Motel Halloween

Amanda asks, "What grade did you get, and what did you do with the website?"

I stop moving, anger burning in me, "He told you?"

Amanda is also angry; she yells at me, "Someone needed to. My own brother, the guy that is closer to me than anyone else, and you don't tell me shit. That hurts."

I throw it right back at her, "Close? That's bullshit. You're much closer to your two friends. Over the last six years, you've drifted away from me. Long before college, you had no use for me. So don't give me this bullshit that we're close. We USED to be close. Now, I know you. We have nothing special anymore. It's not like we used to be."

Amanda shoots back, "Ok, so you want me telling you about men I have sex with and letting them fuck me? Do you want that conversation? You'd be more likely to beat the kid up, or at least try."

I shoot back, "You know what I mean. Your two friends replaced me. We barely talk anymore. I've been lonely. You were my rock. With you gone, I feel like a piece of ribbon that gets blown from yard to yard, never staying in one spot for too long. Why don't you go back to your friends? They need you; I don't anymore."

With a hurt expression on her face that Charlie didn't see, Amanda returned to her friends with tears in her eyes.

I finish my shower and dry off. While a towel is on my head drying my hair, the door opens, a woman walks in, admires my body, and then gets into the shower.

I comment, "Take a picture next time. Oh, and thanks for waiting. You would be screaming if I did that to you."

I was expecting Amanda, yet Kate replies, "Then come on in and wash my back. You can look all you want."

I know she's teasing me. She would scream if I did that. I'm pretty sure she's teasing me. I put my boxers on and slide into the bedroom and then the bed. This has been a weird day. I'm tired, sore, and have lost my sense of humor. I need sleep. It's a bit early, but it will do me some good.

I fall asleep on the edge of the bed like last night. An hour later, the girls come up, take showers, change, and are ready for bed.

Amanda nudges my shoulder, "Charlieeeee. Wake up, baby." I am barely awake. "I drank too much and need to be on the edge of the bed. Move over."

I roll over, so I am still back-to-back with Amanda, as we have done numerous times. She's happy. I'm happy. I can go back to bed. Nope. Kate is across from me, back-to-back with Jenna. I groan, and she rolls over. She ends up right in front of me. The top of her head is right under my chin. She pulls my arm around her, right between her untethered breasts. No hands are involved, but my arm is in heaven.

Chapter 5 -- Monday

"CHARLIE!!!!!! What the fuck!"

Yes, I'm up now.

Kate sounds happy, "Stuff it, Jenna."

She sits up while pushing me on my back.

As she crawls over me, she bops my lips with hers and says, "Thank you. I have never slept so well."

She exits the bed, takes off her shirt, the only stitch of clothing on her, and skips to the washroom while Amanda screams at Kate. I have no problem with that. I need to stay in bed for a bit while I calm down. I don't want them to see me sprouting a boner. When Jenna and Amanda walk into the washroom, I dress and go downstairs.

It's pancakes and bacon today. I am starting to love cooking on a huge grill. I can cook all the bacon I want with no issues. Today, I found out my grill isn't level. Rather than circle pancakes, they're oval shaped because they all ran. Blueberry pancakes taste the same no matter the shape, so we did OK. Kate helped set the table, and I got stuck with the dishes again.

As we're breaking up, there is a distant scream of agony. This was straight out of a scary movie where the main character dies a painful death. It was bone-chilling. The hair on the back of my neck is on the end. It was away from here, but it sounded like it was in the house. It had to be the third floor or attic. Both Stan and I run to the kitchen for large knives. Then we run up two flights of stairs with all three women behind us.

At the top of the stairs, we rest. Running up two flights of stairs is not easy; I am sweating and sucking hard for my breaths. All of us are at attention in a flash as a small translucent green glowing mouse-like image runs past us. It ran through Jenna's foot. It wasn't a straight line. The "mouse" ran in short erratic arcs down the hallway, and then it turned the corner. Soon after, we hear moaning. Stan and I run off. I'm thinking we need to save someone.

Every door but one is open. I notice that Stan is behind me. I turn the door handle and push the door open. It stops after just a few inches. I put my shoulder into it, and the door gives way much easier than I expected. Once inside, a ghost glows an eerie white, then attacks me.

