Hospitality: a Cautionary Tale

Chapter 1 - WELCOME TO PARADISE

YOU’RE SITTING IN A HALLWAY wallpapered all old-fashioned with this fleur-de-lis design in shades of ecru, brown, green, violet, and gold. You don’t see her, but from a distance, your wife’s voice reaches your ears, the sound of her pin-thin heels echoing against tile, then hardwood, then tile again. “Wow, this place is amazing!”

She sounds bouncy and breathless, like she did the day you first got down on one knee with the ring. Of course, a lot has changed since then, but her refreshed enthusiasm must be a good sign, even if, for the moment, you can’t see her.

“Thanks; it’s a work in progress. I still needa get a guy up here and replace all these tacky chandeliers. But let’s get on with the tour, then, this way, after me…”

The other woman is obviously bored, her boots clunk-clunk-clunking with each step, her country drawl flat. This must be Maddy Longhall, the landlady at the bed-and-breakfast where your wife promised you’d both have a wonderful vacation. So far, you have no complaints. The scenery’s peaceful. Quiet. You’ve never seen sunlight quite like this, streaming through the windows to nearly blind you, uninterrupted by smog or the looming shadow of city high-rises. And whatever was in that drink Ms. Longhall gave you at the door, damn, it was strong! You’re feeling about as good as ever.

“Now, the Longhall company does far more than just hospitality. You’re gonna have full access to all the amenities, plus the complete catalog of our health and beauty products. We’ve got all kinds of teas and creams and every type of what-not to make you feel like your most rested, most bestest version of yourself!”

“That does sound delightful. I’ve been looking forward to some well-deserved R&R, and a makeover would be nice,” says your wife. “Do you offer pedicures?”

“Oyeah, oyeah, we got massage chairs and everything!”

That, you think, sounds like music to your ears. It’s about time she dolled herself up a little. Maybe if she put in a little more time and effort on the regular, you’d have a little more patience.

From rooms away, the conversation carries on: “Wow, is that a snake?!”

“If ya look a little closer, you’ll see there’s three,” says Ms. Longhall. “The yellow one’s mine, but them other two are the ones my ma brought here, rest her soul. She loved her animals…made a regular menagerie outta the place!”

“They’re beautiful…well, I think they’re beautiful,” says your wife.

“What? You don’t think the mister will feel the same?” asked Ms. Longhall. She lets out a chuckle. “Well, he won’t have to worry ‘bout a thing! Now, he’ll be habitating all the way downstairs…”

Wait…alone?

Come to think of it, isn’t it strange that they’re touring the rest of the property without you?

“But make no mistake, Ma’am, you’ll both be experiencing the most top-notch of quality when it comes to dining and accommodations.”

“Oh, I’m not worried. If anything, I’m more relieved than I’ve been in a long, long, long…LONG…”

“I hear ya, sweetheart. In fact, that’s why everybody comes here to the Longhall Retreat,” explains the proprietor. “You’ve been troubled for a dang hot minute. But me? I’m here to take your troubles right off your hands! It’s what I live for!”

“And for that, Ms. Longhall, I’m so grateful.”

“Oh, you call me Maddy, sweetie!”

The two women can’t be that far, but for some reason, they sound like they’re under water.

Vaguely, you recall the sense of unease that overcame you when your wife first broke the news that she’d won this vacation for two in a raffle. You’d never even heard of this retreat before, or the town of Sainte-Clodine. But she insisted it was going to be an unbeatable value, plus the perfect opportunity for her to lose those stubborn extra pounds that had crept onto her figure since the day the two of you tied the knot, so you signed off on the trip, despite your reluctance.

That reluctance is gone now, but it might have something to do with the unshakeable haze clouding your head, dulling all five of your senses. You try to poke and prod at your memories: weird that you can’t pinpoint the moment on the tour when you and your wife were separated, but the notion is hard to cling to for more than a few seconds, and soon, it’s hard for you to remember what you were so worried…what you were…what you…

“Now, c’mon outside! I wanna show you the joggin’ trails!”

The hinges of some unseen door squeak as it opens and shuts, and you think to yourself that they could use some grease. Then, the voices are no more.

You’d like to see the outside, too, so you start to get up out of your chair, or at least, you try, but you know what else is weird?

You’re shackled to it.