Trouble in Paradise | ONC 2024

2 - Rooms

Luke Galloway entered the first room in the west wing, W1, holding his suitcase, his briefcase, his baseball cap, and a packaged sandwich. The air was musty, and the carpet was crunchy; his expectations were met. He closed the door behind him using his foot, dropped everything on the table, and collapsed face-first onto the bed, letting out a deep, tired sigh into the sheets.

If he fell asleep now, he would be asleep the whole day. The idea wasn't entirely awful, but he knew he'd regret it, so he rolled over and rubbed his eyes until he was more alert. His watch said it was two-thirty, and the analog clock on the wall said it was two-thirty-five.

He rolled over some more until he was facing the nightstand. There was a complimentary notepad but nothing to write with. He reached for his briefcase on the floor, fiddled with it until he took out his pen, and started writing down what he had said so he wouldn't mess up if it came up later.

He said he was in Little Rock for work. He said he was a consultant here to present a plan to a company. Was there anything else? He thought on it and shook his head. He wouldn't have said anything at all if that woman hadn't asked, not that he minded her asking—he'd make the same kind of small talk if he truly was a businessman meeting another businessperson—and she seemed nice enough.

He tore off the page and tucked it into his pocket. He had enough clothes for a week, if he actually stayed that long. He just might. The Paradise Hotel wasn't a luxury, but it wasn't a complete rat's nest, either. It was peaceful, and that mattered to him most. 

Luke sat up and grabbed the sandwich. It was meant to be Italian, with mozzarella and tomato, and somehow it managed to taste like neither of those things. Was it bland, or was he being judgmental? He decided it was both and ate it slowly, watching the clock tick.

...................................

Elsie Reese entered room W3, flung her backpack to the floor, tore off her dress, and hopped in the shower. She washed off the sweat, her tears, and the dried blood from the scrapes she received while running away like an animal. The water only reached lukewarm, not hot, but it was better than nothing. 

California to Arkansas. She'd driven from California to Arkansas, wearing the dress the entire damn time, stopping only to sleep in the car. This was her first shower in days, and she scrubbed furiously, turning her skin red from the effort. Eventually, she calmed down enough to simply stand there, letting the water run down her body.

She'd said yes. She was getting married because she'd said yes. Thank God she came to her senses in time, but Jesus Christ, why had she said yes? Why had she gone along with that family—no, no, it was a cult, she had to start calling it a cult—in the first place? Why was she so stupid?

She'd been happy a few days ago. Happy braiding hair while hers was braided, happy as they all picked flowers and ate what he said to when he said to, traveled when he said to where he said to. She was content for the several years she was one of them. She'd competed to receive the honor of becoming his third wife after the second got arrested and the first died of an overdose. A happy accident, he said. Clearly it wasn't meant to be. 

It was at the last possible moment, during the few minutes she was left alone in the room to ready herself after being dressed, that she changed her mind. She crawled out of the window. She went to their home, shoveled what she could into a backpack, stole a car from the nearby Safeway, and drove off east, heading into the night.

Elsie was free for the first time in years...but what if she was being hunted? What if he did love her enough to come after her?

She turned off the shower, the handle squeaking against the motion. The hotel's provided towel felt like sandpaper. The clothes she had packed weren't the cleanest, but they were less dirty than the dress. She pulled a sweater over her head, put on some pants, and sat down on the bed. Her empty soup container was in the trash. She was still starving, but she would wait until an acceptable time to go to the lobby for dinner. There were likely better food options in Little Rock, but then she'd have to park there, and what if she got a parking ticket, and they realized the car was stolen? She'd rather risk running into the other hotel guests than being arrested.