahrenheit for at least the rest of this week. Eh, se la vie.”

  The doctor felt Anna’s forehead and took her pulse one last time. “I think you are fine. As I said, I am sure it was the weather and exhaustion from the trip. Not to worry. Perhaps you should rest until tomorrow. If you have any more difficulties, which I very much doubt, contact the concierge and he will be able to find me.”

  Anna thanked the doctor before he left, but did not share his optimism. She was quite sure her difficulties were just beginning.

  It was hot, very hot. The hotel air conditioning wasn’t designed to deal with this type of heat. The best it could do was make the room temperature somewhat bearable. Tom laughed when Anna described the air conditioning as being “subtle.”

  “Boy, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing Anna a glass of cold water. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Me too,” Anna said, ran the cool glass across her forehead. “Tom, did anything happen just before I fainted. You know, in the lobby, with the bellhop?’

  “That’s funny that you should mention him,” Tom got himself a glass of water. “Did you know that guy, or something?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Well, the way you looked at him. It was like you recognized him. Just before you fainted you had this look in your eye, as if he was some long lost friend. You called him Pierre and said something in French.”

  “What did I say?”

  “That’s what’s so weird. The bellhop said you told him to take your parcels to your suite and to expect more later. Does that make any sense?”

  “No,” Anna answered, although somewhere deep inside her soul she knew that it did, at least it did when those words were first spoken to a bellhop named Pierre in the Hotel Baronette almost 100 years earlier.

  Anna refused to follow Tom’s suggestions, or the doctor’s advice. Rest was the last thing she wanted to do. She was finally where she needed to be. Where they wanted her to be. Anna jumped up to her feet. “Let’s explore.”

  Anna led Tom out the door and into the hallway. He turned left and started to walk toward the elevator. “No,” she said. “It’s this way.”

  Anna moved with complete self-assurance. With Tom trailing by several feet, she walked around three corners and to the end of a narrow, poorly lit corridor. The area was clearly marked “employees only”, but the thought of stopping never entered Anna’s mind.

  Without even the slightest hesitation, Anna opened a swinging door which revealed a tightly spiraling staircase leading both up and down from their position. There appeared to be small lights around each curve, which dimly illuminated the staircase and filled it with shadows.

  “Are you sure we should do this?” Tom stopped.

  Anna didn’t listen, but just started walking down. Anna knew exactly where she was going, although she had no idea how she might have acquired the knowledge. Still, walking down this stairway was as familiar as the steps in her own house.

  After she had fainted, the hotel employees had carried her to a room on the second floor. As she and Tom now circled down to the first floor, Anna turned and put her right index finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet.

  Tom peeked through a small window on the door to the first floor and saw the hotel’s kitchen. Several chefs and their helpers were busy preparing that evening’s meal.

  There were no lights below that landing and the stairway turned pitch black. Anna didn’t seem to notice.

  “Anna,” Tom whispered, carefully feeling for each step in the darkness. I can’t see a thing.”

  “It’s okay. Follow me.”

  “We’re going to break our . . .”

  Before Tom could fully express his concern, the stairwell filled with light from below. Anna had opened a door, stepped through and turned on the lights.

  When Anna had passed the first floor, she actually walked faster down the steps. She wasn’t worried that she couldn’t see a thing. She counted exactly 13 steps, stopped, turned to her right and opened the door she knew would be there. Anna stepped inside a room and had no trouble finding the light switch. When her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she saw that she was standing in the Hotel Baronette’s Grand Ballroom.

  When Tom walked in a moment later, he found Anna waltzing across the dance floor.

  The light in the ballroom came from fourteen grand crystal chandeliers that hung in two rows from a ceiling that was at least two stories high. The ceiling itself was white and edged with gold filigree. The room was at least 100 feet long and half that wide. The walls were lined with alternating panels of white marble and floor to ceiling mirrors.

  As Anna spun, she saw the light from a thousand crystal prisms reflected in each mirror. She felt as if she were floating. She embraced many partners, feeling their bodies press against hers. She smelled their scents. She was being caressed. She was lost. She was enraptured. She was both captive and in command.

  “Come on Anna. We better leave. We don’t want to get thrown out of the hotel on the first night.” Tom stopped her dancing by grabbing her shoulders from behind.

  Anna slowly turned and faced Tom, who gasped and quickly backed away. Anna’s blue eyes now sparkled a dark emerald green. The light danced off them and Anna smiled seductively.

  “Anna?” Tom couldn’t swallow. A moment later he watched as her eyes changed back to their original color.

  “Great room, huh?” she said. “But we better leave. We don’t want to get thrown out of the hotel on the first night.”

  “Didn’t I just say that?” Tom was beginning to doubt both his eyesight and Anna’s sanity.

  “No, I did,” Anna took Tom’s hand in hers and led him across the ballroom toward a large door that was cut into one of the mirrors. It stood between two marble panels and, when closed as it was now, was almost invisible to the naked eye. Anna, with Tom in tow, walked directly to it.

  “Shouldn’t we go back the way we came down?” Tom asked.

