The Macedonia Hotel, Chapter 3
The Macedonia Hotel
A NANOWRIMO
Relay writing project
By the Wayne writers Guild
Completed July 2016
The Macedonia Hotel
(This fictional piece is the product of a relay writing project by the Wayne Writer’s Guild In honor of NANOWRIMO-2015. Any resemblance to real events, people, places, or things is a coincidence and neither intended nor implied to be real and accurate.)
I extend my thanks and gratitude to the contributors who shared their time and talents to make this NANOWRIMO Relay Writing Project possible.
The individual chapters are the intellectual property of the author.
Special thanks are extended to John Cieslinski for his generous use of the book store’s back room.
–Kate Chamberlin, Coordinating Editor
July 20, 2016
Wayne Writers Guild
Meets at 7:30pm – 9:00pm, on the 2nd and 4th. Tuesday of each month
Books, Etc. of Macedon, NY
John Cieslinski, Owner
78 W. Main ST. Macedon NY 14502
Phone 585-474-4116
Chapter 3
Stranger in a Strange Town
By Jeffrey Thomas Cook
The road had grown somewhat narrower and the sunlight had long drifted behind the horizon. Bradley Bemiss had been driving much longer than he had planned that day. On his way from Syracuse, he was disappointed that he hadn’t quite made it to Rochester yet. But his eyes had started to lose their focus and the Town of Macedon looked friendly enough to stop and spend the night; ‘if’ he could locate a Holiday Inn, Best Western or something of that sort.
After a few fruitless miles, he had just about reached the outskirts of town when the lurid and indecorous sign of the “Macedonia Hotel” happened to catch his weary, bleary eyes. The snowflakes were falling now and for lack of a better choice, Bradley pulled into the patched parking lot and located an available parking spot.
Despite the hotel’s unattractively rugged exterior, much to his surprise, the Macedonia Hotel actually appeared to be teeming with life. As the old saying goes, the more the merrier! However Bradley had the overwhelmingly odd feeling that he had perhaps made an error in his choice of lodging. He never really enjoyed traveling outside of his home state of South Carolina. Still, being a road warrior salesman for the Southern Belle’s Clothing Company, he had been on many a sojourn to the north. How bad could this place be?
Before he had even made it to the front door, Bradley needed to stop short, as an empty soda bottle skimmed loudly across the walk in front of him. In the dark of the cold night, it appeared that it had come out of nowhere. It wasn’t 10 minutes earlier that an aggressive driver had cut him off on Main Street., not to mention the three deer that nearly took out his Prius two minutes after that; this place certainly seemed to have Bradley in its sights. Nonetheless, he couldn’t wait to get to his room, throw himself down on a clean mattress and unwind before bed.
The front desk attendant seemed more interested in his NY scratch & win tickets then he was anything else. As Bradley stood at the counter, he made every effort to make himself noticed. After he rapped his knuckles and vehemently cleared his throat, the unshaven man grunted something unintelligible to his potential patron.
Bradley considered walking back out the door when the man put down his tickets and his dirty scratching penny and spat out, “One room?”
“That would be just fine,” quipped Bradley. “I’m from out of town. I’ve been on the road most of the day and really just need a place to finally lay my head down.”
Billy squinted, “Yer a country boy, aren’t ya? I could tell by your accent.”
It always amazed Bradley how many people from the north proudly identified his accent before he could actually utter two sentences, because in this neck of the woods, it really was about as obvious as a pumpkin in a strawberry patch. Yet they would always amuse him with their keen knowledge anyway.
Pointing over his shoulder to the worn room key wall behind him, Billy uttered, ”Yer in luck, I got two rooms left.” He turned, “You say you want just one roo?
Bradley looked around, winced and nodded, “I’m pretty tall and all but, yeah, I’m pretty sure I can fit into just one room, sir.”
Billy nonchalantly gestured past Bradley, “Just thought that one might be with you….”
Bradley turned his head, roughly 10 feet behind him, there appeared to be a remarkably young and sullen-looking girl staring at him. She did not avert her stare when Brad turned and looked at her. She seemed to be clueless and without inhibition. Bradley had an uncomfortable feeling that he had walked into a really odd, modern episode of the Twilight Zone.
He turned and stated, “I’m sorry, sir, she’s not with me. I’ve never seen her before.”
