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The
Lady of the Night
William Regan stifled a yawn as he eased the Wheelers’ extended cab
Chevrolet 1500 onto the interstate exit ramp.
It was only Tulio Gallardo, a wealthy copper miner from Guadajuato, Mexico, had recently purchased one of Matthew
Wheeler’s thoroughbred horses. Señor Gallardo had
offered to send a trailer from his own stable to pick up the prizewinning
stallion, but Regan had refused. The stubborn groom had insisted upon
delivering the thoroughbred himself to make sure the steed was well-taken
care of during his trip across the country. After Regan convinced his
employer that his love for horses outweighed his hatred of automobiles, Mr.
Wheeler had agreed, and arrangements were made for Jim to care for the
remaining occupants of Wheeler Stables during Regan’s absence. According to the MapQuest program
Margery Trask had used to plan Regan’s journey, the trek from Sleepyside to
Bisbee would take approximately thirty-eight hours. However, hauling the
horse trailer had increased the travel time by several hours. Dan and Mart, desiring an adventure of their
own, had volunteered to accompany Regan to Arizona. Although Regan
preferred to travel alone, he had allowed the two teenage boys to tag along.
If nothing else, Regan had decided, they would provide some entertainment to
break up the monotony of the long trip. With a sigh of relief, Regan carefully navigated the truck and
trailer into the parking lot of the historic hotel where they had
reservations. From the front passenger’s seat, his nephew yawned. “Are we
there yet?” Dan murmured sleepily. “Yep,” Regan replied, “we’re finally here. You’d better wake up
Sleeping Beauty back there.” He pointed his thumb backwards in the direction
of the truck’s third occupant, who was snoring loudly from his spot in the
backseat. With a devilish twinkle in his eyes, Dan hurled the travel
pillow he had been using back at his best friend, aiming right for Mart’s
head. Although the pillow hit its intended target, the airborne assault
didn’t quite have the effect for which Dan was going. Instead of jumping up
in fright, after a moment’s hesitation, the stocky blond merely blinked open
his eyes sleepily and stretched. “Is it time to eat?” were Mart’s predictable first words. “Not till we make sure Lucky is comfortable,” Regan answered.
Lucky was the thoroughbred stallion Señor Gallardo
was purchasing. “You’d rather feed a horse than your own flesh-and-blood
nephew?” Dan clutched his heart so dramatically that even Diana Lynch
would’ve been proud. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like those
horses better than me.” Regan cast the young man a withering glare. “If that were true, I’d be making a
reservation at the hotel for Lucky instead of you, and letting you sleep in the trailer. Besides, I
don’t think you’re in danger of wasting away. Elijah Maypenny feeds you too
good for that.” He turned his attention to Mart. “And in spite of all your
bellyaching, I know you eat Mrs. B out of house and home. Waiting a few more
minutes isn’t going to kill you.” “Well, I don’t think it’d kill that elephant-sized horse back
there to wait, either,” Mart grumbled. “Mart, I’ll tell you what.” Regan’s celery-colored eyes twinkled
with mirth. “When Mr. Wheeler can sell you for $25,000, you can eat first.” “Sorry, dude,” Dan snorted, looking back at his friend. “Only
way you’d get kind of money would be if someone paid you a dollar for every
word you said. And nobody’s that
dumb.” He ducked as Mart threw the pillow back at him. Fearing he would have to
break up a fight, Regan cut in before a full-fledged mêlée broke out.
