Brimstone

by Tamara Thorne

  “Guess the ghost didn’t like the quake.” Mike looked at his watch. “Three a.m. I’ve gotta be back here at six. I’m just going to put out-of-order signs on the elevator landings and go back to bed.”

  “Go home and get some sleep,” Steve told him. “I’ll do it.”

  “You’re a peach, you know that?”

  “I am.”

  “Thanks, man. See you in the morning.”

  12

  Donkeys and Other Beasts of Burden

  Holly awoke to sunlight streaming through the slats of the ivory Venetian blinds, and for a moment, she didn’t know where she was. Her bed was in the wrong place, the curtains were the wrong color. Then her mind cleared and she remembered: The Brimstone Grand!

  She remembered that the cat had come back and slept with her, but there was no sign of it now. Eagerly, she got out of bed and searched everywhere, calling kitty, kitty, kitty. But there was no cat. I guess maybe it was a dream, after all.

  But a good dream, not like the nightmares full of dark hallways bathed in flame-blue and etched with red pulsing veins. The eyes glowing in the darkness, coming at her; the voice scraping through her brain. In the nightmare, she’d run. “Something got loose,” she murmured. Holly strained now to recall more even as those images began to fade.

  She rose and stretched, recalling the day’s plan to check out the town with Becky Granger. Dreams forgotten, Holly dressed in blue shorts, her favorite polka dot tank top, and her worn-out tennis shoes. After pulling her hair into a ponytail, she opened the French door and walked out on the balcony. The morning breeze, still cool, felt good. A few people were sitting in chairs outside their rooms but thankfully, they were far away.

  It was sunny and quiet at eight in the morning. Holly leaned on the black wrought iron railing and stared out at Brimstone. The center of town lay at the bottom of the surrounding hills. Narrow roads, a few asphalt, most unpaved, ribboned up and down and back and forth among buildings large and small dotting the hillsides. A huge pit from back when strip mining was in full swing lay just west of the main part of town and she could see houses and a church edging it.

  Leaning as far as she could over the railing, Holly squinted almost due west and spotted the big wooden cross she’d seen yesterday on the way up. That has to be that cemetery! She hoped Becky liked cemeteries half as much as she liked horses.

  Closing her eyes, Holly enjoyed the morning breeze’s kiss on her cheek and let the high desert speak to her. Birds called, another car went by out on the highway, and somewhere below, a donkey brayed. It was like living in the Wild West. She smiled to herself and turned around to peer up at the hotel, then felt a dizzying wave of recognition. This is the building from my nightmares!

  Though the dreams had been all but forgotten, her stomach dipped like she was riding a roller coaster and she forced herself to turn, to look back down toward town. She tried to see the Humble Station where her newfound cousin, Adeline, was probably just opening for business. She couldn’t - there were too many bushes and trees cutting off her view of the road.

  Stomach growling, Holly went back inside and opened the round-shouldered refrigerator in her kitchenette. It was chilled but empty. Holly closed the drapes, grabbed her key and tiptoed out of the room, not wanting Cherry to hear her.

  As she approached the elevator, the unnumbered door across from it opened and that yucky bellhop from yesterday came out, dressed in a blue uniform. He had a puffy oval face with bags under his washed-out eyes and a big hawk nose like that actor from Dr. Strangelove.

  “Hello, Miss Devine.” He tipped his cap to reveal lank colorless hair that needed combing. He wet his flat rubbery lips and smiled.

  “I’m Miss Tremayne, not Devine.” She caught a glimpse of an unmade bed in the room behind him. Stale tobacco smells wafted out like bad breath. He must live there.

  “Miss Tremayne, then,” he corrected as he joined her at the elevator. “I would think you’d rather use Devine.” This time his smile revealed little corn kernel teeth.

  Holly ignored him, staring instead at his name tag. It said “Arthur Meeks.”

  The elevator dinged and they stepped inside. Meeks pulled the brass accordion door shut then pressed a button to close the main door. They began moving. “Why don’t you like Devine? Do you think it’s a funny name?”

  “No.” She finally looked at him. His eyes were moving up and down again, like he was examining her. She didn’t like it, not one bit. “It’s not a funny name, but it’s an actress name to me, perfect for Miss Delilah and my mother. I don’t want to be an actress.”

