Two and a half hours later—because service had been just that slow—Lauren and Jonah stood in front of their respective hotel room doors.
“Here goes nothing.” She slid the old-fashioned key into the slot and twisted.
“May the odds be ever in your favor.”
She opened the door and flipped the switch, lighting a sole lamp beside a double bed covered with a hideous floral blanket.
Jonah peeked into his own room. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“A gallon of hand sanitizer and a hazmat suit would be just swell.”
Instead he gave her a wry grin. “Lock your door behind you.”
“As if I’d forget.”
“Good night.”
“Very optimistic of you,” she muttered as she stepped onto the olive-green sculptured carpet. Once inside she shut the door and twisted the lock. She was definitely keeping her shoes on. She moved to the air-conditioning unit and flipped it on, not because it was hot but because of the weird odor she didn’t care to identify.
She hung her purse from a hook by the door. Inside it was a bag from the local drugstore that contained a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. At least she didn’t have to worry about anything crawling into a suitcase.
Timidly, she walked past the bed and dresser to the speckled Formica countertop, circa 1974. She peeked into the bathroom, complete with a stained toilet, a tub with a plastic shower curtain, and the distinct odor of mold. She zeroed in on a squiggly black hair near the tub drain and grimaced. So no morning shower then. After closing the door she returned to the living area.
A text buzzed in from Jonah.Whatever you do, don’t turn on the bright overhead light.
She thumbed out a response.My tub has a hair in it.
Only one? Lucky. The sheets seem clean at least.
She peered at the polyester spread. Who knew when that thing had last been washed.You’re very brave.
Get it off there, quick.
He had a point. She pinched the cover and gave a tug, sending the thing into a heap at the foot of the bed. The sheets were Pepto-Bismol pink but seemed clean enough, and not a hair in sight.
The sound of a TV came through the wall on Jonah’s side of the room. She stilled and listened as he flipped channels for a while, then settled on a news channel. It was only eight o’clock—too early to settle in. And she wasn’t quite ready to submit to whatever might be in that bed. Her head itched at the thought.
She took the lone chair at the table for two by the window. Might as well read—nothing too scary, given her current situation. She opened the reading app on her phone. She preferred physical books, but these were desperate times. She shopped online and treated herself to a new women’s fiction novel she’d been wanting to read—it was her birthday after all.
Several minutes into the book her nose began to itch. Because she was allergic to mold and it was clearly on a first-name basis with this place. A sneeze built and escaped.
Her phone buzzed with a text.Bless you.
Lauren awakened, her bladder begging for relief. So much for avoiding that bathroom. A glance at her phone showed it was only 10:21. She’d gone to bed out of boredom at nine. She flipped on the lamp, then slipped from the bed, straight into her shoes, and went to the bathroom. She was just returning when something scuttled across the floor.
“Aaaahhhh!” She jumped onto the bed and screamed again because,mouse! It had to be. It had been too big to be anything else and it had gone behind the dresser. Ick! The bed trembled as she did a little heebie-jeebie dance.
What now? It would come out eventually—it couldn’t stay there forever. She could never sleep in here now. What if it crawled over her? A full-body shudder passed over her. Her gaze toggled from one end of the dresser to the other, waiting for the rodent to make its escape.
Someone pounded on the door. “Lauren! You okay?”
Jonah.“It’s a mouse! There’s a mouse in here!”
“Oh, for crying out... I thought you were being murdered in your sleep.”
“Did you not hear me? I am trapped in this room with a mouse!”
“You’re not trapped. Just open the door and come out.”
