Pine trees echoed: Beeeeeeep!!!
The alarm sagged in volume. It would die its own death before the tow truck arrived from Sun Valley, the place Brian would give anything to be rather than stay at this barely functional lodge in BFN.
“Whatta you gonna do?” Mel eyed Brian, toeing the dirt road. She’d reapplied thick—smoky? he guessed—eyeliner. Her pale cheeks turned pink in the intense sun.
Brian mourned his truck stuck in a mossy ditch, “I don’t even know how to turn off the horn.”
“Yeah, that’ll probably be another fee.” She stared at the yellow frame.
Brian swung his head toward her, his too long brown hair waving behind. He willed his eyes to flash. “You think that’s funny?”
The dark queen pressed her lips together. “Look, Brian. You couldn’t be more stuck if you did it on purpose. It’s, like, karma. Or something.”
He huffed at the tickling feeling in his lungs. “Yeah. Ha, ha!” He flourished to his ride. “A parting gift from my parents. Of course it’s broken. Like everything else in my life. It was supposed to take me to my new job.”
“You have a job. Here, now.” Mel touched his upper arm. “It worked.”
Up close, he saw she’d reinserted a silver nose-ring which she’d probably ditched for yesterday’s interview with Seren. Baggy cargo pants and a Nirvana t-shirt hid her shape.
He wore yesterday’s clothes. “Only if I wanna work for Mrs. ‘Nothing’s cheap up here, honey.’” He stuck out his hip, girly-like, mimicking Karla’s hussy voice.
Mel giggled, smothering her laugh with her palm.
He felt a bit lighter. “You have a nice laugh, Mel. You should let it loose.”
Her monotone voice came with a real smile this time. “What work are you going to do? ‘Starlight.’” She breathed out ‘Starlight’ in Karla’s tone, but not quite as well as Brian. He had a gift with that—voices, mannerisms, word choice. He could do Eddie Vedder like a boss.
“Washing dishes, I guess. Then digging ditches.”
“Just rando ditches?” Her brown eyes sparkled, mischievous. She looked happy to not be the only newcomer.
He reached out. “Hey, you’re kinda pretty when you smile.”
“Oh, well.” She took a big step to start up the driveway, but not before reaching out to squeeze his bicep. “And you’re not a skinny as you look. You’ll be a fine dishwashing ditch digger.”
He smiled at Mel. And, once he turned away from his truck, he noticed the ditch creek was kinda pretty, too. A spot he might camp even. The pool’s run-off splashed in the variegated silver culvert, newly dinged thanks to Brian. But below the creek streamed over rocks, tugged at long mossy strips and highlighted mineral hues. Rust iron, sulfur, mica. Something lavender. He’d noticed before that hot springs water refracts light differently—like warbly glass—and wildlife loves it. Even now, a multitude of insects clung to wildflowers licking up little splashes.
(video of a creek Nicole Force, Magical Western)
*
Brian retraced his steps from Day 1 to the lodge’s commercial kitchen, where Seren had patched him up. Mel stayed at the front desk, a folding table next to a bank of windows looking over the driveway and parking spaces.
Seren’s breakfast granola, several pans, and all the ingredients still sat out. The food dehydrator humming in the corner was probably still wrinkling yesterday’s apple slices. The place was a wreck.
Cringing, he tore off the tattered bandage she’d put over his forehead abrasion and trashed it. He rolled up his proverbial sleeves and loaded empty baking sheets into his arms.
Seren appeared at the double doorway in a different pair of cut-offs and button-down over a bikini top. She was paisley pink today. A super long telephone wire, coiled on itself, allowed her to tuck it between head and shoulder. It followed her everywhere, elevator music bleeding out.
She tipped her forehead into the kitchen. “What’re you doing?”
He cranked open the valve on the sink hose. The head bucked and sprayed into the triple sink. He tightened his grip. Sweet! The kitchen was functional, at least. He sprayed off a cookie sheet. Pew pew!!!
“Cleaning your mess!” He grinned over his shoulder at her expression.
Then she smiled, coy, as he turned to the sink. She pulled her hairband out of her ponytail and crept up behind him. He jumped at her soft touch gathering his hair.
He swallowed and let her, trying not to hunch his shoulders or get too excited. He blinked his eyes closed, it felt so good, when she gently pulled all his loose hair and tugged the hairband around it.
