Two Degrees Closer to Hell

Two Degrees Closer to Hell

Two Degrees

Closer to Hell

David Fingerman

Three Waters Publishing, LLC

Savage, Minnesota

Copyright © 2013 David Fingerman. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the copyright holder, except for brief quotations used in a review.

Cover design by Airicka's Mystical Creations

Interior design by Three Waters Publishing, LLC.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and are used fictitiously. Apart from well-known historical figures, any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN: 978-1-942930-00-6

Second Edition: February, 2016

Published by

Three Waters Publishing, LLC

Savage, Minnesota

Visit us on the web at

http://threewaterspublishing.com

Printed and bound in the United States of America

In memory of Andrew Robinson

I know of no one who put up a better fight.

Contents

An Almost One Star Hotel 1

After Until Death Do Us Part 15

The Park 31

Hell Mouth 42

Noise Pollution 54

Camp Conifer 59

Autumnal Equinox 77

Family Reunion 87

Two Degrees Closer to Hell 95

The Storm 108

Obsessed 111

In Loving Memory 123

Freak Accident 130

Mud 134

The Devil Takes a Vacation 140

Tax Exempt Status 148

Mourning a Friend 167

The Frozen Lake 176

Cat Scratch Fever 180

Pray to Eddie Winkle 185

The Weatherman 203

Observations 212

Night Shift 215

Kind of Like that Twilight Zone Episode 219

A Cockroach Tale 233

An Almost One Star Hotel

Lenny Flood looked around

at the drab surroundings as he stepped up to the counter. The red carpet looked more pink from years of fading. The sofas in the lobby had tears in the fabric under worn out patches. This place might’ve been nice forty years ago, but it looked like they hadn’t done any touch-up since.

The desk clerk checked him in and rang for the bellhop. Through a seedy lobby, a slender young man with an ashen face and wearing a maroon uniform stepped up. In an emotionless voice he introduced himself. Welcome to the Serene Hotel. My name’s Bobby Halliday. May I take your bag for you, sir?

Lenny gave him the bag and followed him into the elevator. The doors shut, and with a soft whir the car began its ascent. Mildly surprised, Lenny felt grateful for the silent ride. He didn’t like inane chatter, and obviously, the bellhop didn’t either. The boy just stared above the doors watching the numbers flash until the car stopped and the door opened.

This way, sir. He turned left and walked down the dimly lit hall. Here we are, room 513. He opened the door and Lenny followed him in.

My God! Look at the size of that cockroach. Lenny said. He watched as a roach almost the size of his hand scurried under the bed.

That’s the breakfast, sir, the bellhop answered. Best to save him until morning.

Lenny looked at the boy for a sign that it was a joke, in bad taste, but a joke. There was no expression on the boy’s face as he passed with the suitcase and plopped it onto the bed. A cloud of dust mushroomed upon impact, gently coating the bag as it settled.

This is a joke, right?

The boy walked to the door and held out his hand. Yes, sir.

You want a tip? Lenny stared wide-eyed. I’ll give you a tip. Get rid of the roaches and have a maid come in and dust every once in a while.

Yes, sir, the bellboy answered, his hand still held out. The expression on his face didn’t change. What? Lenny had three options. One: he could stare him down until the kid finally got the hint and left. Looking at the stone face, Lenny thought he’d probably lose that one. Two: he could tell him to get the hell out, he wasn’t going to get a tip. Then word would probably spread and the rest of Lenny’s stay would be miserable, if it could get more miserable. Or three: give the bastard a tip. Lenny reached for his wallet, pulled out a one, and put it in the outstretched hand.

Thank you, sir. The hand with the money disappeared into the bellhop’s pocket. Would you like me to turn down the bed?

Lenny looked at his watch. It’s only 5:30.

The boy’s look remained the same.

No, that will be all.

Very good, sir. Enjoy your stay. The bellboy laid a key on the suitcase, silently turned and walked into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Alone in his room, Lenny looked around. A TV bracketed from the ceiling looked down on him. Above the bed, a picture of a sailboat being overturned in a storm was the only décor in the room. Next to the bed sat a small table, also covered with a thick coat of dust. Under the dust sat the telephone and a remote control. Lenny stared in disgust as he could already feel his throat beginning to tighten up. Dust and asthma didn’t mix, and he hoped that he remembered to pack his inhaler. It wasn’t needed yet, but some fresh air might help. He walked to the window and slid apart the heavy gray curtains. The view overlooked a sooty brick wall across the alley no more than twenty feet away. He unlocked and lifted, cracking open the window. Instantly, his nose was brutally assaulted by stench. He slammed the window shut as he gagged.

