Topic: Modern Day
"No," Sasha said. "I said I'm not going."
Janet pouted at her, "Come onnnn it's only for an hour and we'll back before you know it!"
"Last time you said that I wasn't back here for 3 days, and my cat nearly died," she said with a smile. She couldn't do that to Gerard again! Poor thing looked like a crunched up chip packet when she finally got home, and smelt like one too. She gestured to the white-striped cat stretching by the window.
"Yeah, but how often do you get to party with J Saunders!" Janet said excitedly.
"Never, but also, I never wanted to?"
"Pft you had the most fun outta us all!"
Sasha hesitated, ran her hand through her long, dark hair in contemplation, and then rested it on the doorknob. "Are we done here, Jan?"
"Hmph," Janet harrumphed. "You're totally missing out."
"Sure I am...byeeee Janet - let me know how it goes," Sasha laughed, and closed the door.
"Or maybe I'll just bring the fun to you next time," Janet called as she sauntered back to her car. "It's going to be WILD!"
The sound of Janet's car revving out of the long-term motel that served as Sasha's small little universe helped to calm her nerves. Janet had been her best friend since uni, but hadn't learned the joys of a peaceful Saturday morning pottering around at home. It could be great to set out with Janet on a ridiculous adventure out of this shitty town, but there was a whole lot of nothing planned for Saturday, paired with a fresh cup of coffee, and Sasha was determined to keep her appointment.
She pulled on a beige cable-knit sweater, walked over to her window and sank into the plush, green armchair that sat by her window looking out through the motel towards the street, comfortably hugging her arms around her knees. She sat here on her weekend mornings watching people, silently assessing their fears, anxieties, desires and needs. It was a relaxing way to unfocus her mind from a hectic week of chasing down leads in the sleepy yet elusive town.
Here, for example, was 'Old Man Timothy', the pepper-haired black gentleman from Room 17 who would without fail, totter out of his room at 10am to get to the free Continental breakfast being served in the ritzy, run-down lounge. The squat green hat he'd donned today matched perfectly with his shiny, emerald-green shoes and a white collared shirt, and his hat tipped precariously as he slowly made his way across the carpark. He'd arrived a month ago, and seemed like he'd be joining the regulars like Sasha for a long term stint - something she was looking forward to.
In comparison, the two kids from 23 were making a racket running up and down, round and round through the stairways and the outside areas. They were jabbering in a language Sasha didn't know, but she thought she recognised Korean phrases as they went around. Japanese? Eh, she thought, who cares - they were a blow-through family that were in for the Children's festival. Their juvenile laughter and terrifying shrieks couldn't make it fully through the double-glazed, orange-tinted windows of her room, but the impression was unsettling enough.
Then there were the two elderly sisters in Room 5 that were staples of the place, peering out of their windows just like her. Apparently, they had moved in 30 years ago and were being paid to stay there for some reason. Lovely beaming smiles as newbies came through, horrible if you were a regular. Sasha shuddered at the memory of her returning home at 3am one night, seeing the window to Room 5 suddenly slam open and two wrinkly old women hurling insults and waking up the motel just because of her.
A blaring trumpet jolted her out of her reveries, followed by the raucous din of a loud, multi-coloured bus that paused outside the motel.
"Hear ye, hear ye," a bored voice blared out of the megaphone. "The Children's Day is upon us. Please help us welcome...Jeremyyyyy Franklinnnnn!"
Screams perforated the air as children streamed out of rooms, flocking to the balloons and acrobatic figures languidly start their performance. A crowned figure smoothly emerged from the bus, and burst out on to the street to confetti cannons...
...which unfortunately caused Sasha to flinch in surprise, and knock over her steaming coffee cup. The splatter of the coffee spilt on to the table, hit the chair, spread across the rug, and started seeping into the carpet. Gerard squealed at the sudden explosion of noise and ran towards the bathroom.
Fuck, Sasha thought. She hurriedly ran to the kitchenette to grab some paper towel, and rushed back to mop up what she could. She soaked up most of the liquid from the table and chair, but the stains on the carpet and rug were stubborn.
"Gerard!" she called. She went looking for him in the bathroom, but he was nowhere to be found.
Crap, Sasha thought. I'll have to find him later - probably in the damn roof again. Gotta get that coffee out first.
Cleaning supplies were held under lock and key by the tight-fisted proprietor of the motel, and his nosy, stubborn daughter, Fran, would ask lots of questions about what she needed it for.
Sasha sighed, grabbed her keys, snaked her feet into some comfy flip-flops and set out for reception. Looking out at the motel front, a small crowd had formed to see acrobats climb up and over the bus, jump down and throw each other around. Fantastic, athletic bodies shimmered in the sunlight, rhinestone kaleidoscopes shining and glittering to enamoured fans.
"Hey Fran," Sasha smiled.
A gruff woman looked up at her over her glasses, "Yes?"