“Well, I have,” Billy spat. “She lives here in Macedon, and she’s here with a bunch of other kids. There’s a little gathering goin’ on here. Since you ain’t from around here, I guess you haven’t noticed.” He paused and looked at the clock on the wall behind him. “Don’t worry, them kids oughta’ be outta’ here by … 1 or 2 am.”
Bradley grunted with some disappointment.
Billy continued, “Why don’t you take room 13B. Between rooms 13A and 13B, people tend to complain a lot less about 13B.” Willy offhandedly snorted and turned back to his quick win games.
Bradley exhaled. ”Okay, let me go to my car and grab my cell phone before I head in.” Looking over his shoulder to see if the girl was still lurking, he saw no sign of her and wasn’t quite sure if that was a really good thing or a really bad thing. He turned back to Billy & asked, “Do you, by chance, have a porter or a bagboy to help me out, sir?”
Billy forced a wince and scoffed, “Everyone’s got a dream, son. Everyone’s GOT a dream.”
Bradley stared at him for a moment. He started for his car and quipped, “I will take that as a NO.”
When outside, he unlocked his car and snatched up his phone. Bradley had noticed one thing about this sparkling town they called “Macedon”; people here were a bit short on southern hospitality. This was a no nonsense kind of place.
He locked his car up tight and trudged back to the hotel entrance. This time around he couldn’t help but notice the distant rumble of some over-played Bad Company song as teens’ voices crackled from high up above. The snow had quickened and Bradley instinctively looked up to see four or five girls having a belch competition on the roof of the fine establishment. This place, to his recollection, was a lot more interesting than anything he had ever encountered. Macedon was enticing yet somehow … forbidden.
Bradley had almost reached the building front when something caught his eye. The hotel had a huge tower; a cupola, if you will. Its grandeur seemed slightly out of character, but what really seemed to unnerve him were the garish and unsightly numbers scrawled under it. “Est. 1888”. It was an ‘old’ building, no question, but what made matters worse, was when he stopped and stared hard at the numbers. There appeared to be something moving up there; between the 8’s. Something or someone was actually in the cupola. Brad shuddered.
His attention was broken by two unwieldy and apparently inebriated teen boys who nearly knocked him over from behind. They brushed past him as they darted into the front door of the Macedonia Hotel. Bradley thought it best to get inside unscathed before he got bounced onto his Southern Belle keester. He dearly wanted to make it out of this state without contusions, stitches or negative mental hygiene arrests.
Once inside, the lobby now had a collection of more boisterous individuals. From their demeanor, it seemed clear to Bradley that they were quite comfortable in these confines. He pushed his way back to the counter, “If you don’t mind, I’d just like to get my key and call it a night as quickly as possible. I could make mention of some other weird things that are going on with this place, but I’ll just save it for another time.”
Billy seemed preoccupied. Nonetheless, he methodically turned, grabbed the key to 13B and dropped it on the old wooden counter. Bradley took the key, made sure to put it in his pocket.
Billy mumbled, “That’ll be $50.00 cash, son. No checks, no plastic.”
Bradley cocked his head, frowned and fumbled into his pocket. He fished out the fee for one night’s stay and plopped it in front of Billy. “Y’all have a great night now.”
Bradley turned with his baggage, but then stopped. “Hey, one last thing, sir…” Billy huffed and waited irritably with one eyebrow raised. Bradley continued, “Why does it seem like some of these people – I don’t know…” He looked back and forth uncomfortably, “Um, well it seems like some of these folks…live here?”
Billy had fielded this question before. And without hesitation, he flatly exclaimed, “Son, you can check out from this hotel at ANY time, but, you are correct, some of these people never really leave.”
Author Bio:
Jeff Cook worked for fourteen years at the Town of Penfield scripting many meaningful productions as well as some entertaining narratives. Upon resignation, he’s flourished as a freelance contractor, writer and multi-media 3-D artist. Through the Macedon Players, he is currently finishing editing of an original script for a full-length stage play with the working title of “Cake and Brandy”. He is proud and honored to have contributed to the Wayne Writers Guild’s most recent collaborative work.
Wayne Writers Guild
Meets at 7:30pm – 9:00pm, on the 2nd and 4th. Tuesday of each month
Books, Etc. of Macedon, NY
John Cieslinski, Owner
78 W. Main ST. Macedon NY 14502
Phone 585-474-4116