It was early spring and the moon had just passed its fullness. Evenings were cool and golden. The ancient hotel was unusually quiet on this night, but shadows seemed to move as if unseen guests were restless. A few folks sat out in the rocking chairs on the porch, smoking and staring at the street. A log truck rumbled by, gears sounding low and guttural. An early mourning dove sang out from a magnolia tree across the street, as a sleek orange cat strolled by on the sidewalk underneath.
Inside, a television spewed tidbits about weather and a couple of locals sat at the bar, looking at it blankly. The night dragged on. Finally, just before closing time, a young couple stopped in, interrupting the dull boredom with loud, enthusiastic questions. The weary bartender looked slightly annoyed at having her peaceful reveries brought to an end. “So when was this place built?” asked the young redheaded woman as she sipped her margarita.
Then came the usual inquiries about the old hotel and its history. Despite their persistence, no one seemed to be inclined to engage in conversation. The weather channel seemed to be much more interesting. Still, this young couple kept it up, wandering around the hallway and lobby, talking excitedly about the woodwork and asking questions about everything and anything. They went upstairs and looked at some rooms, peeked into the almost empty dining room, then started wanting to go up and look around the cupola.
This was situated on the very top of the hotel, an imposing and mysterious room that was off limits to visitors, much to the dismay of the young couple (who seemed determined to explore this forbidden area). When outright bribery didn’t work, they finally gave up and went back into the bar, chatting and ordering drinks until last call set them to ordering doubles. The wind picked up outside, causing windows to shake softly and porch rockers to sway eerily, as if occupied by invisible patrons.
The young couple became strangely quiet as the television was turned off, lights were turned down, and customers paid their bills and left. The dining room staff followed shortly thereafter and only the young couple, the bartender, and the desk clerk were left. A clicking noise broke the silence, followed by the sound of chairs scraping the floor in the deserted dining room. Then, the front door suddenly flew open, revealing no one, only the night outside. The clicking turned out to be the sound of an adding machine in the office, which no one was using. It sounded strangely like morse code. Then, the young woman’s cell phone rang.
When she answered it, there was only static. The number that appeared on the screen was her boyfriend’s phone, which sat on the bar untouched. “This is weird,” said the redhead.
“I haven’t even picked up my phone!” exclaimed the young man.
Again, the windows shook and shadows moved. “Is this place haunted?” stammered the young woman.
“Now what makes you think that?” smiled the bartender as the television turned itself back on.
