The table in the dining room had eight chairs, one for each of the guests, one for the innkeeper, and one that was unoccupied. I was shown to the seat closest to the door. To my left was Zach, a quiet guy about my age, who appeared to be slightly built and Hispanic. Next to him was Jeremy, a blonde boy who looked like he was still in high school. I guess he was traveling alone as well, but I had to wonder how he got here.
Sitting across from me was Caleb. Caleb was about as plain as you can imagine. He might have been a few years older than me, but really did not have any distinguishing features. Next to Caleb, however, was an attractive young lady named Leah. She had long, dark hair and the looks and body of a cheerleader. While it was hard for me to look at Caleb at all, it was hard for me not to stop and stare at Leah.
The last guest, sitting between Leah and the innkeeper, was Andrew. It almost seemed as if Andrew beared a bit of resemblance to the old man, but it may have been my imagination.
A butler came out of the kitchen and began pouring glasses of wine for each of us. To be polite, I was prepared to drink, though I do not often care for wine. This wine, however, was the perfect blend of sweet and tart, with just enough of a kick to it to make it worth drinking. Everyone else was equally happy to be drinking this delicious wine.
We made some small talk, and I’m sure I mentioned what I study, and where I was going, and they probably told me about themselves. But none of it ended up being memorable.
What I do remember was when the butler brought out plates of food, and my plate had a large, hot, golden-brown chicken pot pie on it. No one had asked me, but somehow they knew that this was my favorite dish. And what was even more amazing… no, scary…. was that the pie was just like my mother used to make.
The other guests had different entrees, but you could tell they were enjoying them as much as I was mine. Zach was busy cracking into crab legs and lobster tails. Caleb had a perfectly cooked filet mignon and a loaded baked potato. Leah had a plate full of tacos that had been individually wrapped. Jeremy had a stack of pancakes that he was topping with three different kinds of syrup. And Andrew had a fried chicken dinner that looked so good, I started to consider stopping by the Roadside Motel on my trip back to school.
Conversation was non-existent as we devoured all of the delicious, made-to-order food. Finally, the last bits of crust had been scraped off the pie plate, and I was done. I looked around to see my five fellow guests with looks of fullness and contentment.
We exchanged pleasantries, and each of them rose from the table to retire to their rooms. I then realized that I did not have the key to my room, so I asked the innkeeper for the key. He eagerly asked me to stay where I was and scurried over to his desk to retrieve the key. The ring had a fob attached to it with a large number “6” on it.
“It’s room number 6. We only have 6 rooms, so it can’t be 9. Haha!” The innkeeper must laugh at his own joke every time he gives out this key.
“Thank you so much sir. The dinner was wonderful. I will see you in the morning.”
“Yes, you shall,” the man said with a bit of anticipation in his voice. As if he were looking forward to hearing about how my night was going to go.
----
The whole campus of the Roadside Motel was very poorly lit. I stumbled a bit as I walked away from the office and towards the next building, where I presumed I would find my room. Maybe because of the wine, maybe because of the uneven ground and all the darkness and fog.
I found the first door, appropriately labeled door “1”. Next to “1” was “2”. I sensed a pattern, so I kept walking past doors 3, 4 and 5. Then the building ended. Maybe door “6” was on the end. No such luck.
I figured I could just go back to the office and ask the innkeeper or the butler where room 6 was. But when I got there, the place was locked up and totally dark. I knocked on the door. Surely someone was still there, I had only left a few minutes ago. But there was no answer.
I took the key and held it up as it looked like the fog was starting to clear. The dark night grew just a little bit brighter, and, through the clouds, I could see the bright, full moon trying to illuminate this strange night. I looked over at the motel building once more, and decided the only thing I could do was to check with one of the other guests to see if they could help me. Or sleep in the car. I was not going to sleep in the car.