What the hell! He pressed his face against the glass and looked down. Even from five floors up he could see a swarm of flies hovering about open trash bins filled with rotting garbage.

Running the two steps to the bed, Lenny groped for the latches on his suitcase. Gasping for air, he reached for his inhaler. One shot and his throat opened back up, rejoicing from the new clean air that danced in his lungs. Sitting on the bed, taking deep breaths, he watched as another cockroach, smaller than the first, crawled between a crack in the floorboards.

Christ, I’ve got to spend a whole night here? Lenny mumbled to himself. He thought of calling the front desk and demanding another room, but wondered if any of the others were any better. Fuck it, he said aloud, and leaned back reaching for the remote control. I’ve lived in worse. He thought back to his college days and all the mold from forgotten pizza under the couch along with the mess of four roommates. One of them, he couldn’t remember the guy’s name, got so fed up with the dishes in the sink he just pitched them in the yard. The idea of washing them never occurred to him.

The television clicked on and the screen lit up with snow. He clicked the next channel button, more snow. Every channel showed the same thing.

That does it! Even in college the TV worked. He reached for the phone, his temper ready to explode. Ugh! Slimy goo dripped from the handle staining his hand. He slammed the receiver back into its cradle and walked to the bathroom. As the light flickered on, a roach ran down the drain of the sink, while another slipped into the space where the pipe from the sink went into the wall. He twisted the knob for hot water and heard clanking pipes from behind the wall. The tap rattled until a thick brown glob was spit into the sink, followed by a trickle of water the color of copper.

With the water still running, Lenny turned and reached for a towel. His stomach clenched as his fingers came within inches of a tattered rag spotted with multicolored gunk. He wiped his hand on his khakis, leaving a greasy smear down his pant leg.

I’m a nice person aren’t I? What the hell did I do to deserve this? He made a mental note to charge the hotel for the dry cleaning.

Lenny walked out of the bathroom and heard a crunch under his shoe. He lifted his foot and saw the remains of a cockroach whose guts looked similar to the splotches on the bathroom towel.

I’m outta here.

As he latched his suitcase, Lenny remembered the words his boss told him. Flood, you’ll love the place. Comfy, quiet, almost like a bed and breakfast; very quaint. You’ll have no distractions while preparing for the presentation. Lenny fantasized about wringing the neck of his boss, closely followed by the manager of this hellhole.

With another shot from his inhaler, Lenny had his suitcase in hand and headed for the door. He ignored another crunch under his foot and grabbed the doorknob. A searing pain shot into his palm as the brass knob snapped from the door and landed on the floor the same time as his suitcase. He grimaced when he saw a chunk of metal lodged in his hand, blood bubbling up around the gash.

Lenny gritted his teeth and pulled the splinter from his skin. A thin stream of blood flowed up his arm saturating the cuff of his white cotton shirt. You’ll pay for this, Lenny said. He wasn’t sure if he were talking to the hotel or his boss, maybe both.

The water, if anything, had only gotten darker as Lenny looked on from the bathroom door. He clumsily undid his silk tie and used it to wrap his hand. Back at the bed, he opened up his suitcase and pulled out a shirt. Carefully binding it around his good hand, he picked up the phone. Keeping the receiver at least three inches away from his face, he pressed 9 for the front desk. Nothing. He pressed 0 for the operator; again, dead air.

Veins throbbed at his temples as Lenny picked up the phone and threw it against the wall. In a fit of frustration, he stomped to the door and kicked. The way things were put together in this hotel, Lenny wouldn’t have been surprised if the door shattered. But the way his luck had been going, sending a splinter of wood into his leg. Or better yet, the door would be the only solid thing in this damned room and he’d break his foot. Neither happened. The door rattled, but held. The one thing that Lenny didn’t expect was a voice on the other side of the wall.

There’s been a complaint about the noise, sir. Is everything okay in there? It was the voice of the bellhop.

No, Lenny wheezed. He grabbed his inhaler and gave himself another burst. No, everything is not okay in here! Lenny now screamed. I’m locked in!

It’s very simple, sir. Just turn the knob.

It’s a good thing you’re on the other side of that door. The knob broke off, you idiot!

There was silence and Lenny thought that the kid might have flipped him the bird and walked off.

Finally, Why did you do that?

Lenny saw red. I didn’t do anything! It just broke off. Now get me out of here. I’m hurt!

Again, silence for too many moments. You got hurt turning the knob?

Lenny closed his eyes and counted to ten. It just broke off in my hand and I got cut, he said as calmly as he could.

You shouldn’t be so rough on things, sir. We’ll have to add that repair onto your bill.

Forget the boss; forget the manager. This kid was going to be the first to go. Just get me the hell out of here!