I half expected my bowels to empty. Fortunately, I was up for the task. I'm protecting my sister, her friends, and my best friend. I make my best knife fighter impression and slice the ghost into ribbons. Stan falls to the floor. Who touched him? Nobody got past me.

I look at Stan, and he's on the ground in a fit of laughter. It's not long, and my sister and her friends are laughing along. I look back in the room to see a shredded sheet that has the word "Casper" written on it. It's hanging on a sturdy hanger. There is a long pole hanging from the ceiling that's on a steep angle. When I pushed the door open, it knocked over a brick with a string that prevented the hanger from sliding down the pole towards the door. The room's black light gave the sheet a cool glow look.

Once again, I have fallen for one of his famous pranks. I feel stupid. Amanda, Kate, and Jenna are laughing harder at me. It was a nice set-up; he got me good. Since I'm not laughing, I walk off in a foul mood. The food delivery should be here any minute. I stomp off mad.

Amanda wants to run after me, but Stan stops her, "No. Don't. Please. He hates it but suffers because he knows I love it. Leave him alone, and he will be fine. If you say anything, he will brood for days. Trust me; I'm an expert on this. It's already going to be worse because you three were here."

Jenna asks, "How did you time the scream?"

Stan looks at us worriedly, "I didn't. I thought you found this, and that's why you were behind us."

Jenna, Kate, and Amanda all shake their head, 'No.'

Amanda adds, "I know, my brother. He didn't know this was coming; the scream was not his work. Besides, we were all together."

Stan picks up the knife, and together, the small group checks the other rooms. Each room is empty. Stan was tense, and now he's relaxed. All three women notice Stan relax and realize he is as uptight and scared as they are. Obviously, Charlie was scared. Ha, ha, he killed a sheet. What made the scream? Something's going on here.

From there, it's back to the grind of cleaning bathtubs, sinks, and setting up rooms. The painting is coming along well. They should be done by Thursday. Most of the rooms are staged with furniture; it's a matter of outfitting them. Stan is doing interviews to hire staff. Some of them start immediately and assist with staging the rooms.

Lunch is Reubens and French fries today. Never again. Something about the grill made the heated sauerkraut nuclear-reactive. Everyone wanted to be alone because of the shame of a simple thing like passing gas. It really was the foulest odor. I didn't want to be with me today.

Because I knew I had a large order coming in, I wanted an easy dinner. I made a whole turkey, knowing I would have lots of leftovers for turkey pot pie or turkey sandwiches for lunch tomorrow. The turkey pot pies were too much work; we had sandwiches. I spent most of the day putting away all the food. To stock a kitchen from scratch is a lot of work. The spices alone took an hour to put away.

Dinner was easy, turkey plus stove-top stuffing, green beans, and baked potatoes. Two store-bought pumpkin pies and a can of whip cream made a nice dessert to end the day. I then had everyone enter the great room and stand behind the bar.

I lined up five shot glasses and poured five shots of Ouzo.

Amanda comments, "I take it you have a liquor license now?"

My toast, "To the city's speed for approving our liquor license so quickly."

We all drank our shot together.

I pull out five wine glasses and fill them up with my hand, hiding the label. I put the bottle back under the counter. They all look at me suspiciously.

I toast again, with all glasses in the air, "To the kind vineyard a half-mile down the road that gave us a case of each wine they sell."

We all know how to drink wine. We all took a sip, swished the liquid, enjoyed the taste, and slowly swallowed.

Stan was the first to talk, "Damn, that's good stuff. What's the name?"

I brought it out, and all heads were shaking because nobody had ever heard of them.

I start my story, "I went to the grocer to buy some food. On my way there, I see a cardboard sign flopping in the wind. I notice the word 'Vineyard.' I turn down the road and find a small vineyard with a barn. As I pull up, the lady asks, what kind do you want?"

"I'm a bit taken back. No showroom. No taste testing, no menu of the styles or prices. So, I ask about all that. The lady is about forty. Her husband, a younger guy, comes out looking mad like I'm harassing the wife. I explain that this isn't how to sell wine. A long story later, I found out they both worked in other places making wine. They married and started a vineyard with a winery. They KNOW how to make wine. They are clueless at selling it.

"We will buy their wine wholesale to sell here and online. We will do the wine tastings, give samples, and more or less be their distributor. It's a good deal for both of us. You must meet them and have your lawyers set up and sign a contract. They didn't even ask for a contract. You both want one."