“Feeding Lucky won’t take long. After I take care of that and you boys get us
checked into our rooms, we’ll rustle up something to eat. Preferably
something not smothered by hot sauce; I’m sick of this spicy food.” “Hot sauce, chocolate sauce, hollandaise sauce…” Mart rattled
off as he yawned. “It all sounds good to me. I’m starved.” “I sure hope Mr. Wheeler upped our per diem once he heard Mart
was coming with us,” Dan snickered. “We may have to use Señor
Gallardo’s check to get home.” “Don’t you worry about that,” Regan answered with a hint of a
smile. “Mr. Wheeler gave us plenty. Now go on and get us checked in. The
sooner we get that taken care of, the sooner we can have supper. I’m going to
tend to Lucky.” A man of few words, the horseman hopped out of the truck without
further discussion. Dan and Mart soon followed, each retrieving their small
suitcases out of either side of the truck’s big metal toolbox. The boys then
went inside the historic Copper Queen Hotel, both slowing down to admire the
grand structure, which had been constructed in 1902. Once they entered the building and walked through the foyer,
Mart shivered. “You cold?” Dan asked. “A little.” “How can you be cold?” Dan raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“It’s like three hundred degrees outside.” “I don’t know,” Mart murmured, rubbing his bare forearms in an
effort to get rid of his goose bumps. “I just took a chill.” “Weird,” Dan commented absentmindedly. The discussion ended as
they approached the front desk and inquired about their reservations. The elderly lady attending the desk proved to be quite helpful.
After a few hasty taps on the computer keyboard, she handed them the
card-like keys for each room. “Here you go,” she replied cheerfully. “This
one’s for the John Wayne Room and this one’s for the Julia Lowell Room.” “Thanks.” Dan crammed the cards into the back pocket of his
tight, black jeans. “So, which of you will be staying in the Julia Lowell Room?” the
woman inquired curiously, an odd smile turning the corners of her lips
upward. “My uncle has dibs on the room John Wayne stayed in,” Dan answered.
“I guess me and my friend here will be stuck sharing the other one. I hope
it’s big enough for the two of us.” “It’ll be fine,” the lady replied. “That’s one of our most
sought-after rooms, you know.” “No, we didn’t know that,” Mart told her. “But if it’s as
neat-looking as this lobby, I can see why. This place is awesome. I feel like
I’m on the set of ‘Bonanza’.” The desk clerk’s smile remained firmly in place. “Yes, this
place certainly has the atmosphere of an old western. Is there anything else
I can do for you?” “Could you point us in the direction of the restaurant?” Mart
questioned with a grin. “The hotel has
one, doesn’t it?” The woman nodded. “Yes, it does. You can dine inside or al
fresco.” “I’ll dine alfredo, just as long as
you give me some food,” Mart quipped. The lady’s smile became an open grin as she beheld the two
attractive teenagers. “Enjoy your stay here. I certainly hope it proves to be
interesting.” “I’m sure it will.” Dan picked up his suitcase and turned away.
“Thanks.” “Boys?” Dan and Mart turned to look back at the old woman. Once
she had their attention, she continued. “Be sure to keep the covers wrapped
tightly around your toes.” “O-kay,” Mart stammered, narrowing his
eyes slightly. As he and Dan left the foyer, he whispered, “What a weird
thing to say.” “Don’t worry about it, Hoss,” Dan
teased. “Hoss?” “You said that you
felt like you were on ‘Bonanza’,” Dan explained with a grin. “I just assumed
you were a ‘Hoss’ kind of guy.” “I’ll be Little Joe,”
Mart declared indignantly, “you can
be Hoss.” “No, I’ll be Little Joe, and you can be Heath,” Dan offered. “Heath was on ‘Big Valley’, not ‘Bonanza’,” Mart corrected. “Whatever.” The boys found their third-floor room easily. A gold plaque with
the words “The Julia Lowell Room” etched in black was hung on the outside of
the door, greeting visitors. Dan used one of the cards to unlock the door,
and the young men appraised their digs for the next two nights. The Julia Lowell Room was decorated much differently than the
lobby. While the entrance of the hotel had a masculine style, this room had
once clearly belonged to a woman. The décor was quite feminine, not keeping
with the western theme of the rest of the hotel at all. A pink and white
flowered bedspread covered the bed, lacy throw pillows framing the head. The
furniture looked to be from the early 1900’s and included a white, wrought
iron bed, a nightstand, a lady’s dressing table, a mauve settee, and an
armoire which contained the television.