Again, he thought the kid might have left. If he did, Lenny decided he’d just keep kicking until either his leg, or the door, gave way.

Are you still there, sir?

Where else would I be, you dolt!

The voice didn’t acknowledge the insult. Sir? Why don’t you take the key and use that to unlock the door and use it as a knob?

The voice had that smarmy quality like he just discovered the secret to world peace. It was a good idea, but Lenny would be damned if he was going to give that schmuck any credit. He remembered the kid throwing the key on the suitcase, and turned toward the bed. He was positive that it must have slid onto the bed when he grabbed his bag.

Lenny froze. He was just in time to follow a trail through the dust and see a cockroach, it looked like the same one that greeted him when he first entered the room, carry the key and disappear between the pillow and the headboard.

He dove onto the bed and tossed the pillow aside, sending a cloud of dust to float around his head. Slipping into a crack in the wall, Lenny saw the glint of metal, a little round piece of tin attached to the key with the room number stamped on it. He snatched at it with thumb and forefinger. Despite stubbing his fingers against the wall, he grabbed hold and yanked.

The cockroach tugged back. Lenny used his free hand to slap the wall with his palm. More dust fell, but it worked. The vibration must have startled the cockroach just enough to let go. Free from the wall, Lenny walked to the door and slid in the key. With a quick flick of the wrist, the key snapped, breaking Lenny’s thumbnail in the process.

Son of a bitch! he screamed.

Sir?

The key broke off in the lock!

Are you toying with me, sir? If you are, I really have other things I should be doing.

I’m not kidding. The key broke!

You shouldn’t turn it so hard.

Lenny could feel his face turn crimson and the vein in his temple throb. Before he exploded in a rage, the bellhop spoke.

I’m going to have to speak to maintenance, sir. Please don’t go anywhere. I’m sure management will want to have a word with you about your vandalism. This hotel does not cater to the rock star mentality.

What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind? Lenny screamed, spittle flying past his lips.

And where the hell am I going to go? Are you a moron, or what?

Lenny looked around and felt the walls closing around him. Not normally claustrophobic, he moved to the middle of the room not wanting to touch anything.

A knock on the door. Are you still in there, sir?

No. I went out for a walk! he screamed at the bellhop.

"Good one, sir. Just wanted to let you know that our maintenance guy went home for the evening. He’ll be back first thing in the morning.

You’ve got to be kidding. What the hell am I going to do? I’ve got to get out of here!

May I suggest you relax and watch the television? We’ve got cable.

Like everything else in the hotel, the TV is broken too, you idiot.

Did you break that too, sir? If so, that will be added onto your bill, also.

Lenny snapped. He raced to the door and began pounding it with his uninjured hand while screaming to be let out.

If you’re going to be acting like that, I cannot help you. Good night, sir. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.

Lenny pounded until all of his strength drained out. He sank to the floor, feeling and hearing more crunching under his rear. He didn’t care anymore. The walls felt even tighter around him now. Evening dusk crept through the window. He got up and went to the bedside table and turned on the lamp. A quick flash and the bulb went dead. Lenny began to laugh as he yanked the cord out of the wall socket and tossed the lamp across the room. You can add this to my bill too. It bounced off the wall. Surprisingly, it was the first thing that he touched that didn’t break.

With night approaching, Lenny knew that he had to get out. He’d go crazy if he had to spend the night in this room. And if insanity didn’t eat him alive, the cockroaches probably would. As he looked around the room, his eyes landed on the bed. He quickly got up and pulled down the bedspread. No blanket, just a stained sheet. He didn’t want to think about what the stains might be.

Lenny quickly stripped the bed. Between the bedspread, sheet, mattress cover, and two pillow cases, he hoped that all tied together it would be long enough to reach the ground.

When he finished with the knots, he tied one end to the bracket on the wall holding the television. He gave the sheet a couple of good, hard tugs. The bracket held securely.

Carrying his makeshift rope over to the window, Lenny took one more shot from his inhaler before holding his breath and lifting the glass. He tossed his lifeline out the window, poked his head out, and gasped. He wasn’t sure if the stench made his eyes water, or if it was that the end of the sheet still stood two stories above the ground.

Pulling his head inside, Lenny thought about the consequences. At 5’10" he figured that if he hung from the very bottom, with the length of his body, he’d only be one floor up. He’d made longer jumps before. He remembered as a kid he jumped off his roof into a pile of leaves. Other than a shocked mother and being grounded for a week, he came out of it fine. But that was twenty-five years ago when he was fourteen. Now his bones were a little more brittle, but he still felt in pretty good shape. He might sprain an ankle, at worst maybe break a leg. But the drop wouldn’t be fatal. And hell, a broken leg would make the lawsuit against this hotel even sweeter. He’d never have to work again. Definitely worth it, he thought.

