ABANDONED

by Katie Berry

  Lively tried to sit up, but the carousel on which the bed seemed to be currently located started to revolve again, and he lay back down. With his forearm now draped across both eyes, he said aloud, “Man, I don’t even need to have something to drink to feel hungover around this place. Maybe I need to switch to water. I think Barq’s has too much bite.”

  A voice across the room said, “Water is where it’s at, big brother.”

  Lively jerked his arm away from his eyes and looked up with surprise to see his sister leaning in the doorway to the bedroom, watching him.

  “Minerva! What are you doing here? And how did you know I was up here? Despite feeling like he was on a Tilt-A-Whirl, Lively pushed himself all the way upright as his sister walked into the room. He propped several pillows up at his back, and the bedsheets fell onto his lap.

  “Well, first of all, I was contacted and made an offer I couldn’t refuse, just like you, I’d imagine.” Minerva entered the room, flipping the light switches on as she came through the doorway, causing Lively to shield his eyes from the glare.

  “This is true, but I would have done it for free. I’ve never wanted to solve anything more in my life than what happened here,” Lively said, adjusting the bedsheets around him.

  “Oh, I know that, Big Brother. And in answer to your second question, I looked in the key rack and the only key missing was the key to this suite, so I made like Sherlock Holmes, deduced my deductions, and here you are!” She gave him a brief smile and unwrapped her shoulder-length auburn hair from a multicoloured silk scarf that strained to contain its lush volume. Unslinging a small, purple backpack purse from her shoulder, she stuffed the scarf inside, then sat on the edge of the round bed near Lively, bouncing gently on the mattress for a moment as if to test it. She looked around the enormous bedroom and said, “I see you found yourself some modest accommodations.” She looked to the bedroom door, hanging slightly askew in its frame, a black boot print in its centre. “Did I miss all the fun here last night?”

  “Is that what it was?” Lively smiled somewhat cryptically and then said, “It was like that when I got here, honest.” He reached over and gave his sister a large hug saying, “It’s great to see you, Minerva. I’m really glad you could be here.”

  “Not a problem, Big Brother.” She hugged him back. “I’m almost as curious about this place as you, being inundated as I was with facts and figures about it when we were growing up, thanks to you!”

  “You’re right. It’s my Holy Grail — something I’ve wanted to investigate my entire life, and now I’m finally getting the chance! It’s like I’m at the Stanley Cup, sitting next to Wayne Gretzky, Gordie Howe and Tim Horton, and drinking a Moosehead beer!”

  “That does sound pretty exciting.” Minerva stood and walked to the window. “You do realise Gordie Howe and Tim Horton are dead, right?”

  “I know, but I don’t hold that against them.” Finally standing upright, Lively wrapped the bedsheet around himself like a toga and swayed slightly, still feeling out of sorts. He made his way over to the wingback chair where his clothes were located and sat with a sigh.

  Minerva whisked the heavy drapes open, bathing the room in rich, morning sunlight.

  Lively threw his forearm up to his face, shielding his eyes, saying, “Ouch!”

  Minerva noted his reaction. “Wow! What’s up with you? For a second, I thought you were going to hiss and dissolve into a pile of dust. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Slowly taking his arm away from his face, Lively said with a small frown, “I don’t know, for some reason this morning, I just feel out of it.”

  “Well, make sure you let me know when you get back into it, okay?” Minerva stood for a moment admiring the brilliant blue and white day outside. With her room-brightening accomplished, she wandered across to the bathroom door and peeked inside. “Good lord, that’s the ugliest bathtub I’ve ever seen. With claws like that, I hope they keep it on a leash. I wouldn’t want to see it roaming the halls around here at night!”

  “Tell me about it. But seriously, I want you to promise me something.”

  “What’s that? To never let you pick the flick on movie night? Don’t worry, I learned that a long time ago.” She shook her head sadly.

  “No, that you won’t take this place for granted. There’s something here that is very oppressive and dangerous. I don’t know how else to describe it, but I’m sure you’ve felt it.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” she said, then added, “Besides, I’ve already had my ‘Welcome to the Sinclair’ experience this morning, anyway.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  She turned back to the room and faced Lively, saying, “Let’s just say it was a very expansive experience.”

  “What? Do you mean to tell me you had a Limey?

  “Excuse me, a what?”

  “Locational Interdimensional Matter Expansion Experience. Or LIMEE. We call it a Limey for short in the biz.”

  “Oh, so you’re in the ‘biz’ now, are you? If you mean, did the lobby get really, really big? Then yes, I had a Limey.”

  “I’ve heard of that happening but never experienced it,” Lively said excitedly.

  “Well, let me tell you, it’s a very eye-closing experience,” Minerva responded, shaking her head slightly.

  “Eye-closing?” Lively asked, pulling on his socks. “What do you mean?”

  “When a room is expanding around you at a hundred kilometres an hour, it can be very disorienting. Trust me, you need to close your eyes. At least, that’s what I did. Then I counted to ten.”

