I am haunted. Not by a ghost or spirit, but by a memory, an experience.
Some years ago, when I was on the road, drifting through life, I found myself in a small town called Blackgrove, Oregon. It was a charming town on the Pacific coast with plenty of ocean and forest sights to see. It was sort of hidden and I had only found it because I was driving up the coast. Nestled in cliffs and trees, one could drive past it and never know it was there.
The people I met in that town were memorable and unique, if not numerous. It was a small town in every sense of the word. While not somewhere that I'd really want to settle down, it was a beautiful place to visit. This was all my first impression of it, anyway. The truth about that town turned out to be much...stranger.
When I first drove into town on a chilly autumn morning, my initial reaction and thought was that the town had a dreamy feel about it. It was as if time was different there. It didn't stand still, it didn't speed up or slow down, it was just different. It was disorienting in a pleasant, surreal sort of way. There was something off about the town, but I was attracted to it all the same.
I had originally stopped in Blackgrove (tired from driving long hours) to get gas and hadn't planned to stay very long at all. When I got out of my car to refuel, I was immediately overcome with a strange but familiar feeling. It was the sort of feeling that you get when you are somewhere new and foreign. You can feel it. It's a feeling of anticipation, excitement from discovery and adventure.
The air seemed crisper and cleaner, with perhaps an earthy scent. Though sunny, the area was diluted with shade provided by tall pines and cedars. The ground was a rich brown and red. It was as if man had subtly squeezed into a natural space as opposed to destroying everything in order to make room for himself, which is his habit. Blackgrove was a pleasant balance between civilization and untouched nature, its buildings and roads seemingly sprouting out of the ground between the trees.
As I finished fueling my car, I heard a feminine voice speaking to me from behind. "Hi," she whispered, half startling me, "sorry. Didn't mean to spook you. I didn't recognize you. You must be new in town." I turned around to see a young woman, perhaps in her mid-20s (like myself). She had her light blonde hair in a ponytail and was wearing a pair of overalls and a worn pair of brown hiking boots. She had a youthful aura about her and a kindness in her face, seasoned with a weariness that I felt had stemmed from experience and hard work.
"It's alright. My name's Dakota," I replied, "I'm just drifting through."
"Dakota. That's a nice name. It's a shame you won't be staying with us longer. I was curious about you because we don't get very many fresh faces around here."
"Well, I don't know. I am pretty tired from the long drive. I guess I could probably stay the night. Is there a motel nearby?"
"Oh, yeah! You'll wanna go to Derik's place on the other side of town. There's a big sign that says 'Blackgrove Motel' just by it. You can't miss it."
"Great. Thanks."
"So...where you from?" she asked, leaning on her car.
"Just...kind of all over...you know?"
"Wow. You really are a nomad, huh? I wish I could do that. Just spread my wings and fly. Leave this all behind. I bet you've got lots of great stories." I felt bad. My disinterest was most likely quite visible on my face. Give me a break. I was exhausted.
"Yeah, um...listen, I should probably get going, so--"
"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm always doing this. 'Stupid Willa! Stop talking so much!,'" she said to herself, "I'll let you get back to it."
I did my best to feign a smile in my tired state. She was a kind girl; I just wasn't in the state of mind to practice the art of conversation in that moment. I liked her though. "It was nice meeting you," I said to her as I got back in my car. She waved bye to me as she got back in her own car and I headed off.
When I arrived at the motel, which was nestled into the forest on the side of the road, I saw a series of semi-rundown buildings and an old neon sign. "Blackgrove Motel," it read, and below it, "VACANCY." The "g" in "Blackgrove" and the "o" in "Motel" were blinking. I pulled my old sedan into the dirt parking lot and stepped out with my backpack, breathing in the forest air once more.
I always carried my essentials and sentimentals in that backpack. Toiletries, a change of clothes, memorabilia, etc. I did this so that I could keep all the important things in my life safe. I could also leave any extra items locked up in my car and not in whatever motel room I was staying in (where it could potentially be left behind). My car was essentially my home in those days, but it didn't make for the best bed. Hence, motels were a frequent part of my nomadic life. It was also the easiest way to get a great shower. God, good showers were hard to come by back then.
"Hello?" I called out as I entered the check-in office, "I'm looking for a room."
I heard a slightly bored, yawning voice respond to me from the closed door behind the desk. "Yes, one moment please."
I rested with my back against a wall. This was an old habit I had. I didn't like having my back to the door because, for whatever reason, I've had a lot of run-ins with pickpockets and thieves. I didn't have so many things that I could afford to not be paranoid about them. I'm aware that it made me look weird, but I'd rather look weird than be the victim of a crime.
I know what you're thinking. If this lifestyle came with so many risks, why did I stick with it for so long? Well honestly, what lifestyle doesn't have risks? Monotony is the killer of many a soul, and mine was nearing its expiration. I suppose you could say I had been searching for something, and I hadn't found it...until Blackgrove. And there were other, more serious reasons as well that we'll get into later. I'll explain that in a bit. For now, let us return to our bored friend Derik, the motel owner.
The man, who I correctly assumed to be Derik, appeared from the back room. He was a man of average height and build and his age was indeterminant. He had a very clean cut with black hair and dull, grey eyes. He stumbled lazily to the desk, rubbing his right eye. Sleeping on the job? I couldn't judge. I could tell by all of the keys still hanging behind the desk that it was a slow day. In fact, I'm sure most days were slow. It wasn't exactly an easy-to-find town.
I gave him a smile and said, "hi, I was hoping to get a room."
As if my smile had finally woken him up, he smiled back and replied jovially, "hello! It's wonderful to meet you. We've got a lovely room just next door if you'd like."
"Actually, do you have anything a bit...further down?" I said, careful not to insult the man or seem too strange.
"Of course! How does room 110 sound? It's ten doors down." That's strange. Usually my request for a room furthest away from everyone is met with, at the very least, strange looks. Something was off about that guy. "Great," I said, "I'll take it." After checking me in on his guest register, he handed me the key and kindly told me to let him know if I needed anything.
I had turned around to head to my room when he asked, "may I ask how long you'll be staying with us?"
"Oh I don't expect to be staying more than one night, really. I should be back on the road by tomorrow morning."
"Oh come now, surely you could stay another day or two." That's an odd thing to say, I thought. Is business that bad?
"'Fraid not. I shouldn't even be staying the night, actually. I'm just...so damn tired, you know?"
"Hm. Well should you decide to stay with us longer, I do suggest checking out some of our shops downtown! We have some really charming places over there."
"Thank you. I'll think about it." After that, he waved "bye" to me as I left the office. Such a strange man, I thought. Something in me wanted to go back and peek through the window at him. I snuck up to said window and peeked in. Derik was standing there, but he had an odd emotionless gaze on his face. After just standing there and doing nothing for about 10 seconds, he slowly turned around and went into his backroom, closing the door behind him.
I felt odd after that encounter. He was strange, but not so strange that he couldn't have been just an awkward, well-meaning man. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something so off about him.
I digress.
Small spoiler: I ended up staying much longer than just one night. It's amazing, sitting here and remembering just how out of control I felt in that town. I don't mean to say that I was unhinged or crazed or anything of that sort. I just mean that, try as I might have to leave that town, I simply couldn't. Looking back, Blackgrove had its hooks in me from the very beginning. I felt like I was waiting for something. Something that was coming. Something bad. And I needed to be there for it.