"Fun day outside, huh?" Sasha said brightly.
Fran stared. "Didja want somethin'?"
"Ah, yeah, I just need a few cleaning supplies," Sasha said breezily. "I've spilt some coffee and want to clean it up so..."
"But you're not supposed to have coffee in the rooms," Fran snapped.
"Residents are allowed one take-away coffee to be purchased between the hours of 9pm Friday and 10am Sunday," Sasha intoned, something she had observed from the biddies in Room 5.
"Not without a permit," Fran shot back stubbornly.
Sasha wasn't perturbed, "I've been here long enough to know that ain't real. Come on, I pay you enough don't I?"
Fran grunted, and paused for a moment.
"It's...a new policy" she said, with a glint in her eye.
Innovative, Sasha thought begrudgingly.
"Look, can we just skip this part where you and I get into a punch-up about what is and isn't policy, and get to the point in this conversation where we get out of each other's hair?"
"Sure," Fran said primly. "But policy's policy."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll get the permit when you sit down and write it up. Now - cleaning supplies?" Sasha put her hand out and stared unflinching at Fran.
Fran attempted to hold the stare steady, until the door opening behind Sasha interrupted her. She looked up, surprised, and scurried to the back room to get the cleaning supplies.
Sasha turned around and saw the royally-bedecked crowned figure who had been dancing and singing for the kids. His gaudy crown sat on his head at an angle, a fur-lined purple robe adorning his shoulders, and loud jester shoes - literally, they had bells on. He took off his sunglasses and glanced around the dingy reception area.
"You work here?" he said casually.
"Nope," Sasha leaned back on the table. "Do I look like I do?"
He smirked, "Appearances can be deceiving, unless you're me. Know who I am?"
"King Henry the 8th?"
"Nope."
"Prince Harry?"
"Uh, no..."
"A really bad impersonation of Queen Elizabeth? You've got the clothes but your wrinkles aren't fully formed so its-"
He interrupted her, "I'm King of the Children's Festival, Jeremy Franklin," he said loudly, and pulled out a cane from the deep recesses of his robe with an unsteady flourish. In his other hand, he brought out a rose and tried to present it to her, but it dropped from his hand.
She looked blankly down at the rose, then back at him, "Who?"
"Huh?" He hesitated, and dropped his arms.
"Who's Jeremy Franklin? Am I supposed to know who you are?" she said, confused.
"I'm a worldwide ch- ugh, don't worry about it. Where's the receptionist?" he fumed. "Some idiot child got in front of the actors and got kicked in the face - we need some ice."
Sasha said warily, "She's getting me some cleaning gear - spilt some coffee from the racket you made earlier."
Jeremy looked her up and down, taking in the robe, hair and baggy sweater.
"You livin' here or something?" he asked gruffly, taking a step towards her.
"Why?"
He weaved in closer, "Well do you know where the ice packs are, then?"
"No," Sasha turned back to see if Fran had returned and tried to ignore Jeremy.
"Oi, I asked you a question" Jeremy said angrily. He moved closer towards her.
"Yeah, and I told you I don't fucking work here," Sasha slid away from his advance.
"What's your problem, bitch?" he lunged and tried to grab at her.
"Uh, can you fucking step back please? You smell like shit," Sasha deftly dodged him again. From this distance, she could smell the alcoholic fumes and the see his red-eyed bleariness.
"Why aren't you HELPING ME?" he shouted and caught hold of Sasha's arm.
Panicking, she tried to pull away and fell back on to the table, pulling them both down on to the floor with a crash.
"Let go of me!" she cried. She aimed a punch at his face and connected solidly. He cried out in pain and let go of her wrist, clutching his nose.
"What the fuck's going on?" Fran shouted as she came back into reception, arms full wih cleaning supplies. Jeremy quickly crawled around and tried to get up.
"This bitch tried to-"
Sasha took the opportunity in the disturbance to grab the ceramic ashtray that had fallen to the ground, and threw it at Jeremy, cracking into pieces off his head with a resounding thwack. He roared, swung around and blindly tried to attack her. She tried to scrabble away, and felt him grab her ankle.
"Get back here!"
Sasha aimed a kick back at Jeremy, felt his grip loosen, and scrambled up to the door to try and escape. Her phone started ringing, and she fumbled for it as she got hold of the door handle.
Flinging it open, she saw that a crowd was forming for her own rousing fight. She pushed her way out into the cold Saturday morning air, ignoring the stares, and pulled her robe around her, striding back to her room.
Shivering, Sasha ripped the blaring phone out of her pocket, and saw it was Janet.
"What?!"
"Sasha! Sasha! You won't believe the day I just had!"
Without pausing for breath, Janet rushed on, "We just won tickets to the King's show down at the Children's Festival - it's Jeremy Franklin performing!! Come down come down!!"
"Uhh....I think I might have you beat for once, Jan..."
0 comments:
Post a Comment