  “No,” Anna shook her head. “That’s for the servants,” she giggled. “And for anyone else who needs to sneak around,” she whispered.

  In Anna’s mind she saw various costumed dancers waltzing over to the servant’s entrance. They would carefully look around the room before disappearing up those spiraling stairs for a secret liaison.

  Many times couples would complete their task right on the stairway. The waiters and servants would politely and discreetly step around them. When sufficient wine had been consumed, they were sometimes asked, or ordered to join in. Certain male and female servants, those with interesting or impressive physical attributes or talents were most in demand.

  As she and Tom walked, Anna remembered, or imagined watching a servant girl servicing a man with her mouth. He held her head and thrust his hips until he groaned and collapsed back on the steps. The girl stayed in place until he was soft and laughing. The man slapped her face and the girl ran away. Now Anna heard a woman’s laughter join the man’s.

  The image was gone almost as quickly as it came. It was replaced by another. Anna could see a woman straddling a waiter who sat on the steps with this trousers down around his ankles. She reached behind her and guided his enormous member into her lowering body. As the scene unfolded in Anna’s mind she actually felt first the lips and then the walls of her vagina being stretched and penetrated. She gasped and fell to her knees, which she spread wide apart on the ballroom floor.

  “Anna, are you all right?” Tom stepped to her side.

  Anna felt t
he withdrawal. She moaned at the loss.

  “Anna?”

  “I’m okay,” she said almost completely out of breath. “Help me up.”

  Anna’s legs felt weak when, with Tom’s assistance, she rose to her feet.

  “Maybe we should go back to the room and rest for awhile,” Tom said.

  Anna felt unusually tired, and very sore. “Okay, we can play more later.”

  She led Tom up a large straight marble staircase to the main lobby. No one saw them move quickly from the steps to the elevator. Once inside, Anna pushed 5.

  “No, were not on 5.” Tom reached around Anna and pushed 2. “We’re in 201.”

  “What?” Anna seemed surprised. “That’s not right at all.”

  Anna stopped the elevator door with her hands and pushed it open. She marched to the front desk. “Pardon,” she said. “We need to change rooms.”

  “Is there a problem?” One of the hotel managers, the one who had been on duty when Anna had fainted, walked out of a small door that led to a tiny room behind the desk. “Are you feeling,” the man searched for the right word in English, “Okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. We just need to change rooms. We want to be in room 531, s’il vous plait.”

  The manager and the two clerks who had been manning the front desk glanced at each other briefly. The look lasted only a moment, but Anna could clearly see a spark of fear in their eyes.

  “Mademoiselle,” the manager said curtly. “There is no room 531.” He was lying and he wasn’t very good at it.

  “Of course there is,” Anna responded without a hint of emotion. “It’s in the front and has a perfect view of the carousel in the park across the street. Am I right?”

  Again, the three hotel employees shared their emotions through their eyes. “Please step this way,” the manager moved around the desk and ushered Tom and Anna into a plush lounge area just off the bar. It was full of red velvet overstuffed chairs and small couches. A grand piano filled one corner of the room, which featured oil paintings on its walls and statues of nude men and women embracing as if frozen in time.

  “Sit, please.” The manager motioned for Anna and Tom to have a seat on a couch.

  Tom sat all the way back and crossed his legs, while Anna stayed on the edge of the couch’s cushions. The manager sat across from the two guests. “Louie,” he called to the bartender. “Champagne for our guests. Vite. . .quickly.”

  “That really is not necessary,” Anna said.

  “Of course it is necessary,” the manger smiled. “This is Paris.”

  Louie quickly delivered the bottle of Champagne in a sterling silver ice bucket. Tom looked up at him, “California, I hope?” he joked.

  No one laughed.

  “Ah, sorry about that,’ Tom grimaced. “Jet lag.”

  Louie popped the cork and served the Champagne. The paper-thin crystal glasses reflected the light in such a way that they looked like delicate bubbles shimmering in the air.

  “Now. . .” the manager said. “. . . regarding room 531.”

  When he said the number, Anna saw a surprised look cross Louie’s face. He looked up at the manager for just a moment, almost causing him to overfill Anna’s glass.

  “Why do you ask about this room?” the manager asked, trying to hide the tension in his voice.

  “It’s important that we stay there.”

  The manager looked at Tom who shrugged his shoulders in an I have no idea what she’s talking about gesture.

  “I must apologize for my earlier statement, although to a degree it was true.” The manager spoke quickly. “Room 531 is not available for guests. In fact it has not been available for, perhaps, 30 years or more.” He looked at Louie, “Oui?”

  “Oui,” Louie said, and quickly returned to the bar.

  “That room is locked and closed to all. So, while the room does in fact exist, it is never used.”

  “Why not?” Tom finished his glass of Champaign.

  “That is hotel business.”

  The manager rose from the couch. He turned to leave, but stopped. “May I ask you one question?” He looked at Anna.

  “Of course.”

  “How did you know about the carousel in the park. It hasn’t been there in many, many years.”

  “I saw a picture of it once,” Anna lied much better than he did.