Once the boys stepped
through the doorway, they both shivered from a mysterious icy breeze coming
from inside the room. “Now I’m cold,” Dan
complained as he set down his suitcase. “Check the air conditioner,” Mart suggested. “Maybe the last
occupant turned it up too high.” Dan walked over to the air conditioning unit by the window, and
then shook his head quizzically as he appraised the temperature setting.
“It’s not the air conditioner; it’s been turned off. Man, that’s strange.” “Dude, we’ve got worse problems than that.” Mart’s expression
was almost as grim as his tone. “What’s wrong?” Dan inquired, his brows creased with worry at
his friend’s grimace. “There’s only one bed in here,” Mart announced dourly. “One bed?!” Dan exclaimed. His onyx-colored gaze fell on the
queen-sized bed in the middle of the room before looking back up at Mart. “I
just assumed that there was another bedroom behind that door there.” Silently, Mart opened the door in question. After peeking
inside, he shook his head sadly. “That’s the bathroom.” “They don’t expect us to sleep in the same bed, do they?” Dan
spat out. “You got me.” Mart sighed heavily. “I don’t want to sleep with you!” Dan cried in disgust. “Take it easy, Mr. Desirable.” Mart gave an exaggerated roll of
his eyes. “Sharing a bed with you hasn’t exactly been on my ‘Top 1,000 Things
To Do’ list, either. I’m not one of your little black jacket groupies.” “What’re we supposed to do? Draw straws?” Dan proposed. “Long
straw gets the bed, short straw gets the tub?” “No,” Mart said with a determined shake of his head. Suddenly,
his expression brightened. “Hey, how big is Regan’s room?” Dan shrugged his broad shoulders. “I dunno.
Why?” “Well, if it’s a double, maybe he’ll switch with us.” “Yeah, right!” Dan snorted loudly. “If you think he’ll stay in
this pink, flowery room instead of the one where the Duke slept, you’re
crazy. John Wayne is Uncle Bill’s idol; he’ll probably quit his job in
Sleepyside and move here.” “Then maybe one of us can stay in his room with him and the
other one can stay here,” Mart suggested. “Be my guest.” Dan grinned evilly. “But be sure and pack your
earplugs. Uncle Bill snores louder than a hibernating grizzly bear.” “I know what to do,” Mart said with a decisive nod. “I’ll just
call the front desk and ask if they have another room.” Dan looked at his friend admiringly. “Now that just might work. Good thinking.” Mart picked up the phone and pushed the button for the front
desk. “Uh, yeah, this is room 315 and I was wondering if you had any more
rooms available.” He paused momentarily, and then continued. “No, there isn’t
anything wrong with the room, I mean, besides the girlie bedspread. It’s just
that there’s only one bed and there are two of us… Well, yeah, it’s a big
bed, but me and my friend really don’t want to share
it… Oh, I see. Thanks anyway.” Mart groaned loudly as he hung up the
receiver. “No luck?” Dan asked. Mart shook his head. “Nope. They’re booked up solid. Not a
single room left. Guess we’ll have to work out something else.” He paused
briefly, steepling his fingers in a thoughtful
position. “But what shall we do?” “I don’t know. Hatching big plans is usually your whacky
sister’s department,” Dan answered with a shrug. “You got any ideas?” “Maybe.” Mart paused dramatically for a third time, and then
challenged as quickly as he could, “Last one to the bed sleeps on the couch!”