Stan is in tears at hearing this. He can't speak. His only outlet is to stand up and hold his friend.

Amanda asks, "What else do they have?"

I say with a terrible French accent, "You just had the Riesling; I also have a Zinfandel and a Cabernet Sauvignon if you please, madam."

Everyone chooses the Zinfandel. It is amazingly good. They may not be able to sell wine, but they sure do make a good bottle. We tried out the new karaoke machine, and as expected, none of us had any skill. That did not last long. Cards and chips were brought out, and we played a Texas Hold'Em tournament. Stan wants to do this weekly. The chips have values on them. Each chip shows a dollar amount and a famous hotel in Vegas. I say dollar amount, but no money is involved; it's just for fun.

We all had fun playing cards until late at night. We all had a fun night. We walk up the stairs, still bantering. Stan now stays in a room that a maid now cleans daily. We could as well, but somehow, we have accepted this new normal. I shower, and they strip to bras and panties this time. I find them sitting up in bed when I come out. This is different. Amanda and Jenna are still on the edges, but Kate is next to Amanda this time.

As my mouth hangs open, looking at the situation, Jenna shouts, "Oh, come on, Charlie. You saved us from a sheet. Get in bed and cuddle up with me, my savior."

They bust out laughing, yet there is only one spot on the bed, and it's clearly reserved for me by the woman I thought hated me. Am I being played?

I do crawl into bed and turn towards Jenna. Jenna backs into me the same way Kate did yesterday. Like yesterday, my arm is brought around and through the breasts. I like this sleeping thing. Kate snuggles up behind me. Her hair is on my neck, tickling me, and she throws a leg over mine. The best part is feeling those massive melons on my back. I will never tire of that feeling.

I feel both women fall asleep. Their breathing has slowed, and their bodies have relaxed. I hear Amanda turn over. She's now facing my way, but Kate is still between us. I hear the chain outside our door again. In a flash, Amanda is at the door and whips it open. Why? If something is creepy outside, why open the door? We would have no weapons if there were something there.

I can't see anything, but the sound of the chains being dragged along the floor can easily be heard. Jenna and Kate are waking up.

Amanda can see a thick chain slithering back and forth as a snake does. It's a slow-moving chain that fades as the door opens. Amanda steps into the hallway and sniffs the air. Nothing unusual. Would a ghost smell like death?

A confused Amanda sits on the edge of the bed with one leg on the bed and one on the floor. She wants to talk. Her friends are up now.

"I saw it," says a scared Amanda, "I heard and saw the chain. It was white, but the opacity was almost zero. You could just barely make out what it was. The chains were large, like for one of those super yachts, and not massive like an ocean-going freighter or tanker. It wasn't in sync with the sounds. A heavy chain would have had a lower tone, but since nothing was there, there should have been no sound anyway."

Jenna and Kate are freaking out and want to leave. Amanda is having none of that.

Amanda reasons, "Have we been targeted, attacked, or in any way threatened? We have all seen the mouse and the ball that runs on the edge of our vision. We heard, and I saw a chain, but it ignored me. I want to know who is doing this, why, and how."

I reason, "I don't believe in ghosts. So far, I killed the only true ghost we've seen." They giggle. "They don't seem evil. If anything, they're kind of shy. When they know they've been spotted, they go away."

Jenna pulls me back to bed and says needfully, "Hold me."

I spoon behind her and place my arm between her breasts. Oh yes, I know it's pervy, but what can I do? We both like it. Kate's leg covers mine, and her hand sneaks its way into my boxers and lays on my hip. I wanted her to go further, but that didn't happen.

One by one, we fall asleep.

Chapter 6 -- Tuesday/Wednesday

Tuesday and Wednesday were more of the same. They clean and stage rooms while I cook, work on a menu, and hire a chef. The chef will hire the waitstaff, which means I need to hire a chef today. I hired a recruiter; they had three out to see me by noon.

The first guy looked like a biker dude with piercings and tattoos covering his body. He turned out to be very well educated, a nice chef, but light on experience. The second chef was cute as a button, had experience, and an attitude that annoyed me to no end. The third chef was the best at cooking; she was older, single, and had two children. Her previous employer retired and closed the place down; she needed a job.

I asked her, "Would you blow me to get the job?"

Sandy says without looking, "I would, but I would spit it out."