  The elevator opened in the lobby foyer and Meeks put his hand on the accordion door handle but didn’t open it. “What do you want to be when you grow up, Miss Tremayne? Or may I call you Holly?”

  She wanted to be a forest ranger or a painter or a sculptor, maybe all three. She wanted to be a race car driver, a dolphin scientist, an author, and maybe an astronaut, too. She looked him in the eye. “Miss Tremayne. And I want to be a police officer so I can put bad guys in jail.”

  He chuckled and wheezed. “A little girl who wants to be a cop? They’ll make you a meter maid.”

  “Not me. I’m going to be a real cop and arrest bad guys.” Like you. She made herself stare at him so that he would stop looking at her and it finally worked. He opened the gate and gave a little bow. “Ladies first.”

  She tore out of the elevator and went straight to the desk. “Hi, Meredith!”

  “Hey there. How’d the drape work out?”

  “You can’t even tell there’s a door in the room. Thanks for helping me!”

  “You’re very welcome. Did you sleep well?”

  Holly nodded. “I think there was a cat in my room, though. I heard meows and then she jumped on my bed, and licked my nose, but she must have gotten out again because I looked everywhere. Does a cat live here? Or maybe she needs a home ...”

  Meredith smiled. “Holly, I believe you’ve met Miss Annie Patches! She’s a ghost kitty who’s supposed to haunt the fourth floor. She’s very nice. Sometimes our guests hear her.”

  “Did she die here?”

  “She lived a long life here and I guess she decided to stay on after she passed. The story is that she’s a little calico that belonged to a live-in nurse back when this place was a hospital. She probably lived in your room or the one next to it. And don’t worry, Miss Annie Patches is sweet and harmless.”

  “A ghost cat?” Holly tried to look calm, but she wanted to jump for joy.

  “Yes. I believe some of our maids have even encountered her.”

  “I hope she decides to stay with me.”

  “Well, it sure sounds like she likes you - nobody’s ever reported getting a kitty kiss from her before. And I’m glad you like her!” Meredith paused. “Did you start your scary novel last night?”

  “No. I was looking at a book about Brimstone and I fell asleep.”

  Meredith nodded. “Have you seen your mom this morning?”

  “I heard her come in really late, so I don’t think she’ll be down for a while. She hates mornings.” Holly basked in Meredith’s gentle smile.

  “Arthur?” Meredith said, looking up. “May I help you?”

  The bellhop was standing in the foyer arch. “There’s no such things as ghost cats.” He made an ugly face. “You shouldn’t tell a little girl scary stories like that.”

  “And you shouldn’t eavesdrop, Arthur.” Meredith gave him a look like he was a school kid in trouble.

  Holly looked at him. He was pale. She smiled. “I’m not afraid of ghosts. Are you?”

  The bellhop, milk-white, glared at her. “They ain’t real. Nothing to be scared of. Ghost cat. If I saw it, I’d stomp it.”

  Holly watched him, realizing the man was terrified of something.

  “Is there anything else, Arthur?” Meredith asked.

  His eyes darted. “Got any bags to take upstairs?”

  “No, no one has checked in yet this morn
ing. Perhaps you could polish the luggage carts if you have no other duties right now. They’re covered with fingerprints.”

  “I’ll get to it after I make my rounds.” He winked at Holly. She ignored him.

  Meredith raised an eyebrow, but nodded. Arthur Meeks returned to the elevator. As soon as it began rising, she said, “Arthur is peculiar.”

  Holly nodded. “I feel like I should feel sorry for him - my mother gave him a really hard time - but, well, I don’t like him. Not a bit. I don’t like anybody who’d hurt a cat. Even a ghost cat.”

  “I know. There’s just something about him. Best to keep your distance, Holly.”

  “I will.” She hesitated. “But it’s okay to be alone with Steve, right?”

  Meredith laughed. “Yes. If you can’t sleep and want to come down here and talk, I know he’d enjoy that. He’s fond of history and ghost stories, just like you.” She paused. “So, are you on your way to see Becky?”

  “Pretty soon, but I want some breakfast first. There’s nothing in my refrigerator yet.”