“Keep your hair back in the kitchen, Starlight,” she murmured before raising her voice into the receiver, “Hello, yes! This is the Manager at Paradise Lodge. Yes, we do…” She walked out, presumably to the back desk (which was really a repurposed bar), which was just next to the entrance to the pool.
His shoulders and scalp tingled.
*
Mel could hear Brian, a whirlwind, in the kitchen. At a certain point, he started whistling. She was happy for him. Who knew what Sun Valley would have really held for either of them? How many times had she nannied in a resort town only to be treated as the ‘help.’
There was a central bathroom in the lodge, and in it Mel pulled one of Seren’s oversized shirts on top of a size Large, blue and silver lamé one-piece that Seren found in the lost-and-found. Small wonder anything Seren owned fit Mel.
Seren clanked the telephone receiver on the wall hook. “How is it?” She called.
Mel came out guilty. “I don’t know.”
Seren fingered the fringe on her cut-offs. Seren’s button-down was pink paisley coordinated with a functional, size Tiny one-piece that Mel would have killed for.
Mel wiggled, tugging at the bottom. “It’s straight outta the 80’s Ms. Universe Pageant. It’s creeping up my butt. Just look!”
She opened the shirt to expose the plunging front. The whole suit was V-shaped sparkly lines with the main V in front exposing her boobs.
Seren pressed lips into a smile. “I guess things were different back then. It’s just for the weekend. Then we’ll go into town. There’s yoga tonight? In the great room. You’ll like that!”
Mel eyed Seren. “Isn’t that Brian’s room?”
“Oh yeah.” Seren bit her lip.
Just then, a van of people arrived. A big, excited family piled out with beach bags, juggling bottles of sunblock and empty Nalgene bottles they’d fill with spring water. Seren had said they’d do that. As if water from like 80-thousand feet below ground-level was magical tonic. Mel thought it tasted flat. She liked the sparkling better, which was available for purchase in bottles and office-sized jugs, but ya know, whatever floats your boat when you’re the one paying!
“Hello!” Mel winningly took her spot front and center. The reservation book, bigger than a family bible, trunked open. She closed the previous section (did that say 1980?) and started fresh.
Why!—That meant today was opening day! Why didn’t Karla say that when she confided to Mel about her concerns with Seren and Paul? I need someone I can count on. Are you that kind of person, Mel? Karla had spoken low in the trees so just Mel heard her. Yes, Mel said. That was the obvious answer.
Mel took the guests’ names, had them sign waivers, and put their cash in the till, which wasn’t plugged in. Seren said to leave it off for opening day because there might be mistakes they’d have to account for later. Was that one of Karla’s concerns?
Mel couldn’t imagine Seren or Paul taking money, though. They just weren’t the sort. But whatever Karla’s concern, she’d made it clear Mel might stand to gain in position, and pay, if she discovered Paul and Seren weren’t cutting it.
Mel hadn’t decided yet what she thought. She scrubbed her head, loosening her spiky black hair a bit. Afternoon flowed in through her window. She unbuttoned her shirt. A granddad, the last person to come through the door from the family, snuck a peek and winked at her. Men, she rolled her eyes.
Minutes later, a diesel truck roared in with four caterwauling college guys and a cooler of beer (which Karla did permit), a dusty sedan with bandana wrapped girls, then a middle-aged couple in a Jeep with a baby. When people left, they wanted to chat about the “new” hot springs and buy water bottles or items from Karla’s small gift shop. Mel stayed busy.
Seren didn’t get to tell Brian to move his stuff. Or that Thursday night was Community Night when half the town crept from forest cabins for yoga, soaking, and drumming.
He spent the day lugging water jugs and plastic cups from the kitchen to the pool. His head spun with the commotion of laughing, splashing, bathing suits, Marco Polo’s, a broken beer bottle, we need more cups, washing said cups, and everything everything all at once. Only later would he recall a bubbling puddle in the ground capturing his eye when a kid almost stepped in it, and laughing, jumped over instead.
He stayed out of his head and felt like a different person.
No one guessed this young ponytailed man was a brand-spanking new employee, that he was barely 18, or that he had to figure out everything on the fly including ratchetting valves to add more hot water to the pool (in Paul’s absence). He was dying of thirst every time he came out of the sun and glugged spring water right out of a ceramic jug in the kitchen. He would be ready to crash for a good night’s sleep, as soon as he could close the kitchen that evening.
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