  “And?”

  “And here I am!” Minerva said, doing a quick pirouette.

  “I’m serious, Sis, I don’t want to lose you to whatever happened to those people in the ballroom.” Lively had managed to get his underpants on beneath the bedsheet and was currently working on pulling up his pants.

  “It’s nice to know you’re serious about some things.” Minerva looked at her brother’s no-nonsense expression and then said, “Okay, fine. I promise to pay close attention and not try anything risky.”

  “Thank you. And if you want to do a reading, don’t do it yourself, that’s all I’m asking. Make sure I’m with you, please. I want to be there to pull you back if things get too intense.” Lively pulled his pants up the rest of the way and stood, the bedsheet dropping to the floor. He zipped his fly and grabbed for his shirt.

  “Yes, sir,” Minerva said, giving a weak salute, a small smile playing across the corners of her scarlet-tinted lips. She looked at her brother as he buttoned his shirt. As always, she was impressed with his finely-honed physique. Never a man to work out religiously, he still did his fair share, and it showed. Despite his pushing forty years old, he was in as good a shape as any man half his age. With his dark blond hair, square jaw and muscular chest, her brother had turned the heads of many people on both sides of the gender spectrum over the years.

  Leaving her brother to finish dressing, she wandered back into the main sitting area of the suite, saying, “That’s why I stopped over in Vancouver to wait out the storm. I’m not the kind to drive through raging blizzards to get someplace that isn’t going anywhere, just to arrive a few hours earlier.

  Lively called out as he shrugged into his bomber jacket, “Yeah, it was slow-going on the way up here last night, that’s for sure.” Taking his courier bag from the dresser next to the suitcase, he slung it over one shoulder and joined his sister in the living area.

  Colourful packaging drew Minerva’s attention, and she moved to the dusty snack rack near the bar. “By the time I got up here, the highways were all plowed down to some nice hard compact, so I was able to let my Alpina open up her injectors. I bet I made it here in half the time that you did.” She picked up a bag of Old Dutch Ripple Chips from the dusty snack rack and tore it open, sniffing the contents delicately for a moment. Wrinkling her nose, a small, “Eww,” escaped her lips.

  “So, you brought your Winter Warri
or with you, did you?”

  “Of course! After what I spent, she goes everywhere with me!”

  “I’ll bet.” Lively grinned and nodded slightly, then said, “And now for something completely different, what’s for breakfast? I am so hungry! I haven’t really eaten since lunch yesterday.”

  “Well, no wonder you’re feeling dizzy and light-headed, you big silly!” She shook her head, hands on her hips.

  “I suppose you’re right. It might not have been the Barq’s bite after all. Well, that is good news since I didn’t want to give up my brew. However, I remembered to bring some of my MREs with me if you’re interested. They’re out in the 4Runner, though, can you give me a hand to bring them inside?”

  “Sure. How many did you bring?”

  “I brought two cases of US Military-grade MREs and a couple of cases of Russian IRP mountain rations — those are the good ones with the extra chocolate!” Lively added excitedly.

  Minerva picked up a King Don and rapped it loudly on the edge of the wire rack for a moment. “Sounds intriguing, but I don’t know, they’ve got some good solid-looking food around here.”

  “This is true. But I thought it would be best to bring something up here since I presumed the kitchen wouldn’t be open.” His stomach barked at the mention of open and kitchen in the same sentence. “Plus, these have the meal heaters in them, so we get hot food.”

  “My, you are the thoughtful one. And I’m sure they cover the full spectrum of nutrients a growing boy like you would need.” After a slight pause, she continued, “You said you remembered to bring ‘some’ of your MREs a moment ago. Please tell me those four cases are the only ones you bought?”

  Lively grinned sheepishly at his sister but said nothing.

  “You stocked up?” Minerva asked disbelievingly. She unwrapped a Four-Flavour bar and saw the only flavour now available was stale, age-bloomed chocolate. She dropped it back on the rack and dusted her fingers, a small grimace on her face.

  “Hey,” Lively said defensively, I can have meatloaf any time I want now!”

  Minerva shook her head and said, “A million great restaurants in Vancouver and my brother has been eating survival rations.” As she spoke, she slung her small, purple bag over one shoulder, then moved toward the door.

  In a final futile attempt at justification for his purchase, Lively said, “There are some really tasty entrees with over twelve different menus to choose from, you know. Plus, I had plenty of space in my spare room to boot.”

  Now standing in the doorway, Minerva asked, “Spare room? How many MREs did you buy?”

  “Well, I got a really good deal if I bought them by the pallet.” He smiled weakly.

  “Sad, just sad.” She reached around to the other side of the doorway to the hall, saying, “But that being said, I figured about the same as you, and just in case, I brought a few things of my own along.” With a grunt, she dropped a sizeable backpack onto the floor near Lively’s feet.

  “A few things?”

  “A good Scout is always prepared.” Minerva held her right hand to her temple in the traditional three-fingered Scout salute.

