Writing for Fun
September 2022
Hotel Paradise - Lynn Gale
His henchmen were on my tail as I sped through the early evening mist. A bullet shattered the rear window, causing adrenalin to course through my veins. I kept my foot to the floor and careered around the dark, twisting lanes. Finally giving them the slip, I pulled up opposite my final destination.
Hotel Paradise was nothing like the name suggested, a gloomy back-water dive in a run-down part of town. The neon sign over the small shabby building flickered and buzzed like an angry bee. I pulled my collar up against the icy wind, determined to dig into my bones and crossed the deserted street. Pushing open the paint-peeled red doors, I stepped inside.
I took her photograph out of my wallet and kissed the smiling image. Tonight, we will start our new life together. I approached the desk; the receptionist was busying himself with his back to me; His black slicked-back hair gelled to excess. 'Excuse me...' I began.
He spun around like a gunfighter about to shoot, pushing his face into mine, his voice gruff. ‘I'm looking at you, kid. What do you want to know?'
‘Have you seen this woman?’ I asked the craggy-faced man with sharp hooded eyes, showing him the photograph. I knew his face but where from? ‘We arranged to meet here,’ I said, doubt creeping into my mind. When did we make this arrangement?
He looked me up and down, then pressed a small button on the desk. A slim bellboy appeared, adorned in a red jacket, white fedora and one white glove. The receptionist nodded at me, ‘Could you show our guest to the Fountain room, please?’
‘Sure, follow me,’ the bellhop said in a soft, high, singsong voice.
I fell in behind him as he began to dance to a rhythm only he could hear.
He suddenly stopped, tipped his hat and began to lean so far forward it defied gravity.
What on earth!
He pushed open a pair of large glass doors etched with strange symbols and gestured me to enter. I stepped into an enormous, brightly decorated ballroom that seemed to go on forever. Filled wall to wall with drinking, dancing people having the time of their lives. How was this possible? Such a vast room could not fit inside this small Hotel.
On a revolving stage in the centre of the dance floor, a skinny girl with a big voice, an even bigger bee-hive and covered in tattoos belted out a duet with a hip-shaking guy in dark sunglasses and a white sequinned jumpsuit. A manic-looking drummer accompanied them, arms and sticks moving so fast they became a blur, while an Afro-headed guitarist picked out a tune with his teeth.
What is this place?
A tall man with a crazy, thin, curled moustache added the final brush to his canvas; I sneaked a look at his masterpiece, melted clocks in a strange landscape.
Why do these people feel so familiar?
I began to search for her; she must be in here somewhere. Pushing my way through the crowd. I passed an animated man holding court. His entranced audience rocked with laughter at the speed of his impressions and one-liners; his contorted body and face added to their amusement.
Then I saw her, a vision in a pale yellow dress, her wavy chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders. She smiled that beautiful smile and waved me over.
‘You made it.’ She laughed. ‘Come, dance with me.’ Taking my hand she led me onto the crowded floor.
A voluptuous, blonde woman in a low-cut white dress carrying a bottle of champagne knocked into me. ‘Oh, I'm so sorry,’ she said in a breathy red-lipped voice.
A new act took to the stage. A stocky blue-eyed guy sporting a buzz cut with a commanding voice began to sing a duet with a tall, slim man, a lightning bolt painted across his pale face. While we slow danced our way around the floor, she nuzzled into my neck. ‘I need a drink,’ she said, looking up at me with those amazing green eyes.
As the tempo sped up, a couple in evening dress, him in top hat and tails, her in a black dress with Peter Pan collar started to tap their way around the polished wooden floor in a dizzying display of synchrony.
We cheered along with a watching crowd as a curly-haired man took a bow, after escaping from being handcuffed in a burlap sack suspended from the ceiling.
She was so beautiful. When I took the chauffeur job with one of the top diamond merchants, I could never have imagined this woman would agree to run away with me. We planned for months; I couldn't expect her to forgo the finer things in life she was accustomed to. I needed those diamonds her husband had recently acquired.
We wandered over to the long cocktail bar lit up like the Vegas strip. I lifted my finger to catch the attention of a tall sharp-suited bartender. 'Can I get a vodka martini, please?'
‘Will that be shaken or stirred?’ he asked in a smooth Scottish accent.
‘I know you,’ I said, staring into his rugged face. ‘I'm sure I do.’
He smiled; his brown eyes crinkled with a wicked glint.
I put my arm around her as we clinked our glasses together. ‘We made it, darling; here’s to the rest of our lives.’
They stood in silence as the tow-truck winched the grey Bentley slowly and carefully out of the stagnant water of Lake Cona. Detective Frank James watched impassively while the bloated bodies inside were checked for identity.
‘It's them, sir,’ Deputy Steve Johnson cautiously eased the driving licence from the water-damaged wallet.
The search was over for the runaway lovers. They found a bag of uncut diamonds in the driver's pocket.