I tell Sandy, "You got the job."

I could see she was happy to get the job but not thrilled at having to blow me.

I put up both hands in a stop motion, "Woah there, Sandy. I suspected that you were desperate with children after just losing your job. You had the most experience, were the best chef, and earned the position. I was just testing your desire; I'm not asking you to do anything else now or ever."

She still leaped to her feet and hugged me.

I instruct Sandy, "Let me show you the kitchen. I had zero experience, so things probably need to change. I want you to start making a list of things we need, and Stan will get them. This is your kitchen, so rearrange it as you desire. I started a menu with seven inserts for the daily special. The computer has all the artwork and templates I used if you need to change prices or adjust the menu."

Sandy is quick to point out, "Layout is typical. You got most things in the right place. A few things, like the cleaning products, must be below the food. I will need to change that, but overall, not bad. I see a lack of freezer space."

I explain, "It seems like the last owner liked everything fresh, so they had more but smaller deliveries."

Sandy asks, "The menu is a bit ... um ... well ... basic. Everything is on the grill and only uses a few ingredients."

I laugh, "Like a guy just learned how to cook?"

Sandy laughs, "Yes, that would account for the childlike menu. It's OK; I will fix it. How many am I feeding for breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow?"

I answer, "Breakfast is 7:00, five of us, six including you. Lunch is noon, and we have a dozen. Dinner is six unless your children come, then it's ten. Right now, we all eat what you cook. One meal, nice and easy. It will be that way until Friday. Friday is a big party for friends, family, and a few select travel agents. We are also the sole distributor of local wine."

Sandy cuts me off, "I know. They're friends of mine."

I continue, "They seem like nice people. For the party, we will do family style with a buffet table. No waitresses until Saturday. Stan hired a caterer for Friday, but I would like to showcase your skills. I want you on hors d'oeuvres and desserts. If you have a great vegetarian dish for dinner, that would be great. I want people to know we can cook, not just cater. Your kids can come, but no drinking for them."

Sandy asks, "When can I start?"

I smile back at her, "I think you started half an hour ago. Since you just started, I will make the roast beef sandwiches. I bought some steaks so they would be better. I need to cut them thin."

Sandy pushes me back, "No, no, no, not in MY kitchen. If you got some decent steaks, I'd make some Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches. You can help; start cooking the fries ASAP."

I counter, "Isn't it too early?"

She counters me, "It may not be early enough. I want to cook them twice. After cooking, I need them to cool down and put them in the fridge."

That is how I lost my cooking job. It's funny; I retained the dishwasher duties. I then spent my afternoon carrying the boxes up to the third floor for the bedrooms up there. How does this place not have an elevator? Because the third floor has suites, there is more to carry than just the two boxes of bedding, pillows, and washroom items.

These rooms have artwork, desks, chairs, more light fixtures, a small refrigerator, ice buckets, bigger TVs, and a host of other items. Just walking up two flights of stairs is no fun. Doing it a dozen times, even less so. Hauling heavy items like mini refrigerators, tables, and chairs, was downright murder.

The hired help assisted. Stan saw me suffering and took pity on me. I was handed a glass of fresh lemonade, and a dozen young, strong men and women carried the rest upstairs for me. I did take solace in watching them wear down as well.

I spent the last hour assembling a table and moving furniture as Amanda directed so it looked perfect. I must admit, the rooms look awesome. I know they don't have five-star luxury, but they look spectacular.

Dinner was roast pork, dumplings, and glazed carrots with cream cheese and strawberry kolacky cookies. The cookies were both the Czech round version and the folded-over Polish version. Sandy blushed all through dinner from all the compliments. It wasn't a slight against me; I was just learning. They all did credit me for not killing them and doing pretty good. They mentioned the sauerkraut, which made Sandy cry from laughing.

Wednesday night, we heard a scream, ignored it, and I spooned with Kate again.

Chapter 7 - Thursday

Thursday is a whirlwind. I get the shower last as I'm not cooking. Breakfast and lunch were excellent. The meals were more intricate, and I didn't have to cook. I spent the morning with Sandy redoing the menus. She needed new graphics, and I type faster. After lunch, we finished the main building. All rooms are clean, assembled, and ready for a guest. Today, the last of the trim is being painted on the outside, the whole dining room is finished, and we will have an operational kitchen with waitresses by the end of the day.