  “You were never a Scout.”

  “No, but I dated a Scoutmaster several years ago so that almost counts.”

  Lively shook his head and exited the suite. He stood outside the door and said, “Well, let’s get my MREs and then we can have a hot meal in the dining room. Once we’re there, you can have a chance to break open the treats in your rucksack, Brunhilda. Here, let me give you a hand.” Lively hefted Minerva’s backpack and threw it over the shoulder opposite his courier bag, saying, “Holy crap! What do you have in here? It feels like you’re ready for the apocalypse!” He began moving slowly down the hallway, pretending to stagger slightly as if under a laborious weight.

  Trailing behind Lively, Minerva stuck her tongue out at his back and commented, “Only nuts and berries, of course.” As the royal suite receded behind them, she said, “But thanks for playing bellhop, Big Brother. I didn’t feel like carrying that pack back down these stairs again.”

  “You’re welcome. But why didn’t you leave it in the lobby?”

  “Well, after my little Limey experience, I wasn’t sure if it would still be there when I got back. I was just happy to see things back to normal when I opened my eyes again. Or as normal as things get around here, at least.”

  “Good point.”

  Looking at the closed doors around them as they walked, Minerva asked, “Since you gave yourself the best room in the house, I hope there’s something left for me?” They were now about halfway along the hall and approaching a small sitting area.

  “I think there’s a couple of half-decent rooms left around here. After breakfast, I can talk to the front desk for you, if you like.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely, Big Brother. It’s nice to see you have such pull around here!”

  “It’s true. I’m in the book, don’t you know,” Lively stated enigmatically. “But, if you really like the royal suite, I could let you sleep there, and I could switch rooms. I really don’t mind.”

  “That’s okay, I prefer something a little more regular person-sized, and not quite as grand as your digs, I think.” Minerva’s tummy rumbled as they walked down the corridor toward the stairs, and she quickly added, “Well thanks a lot. With all of your talk about food, now I’m ravenous!”

  “That’s not why. It’s driving a BMW at the speed of sound that does that to a person,” Lively said with a smile.

  Smiling herself, Minerva gave her brother a poke in the ribs for his comment, saying, “I told you I don’t speed, I drive fast.” They had arrived at the top of the third-floor staircase.

  “Uh-huh,” Lively shook his head, then looked down the stairs into the cavernous lobby. He flashed back to the night before, adrenaline beginning to course through his veins as he thought of the encounter.

  “Over breakfast, remind me to tell you about my new special friend from last night.”

  “Special friend?” Minerva queried, tilting her head. “Is that what you’re calling it now?” She glanced toward Lively’s belt buckle. “I don’t need every little detail, you know.”

  Lively noted the direction of her gaze and said, “Ho, ho, very funny. But regarding my friend, trust me, you’ll know him if you meet him.”

  They descended the grand staircase toward the lobby, taking in the decor and architecture as they went. “This staircase looks like it was ripped directly from the Titanic, doesn’t it?” Lively asked.

  Minerva nodded in agreement, admiring the beautiful rosewood inlay that accented the deep oak balustrades and railings of the grand staircase. Running along one wall as they descended, an art gallery of sorts showed various paintings inspired by the natural beauty that surrounded the hotel.

  But there was one painting that particularly caught Minerva’s attention, the massive oil painting over the mezzanine. “This one is amazing. I saw it on the way upstairs.”

  “Called it already.”

  “What?”

  “As soon as I saw it last night, I knew it would be right up your alley, what with your love of Waldo and all.”

  Looking closer, Minerva could see that in some of the rooms the artist had painted small scenes, or vignettes, depicting patrons of the resort going about their business both inside the hotel and on the grounds that surrounded it. Through one window, larger than the rest, she could see the grand ballroom. Inside, painted in exquisite detail, were dozens of couples dancing to unheard music. Outside on the grounds, several people were depicted playing croquet and sunning themselves near the pool. A small boy and his dog played fetch with a stick next to a dark and forbidding-looking forest.

  “Come on, Rembrandt, this isn’t the Louvre,” Lively said, pulling at the furry sleeve of Minerva’s jacket. She ignored him, enraptured by the painting in front of her. Lively spoke again, “Snap out of it, kid! Let’s go get some grub.”

  No longer looking at the painting, b
ut still Ignoring Lively, her nose in the air, Minerva said, “What is that smell? If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I smelled toast.”

  Lively sniffed but still couldn’t smell anything except dust from the circular bed’s sheets. Minerva’s sense of smell was remarkable, however, and he didn’t doubt that she smelled what she said she smelled. But instead, since it was his duty as a big brother, he said, “You know what they say about smelling burnt toast. Maybe it’s a brain tumour?”

  “It’s not a tumour!” Minerva said, doing her best to sound like a certain Austrian preschool police officer.

  Lively laughed, saying, “I believe you.” He took a deep breath and said, “But now that you mention it, you’re right, I can smell it, too.”