Lenny went over and picked up the suitcase. He walked to the window, plugged his nose and dropped his luggage. It landed in the trash bin with a splat. In spite of the smell, Lenny smiled. Whatever the garbage was, it was soft and probably knocked off about three feet from his fall. Besides, he had a change of clothes in his bag. He’d just have to remember to put his dirty clothes in plastic as soon as he could. He wanted to save the reek so each juror could smell what he had to go through.

The dead air made Lenny sweat as he climbed out the window. His hand stung as he clutched the sheet. Slowly and carefully he made his way down. Past each window he looked in on an empty room and wondered why they put him on the top floor of the five story building.

At the top of the second floor window, he ran out of line. Lenny looked down. It looked a lot farther than it actually was. He hesitated.

So what am I going to do, climb back up? he mumbled to himself.

He closed his eyes and let go. It was over in less than two seconds. The landing had been perfect. He didn’t even twist an ankle. But like a sponge, he felt garbage seep through his clothes and into his skin. He grabbed his suitcase and scurried out of the bin.

I’m free! he shouted from the alley. An uncontrollable laugh temporarily took over his body.

When the giggling subsided, Lenny coughed. He reached into his pocket and panicked. He couldn’t feel his inhaler. As soon as it registered, he instantly had more trouble breathing. Could he survive digging in that stink? He didn’t think so.

Then, all the bad luck from the hotel room seemed to have dissipated now that he was free from his confines. But before he took the plunge back into the dumpster, a glint of light caught Lenny’s eye. His inhaler lay at his feet.

Once again able to breathe, Lenny looked down the alley. A big white truck blocked one entrance. He hid between that and the dumpster and as quickly as he could changed his clothes. He wiped off as much odor as he could, but even with clean clothes he reeked. Still, he strutted down the alley a happy man. Before he called his lawyer, Lenny was going to march back to the Serene and rip that hotel manager a new asshole; figuratively, of course. He wouldn’t give them any reason to jeopardize his lawsuit.

At the foot of the alley, a passerby took a whiff and looked at Lenny like he was a monster. Red-faced, Lenny put up with My God, what is that smell? with grace. He turned the corner to the hotel and his blood froze.

In the middle of the block stood A Serene Hotel, but not his Serene Hotel. The flashing red neon vacancy sign hanging over the black door had disappeared, replaced by classy electric lanterns casting a soft glow on each side of a gold trimmed revolving door. Instead of the cracking red bricks with crumbling mortar that looked like a backdrop for a firing squad, now stood a clean tan brick building that emitted a safe feeling.

In shock, Lenny staggered to the entrance, still looking down both sides of the street for the other Serene. Unlikely but possible, he made a wrong turn down the alley. Unlikely but possible, there could be two Serene Hotels. How else could it be explained?

Lenny walked past the entrance and circled around until he got to the alley. The truck had driven off, but otherwise it looked familiar. The familiar smell of rot permeated the air as he entered. Then, through the dim light he saw proof. Dangling above the dumpster hung his rope of sheets.

It can’t be, he said to no one as he backed out of the alley. He raced around the corner and back to the hotel. Where was the Serene Hotel he checked into? This made absolutely no sense.

Cautiously Lenny stepped through the revolving doors. Inside, the room glittered. Crystal chandeliers hung from a vaulted ceiling. An unattended grand piano sat in the middle of a spacious lobby.

Can I help you, sir?

Startled, Lenny spun around and saw the concierge smiling politely. He took a whiff of Lenny and the smile instantly disappeared.

I’m, I’m not sure, Lenny answered. What happened to the other Serene Hotel?

The concierge looked at him. The other one? I’m not sure what you mean. There is no other one. Unless you mean the one that was torn down five years ago to make way for this one.

No, Lenny said. I was there tonight. An old fleabag of a hotel.

Don’t know, sir. This is the only Serene Hotel that I know of.

Lenny staggered deeper into the lobby and found himself at the check-in counter.

Can I get your name, sir? A pleasant twenty-something girl crinkled her nose and fanned the air with her hand in front of her face as he approached.

Flood, Lenny Flood.

She typed in his name on the computer. Whew, I’m sorry for being rude, but what did you fall in?

Trash. Would you believe I climbed out of a window in this hotel, that wasn’t really this hotel and landed in the dumpster out back? I didn’t think so. I got mugged and they threw me in a dumpster in the alley.

Oh my goodness. The girl looked up in alarm. Are you all right? Did you call the police?

Lenny marveled at his own ability to lie on the