  “I’ll pick you up some basics this afternoon, but meanwhile, you can either go help yourself to milk and cereal at my house or you can go to the restaurant and eat in the employee lunch room. It’s nice. Oh, here comes Peg.”

  The stocky middle-aged woman with tortoiseshell teacher’s glasses riding her nose and her hair in a stiff black beehive, opened the front door, bringing with her the powdery scent of old lady perfume and stale tobacco.

  “Peg Moran, this is Holly Tremayne, Miss Delilah’s granddaughter. You two didn’t quite get a chance to meet yesterday what with the earthquake and all. Peg’s our assistant manager.”

  “Hi Miss Moran,” Holly said, wondering just how many tiny paisleys were printed on the woman’s dress.

  “Call me Peg. We’re informal around here, aren’t we, Meredith?”

  “We are.”

  “How do you like it here so far, Holly?”

  “I like it a lot, I think.”

  “Holly hasn’t had a chance to see much yet,” Meredith explained.

  “Oh, you have so many fun places to visit. They have donkey rides over at Sheldon’s Ghost Town. Becky just loves that, doesn’t she, Meredith?”

  “Yes, she does.”

  “Do you like to ride?” asked Peg.

  “Horses? No, I never have.”

  “If you go to Sheldon’s with Becky, she’s going to insist on riding.”

  “How much does it cost? Miss Delilah is giving me a job, but I won’t have any money for things like that until she pays me.”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Meredith assured her. “Becky’s their unofficial donkey groomer so she and her friends ride for free.”

  “Really?” Holly felt a lot better. She’d saved twenty dollars over six months - all tucked away in her Friar Tuck bank - by cleaning a neighbor’s apartment in Van Nuys, and she didn’t want to let a penny of it go until she had a new source of income. Cherry would give her a quarter or fifty cents if she had it, but she rarely did. “I think it would be fun to ride a donkey sometime.” She looked from Meredith to Peg. “But I really want to see the cemetery!” She paused. “It’s where the big cross is, right?”

  Peg chuckled. “Yes, but whyever would you want to go to a cemetery, young lady?”

  “I love them. I like to read the gravestones and make up stories about the people. It’s fun.”

  “You sound like a budding writer.” Meredith smiled. “It’s the old miners’ cemetery. There won’t be much to read - most of the stones are pretty worn down - but it’s pretty scenic in a spooky sort of way.” She paused. “You’ll have to work hard to talk Becky into going.”

  “Going where?” Becky Granger asked as she came through the door.

  “I want to see the cemetery, do you? And that haunted house your brother talked about.” Oops. Holly glanced at Meredith and Peg, and quickly added, “Just the outside. I know it’s too dangerous to go inside.”

  Becky’s hair was in two long blond pigtails and she curled the end of one around her finger. “Eww, no, it’s too creepy.”

  “Maybe Sheldon will let you ride the donkeys up there on a quiet day,” Meredith said.

  “Really?” Becky seemed interested.

  “Probably, though it’s plenty close to just walk.”

  Becky looked worried.

  “I’ll go by myself,” Holly said. “I don’t mind. My mom used to drop me off at Hollywood Memorial Park sometimes, just to walk around. There are a lot of movie stars buried there, like Rudolph Valentino and Tyrone Power and Jayne Mansfield.”

  “Jayne Mansfield!” Becky said. “She got her head cut off in a car accident! She’s there? You saw her grave?”

  Holly nodded. “It’s pretty. It’s sort of a big heart. There are always lots of flowers on it.” Because her mother was so interested in Mansfield, Holly knew the actress hadn’t really been decapitated, but decided not to spoil the fun with the truth. Instead, she looked to Meredith. “Are there any famous outlaws buried here?”

  “Not that I know of, but you could research it at the library.”

  “There’s a library? That’s wonderful! She paused. “But I’m still going to go see the cemetery.”

  “It’s deserted, sweetheart,” Meredith said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go there all alone.” She glanced at her daughter, then Holly. “It’s best to travel in twos. Holly, maybe you and I can take a walk there together if Becky doesn’t want to. Or, I bet Steve would be happy to give you a tour.”