  “I’ve never seen such a photograph,” the manager said. When Anna and Tom said nothing, he decided to accept the lie rather than pursue the truth. “Forget about 531,” he said as he left. “And enjoy Paris.”

  When the manager disappeared back into his little room behind the front desk and closed the door, Tom touched Anna on the shoulder. When he did, she jumped. “So, exactly what is so important about room 531?”

  “It’s where she was murdered,” Anna whispered.

  “How do you know that? And don’t tell me you saw a picture.”

  “No, no picture. I just know it.” Anna shook her head. She too wished she knew where this sudden influx of knowledge was coming from. “I just do.”

  Louie returned to refill their glasses. “Excuse me,” Anna said. “I saw how you looked when the manager mentioned room 531. Can you help us?”

  “In what way?” Louie asked.

  “Do you know anything, anything at all about the history of that room? Was someone mur. . .”

  Louie held up his hand and turned his head away to stop Anna from finishing her sentence. He looked around the lobby and seemed sad. “Mademoiselle,” he said. “There are times when history is best left undisturbed.”

  Chapter 15

  Anna dreamed that she couldn’t breathe. When she woke up the dream continued.

  Earlier that night, Anna had again tried to convince the manager to move them to room 531. She begged, she pleaded, she even bribed, but he wouldn’t budge. Finally she demanded to speak to the owner of the hotel. At that point the manager suggested they might be better served at another, more American, hotel.

  Having lost the battle, Anna quickly changed tactics in hopes of salvaging the war. “I’m so sorry for being unreasonable,” Anna tried an old trick that had always worked with her dad, and later with boys and men. She batted her eyes and gave her nose a wrinkle. “It must be the heat and the travel. Please forgive my behavior. It was inexcusable.”

  The manager agreed wholeheartedly with Anna’s new position. He eventually, although somewhat reluctantly, accepted her apology. Room 201 would have to do . . . for now.

  * * *

  Hours later, Anna sat up naked in bed, gasping for air. She noticed that the light blanket she and Tom had used had been thrown across the room. Just as well, she thought. The heat was suffocating.

  Anna wiped a drop of sweat away from the tip of her nose. She remembered the doctor’s words, “Paris is rarely this hot. . .se la vie.”

  Anna pushed against Tom’s bare hairy bottom, hoping to wake him. Instead, he just rolled onto his back, smacked his lips and started to snore.

  “Shit head!” Anna’s surprising anger made it easier to breathe. She got up and walked to the bathroom. She splashed cold water onto her face, neck and chest. It felt wonderful when the drops ran down her stomach before nestling in her pubic hair.

  Anna took a deep breath, and splashed again. Feeling much better, she tried to turn on the light, but the bathroom remained dark. She quickly flicked the switch on and off several times. “Great. Just what I need.”

  Anna stepped into the sweltering bedroom. She immediately noticed that the small air conditioning vent was silent and the air was still.

  “Okay, do it.” Anna challenged the shadows that surrounded her. She stood silently

  for a moment, embraced by the heat and staring into the darkness. “If you’re going to do it . . . do it now.”

  Anna gritted her teeth and waited for something to happen, for the terror to begin again. It didn’t. At least not just then.

  When she felt nothing but the heat, she smiled and breathed a sigh o
f relief. “Fine. Then leave me alone.”

  Anna looked out the window and saw that no lights were on in any of the buildings that she could see, and even the street lights were out.

  “Good,” Anna rubbed her hands together. “Time to play the ugly American.” She picked up the telephone and called the lobby to find out what was going on with the power.

  “I am sorry,” the night clerk apologized in broken English. Anna only wished her broken French was a tenth as good. “There has been a, how do you say, a light out?”

  “Black out?”

  “Oui. It happens. Power should return soon. Just do as the rest and go back to sleep.”

  “In this heat?” Anna whined. “Without air conditioning?” Anna over-acted on the whine, thinking the desk clerk would find in amusing. He didn’t.

  “Perhaps you could try opening the window. There is a lovely breeze tonight off the Seine. Bonne nuit, Mademoiselle.” The desk clerk hung up the phone.

  “Yeah, yeah goodnight,” Anna said to no one and hung up the phone.

  Taking the clerk’s advice, Anna opened the window. When she did the Parisian night air flooded in, followed by the soft sounds of a woman’s rhythmic moans of passion.

  “I guess there are other people who can’t sleep,” Anna giggled as the women’s sounds became more urgent and intense.

  Anna looked at Tom. He was still lying on his back, but Anna no longer focused on his snoring. Because of the heat, he had also decided to sleep in the nude. With the blanket gone, Anna could clearly make out his full form in the moonlit room.

  The moans from some other room and woman continued. Anna’s eyes fixed on Tom’s chest, legs, and finally came to rest on his semi-erect penis. It lay draped over to the right, as was its habit.

  The woman’s moans became screams of pure pleasure and Anna moved onto the bed. She took Tom’s cock in her hand. “Time to get up.”

  Anna lowered her head and opened her mouth. She licked the tip of Tom’s suddenly growing member and was about to engulf its length when a gentle knocking at the door to their room caused her to snap her jaws shut and jump up from the bed.