  “I’ll go if we can take the donkeys,” Becky piped up. She sounded annoyed.

  “We’ll ask Sheldon.” Meredith smiled. “I doubt he’d have a problem with that.”

  “Okay!” Becky turned to Holly. “Okay, we can go to the cemetery if we ride. Donkeys sense stuff we don’t, so if they get spooked, we have to leave. I don’t want to see a ghost.”

  “Sure.” Holly said, ignoring the girl’s commanding tone. She fully intended to check out the cemetery without a scaredy cat like Becky along - but going on a donkey would be fun, too.

  “So, did you feel that earthquake at three a.m.?” Becky asked.

  Holly shook her head. “I think so. I don’t really remember.”

  “You’re a sound sleeper, Holly” Meredith said. “It woke us all up.”

  “It wasn’t so bad,” Becky said. “So, you want to go downtown today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you two go have cereal at the house?” Meredith smiled. “Greg might have the bike ready for you by the time you’re done.”

  “That’s so nice of you. I’ll take good care of it.”

  “I’m glad to see it get some use! Be careful though, Holly. It’s really big. I’ve had it since I was around your age and they used to build them taller back then.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be really careful.”

  “Good. Now you two run along. Peg and I need to do the books.”

  The pounding on Cherry’s door matched the rhythm of the jackhammer grinding her skull. She pulled the covers over her head. “Go away!”

  The knocking continued.

  “Go away, damn it!”

  “Sorry, but I’m here on Miss Delilah’s orders.” It was a female voice.

  What the hell does that old bitch think she’s doing? Cherry glanced at the clock. It was barely past eight in the morning. Obscene! “Come back at noon. Bring fresh sheets and towels.”

  “Sorry, Miss Charlotte. Miss Delilah will be angry if I don’t deliver this to you.”

  “Tell the old bitch I wouldn’t let you in.”

  “She told me to use my passkey if you refused.”

  “Goddamnit! Goddamned old bitch!” Rubbing her forehead, Cherry crawled out of bed. “Holy fuck, it’s too early for this shit.” She opened the door. The maid was a fortyish Latina in a pink and white uniform. Her dark hair was pulled back in a neat bun and if she lost twenty pounds she might have been pretty. According to the labe
l sewn on her bodice, her name was Elvira.

  Cherry looked at the paper bag in the maid’s hands. “What’s that?”

  Elvira didn’t answer. She was staring at Cherry, her mouth hanging open.

  “What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen a naked woman before?”

  Elvira thrust the bag at her. “Miss Delilah wants you to put this on. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” She turned to leave.

  “What is this?”

  “Your uniform. Miss Delilah says I’m to train you for your job.” To her credit, she didn’t look too happy about it.

  “What can you train me to do? Scrub toilets?” Cherry’s head throbbed and she thought she might throw up. If she did, she’d aim for Elvira’s sensible shoes.

  “I am the head of housekeeping,” the woman said, keeping her eyes on Cherry’s face. “You are going to work for me, and yes, I will teach you how to scrub toilets properly.”

  Cherry stared at her. When her mother said she was going to have a job here, she hadn’t dreamed Delilah would humiliate her like this. It was ridiculous. Fuck you, Delilah. You can’t do this to me.

  “See you in twenty minutes. Be ready.” Elvira turned and walked away.

  “Half an hour.” Cherry slammed the door and threw the bag on the bed. An ugly pink dress and white apron fell out. And a lacy cap. “Delilah, if you think this is happening, you are wrong. Dead wrong.” She entered the bathroom and turned on the shower. The only thing she’d be scrubbing was her own body - it stunk of sex and the cowboy’s cheap aftershave.

  13

  Cherry, Interrupted

  “Thank you, Frieda. That will be all.” Delilah Devine tucked into her breakfast. As her personal maid, Frieda had her own fifth floor quarters in Delilah’s huge suite. She took good care of her, but as much as she loved Frieda, Delilah still preferred to eat without her hovering. She picked up a crustless triangle of buttered toast and nibbled between sips of orange juice, then plunged her fork into a perfect ball of honeydew. Then cantaloupe, a red grape and a green, saving the pineapple tidbits - fresh, not canned - in her fruit cup for last.