Before he had gotten the word “couch” out of his mouth, Mart had already
begun sprinting towards the bed. However, Dan’s catlike reflexes prohibited
the husky blond from getting too much of a head start. Although Mart was
brawnier, Dan was wiry and quick. Dan immediately caught up with his friend,
and the two leaped on the bed at the same time, making the ancient bedsprings
creak due to the sudden addition of weight. “I win!” Mart yelled triumphantly. “Nuh-uh!” Dan hollered, trying to
shove Mart off the bed in an effort to claim it for himself. “I was here
first!” “Were not!” Mart argued loudly, giving a push of his own. It wasn’t long before the two friends began scuffling, neither
wanting to renounce their spot on the comfortable bed. They frantically
rolled around until Mart was able to push Dan off the edge. However, Dan took
his friend with him, and both boys landed in a heap on the floor. Their wrestling had been so loud that neither had heard the loud
banging from the hallway on their door. Once they were on the floor, the air
knocked out of both them, they jumped at the noisy thuds echoing against the
solid oak door. “What’s going on in there?” Regan yelled from the other side of the
door. “If you don’t let me in, I’m gonna break this
door down!” Dan quickly stood and, after he had gotten his bearings,
scrambled to the door and let his uncle inside. “What in the Sam hill is going on in here?” Regan demanded, his
green eyes blazing. “I could hear you two monkeys from down the hall!” “There’s only one bed,” Dan answered with a sheepish grin. “We
were fighting to see who got it.” “Well, next time flip a coin,” Regan snapped. He put his freckled
hands on his hips and glared at his two charges. “I was waiting in the lobby
for my key while you two nincompoops were fooling around. I thought you were
hungry, but obviously I was mistaken!” “We are hungry,” Mart
quickly confirmed, rising to his feet and brushing off his jeans. “Can we go
eat now?” “After I drop my suitcase off in my room.” Regan narrowed his
gaze at his nephew. “I did get the
John Wayne Room, right?” “Sure did,” Dan replied. “Although if you’d rather sleep in the
Pepto-Bismol Suite, we’d be willing to switch…” Regan snorted in response. “I’ll sleep in this pink-floweredy-mess the same time the devil needs to buy
ice-skates. Now, c’mon. I’m hungry, and you know how cantankerous I get when
I need to eat.” It took a fraction of a second for Mart to cross the room and be
waiting at the door with the others. “What’re we waiting for?” He looked over
at Dan. “You got the keys, right?” Dan patted his pocket. With a frown, he pulled out only one
card. “Here’s the one for your room, Uncle Bill.” He handed the key to Regan.
“The other one must’ve fallen out when me and Mart
were wrestling. You two go on and I’ll catch up with you in the lobby.” “Sounds good to me,” Mart agreed, opening the door. “Kicking
Dan’s butt gave me an appetite.” “Don’t fiddle around, Dan,” Regan ordered impatiently. He led
the way out to the hallway, a ravenous Mart following closely behind. Alone in the hotel room, Dan rummaged around until he had the
key to the Julia Lowell Room in his possession. Once it was safely tucked
away in his back pocket, he walked over to the door and walked through the
threshold. He started to pull the door closed behind him, but a faint whisper
from inside stopped his progress. His brow furrowed in confusion, he opened
the door just a crack and peered back in the room. There was nobody there. Dismissing the noise to his overactive imagination, he pulled
the door shut all the way and went to find his uncle and best friend.
“I don’t care what you say,” Mart argued, pausing for a moment
to lick the last bit of cheesecake off his fork. “I’m not sleeping with Dan.” “And I’m not sleeping
with Mart,” Dan insisted grumpily. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Regan sighed. “That bed’s
plenty big enough for the both of you.” “But we might…” —Mart made a face of repugnance— “touch each other in our sleep. I mean,
not on purpose or anything, but accidentally.” “Who cares?” Regan asked with a snort. “You’d be asleep!” “But that’s so… weird.”
Dan grimaced painfully. “Guys just don’t sleep together, Uncle Bill. You
should know that.” “Some guys do,” Regan
commented in an offhand manner, his eyes twinkling evilly. Dan shot his uncle a dirty look. “But guys like me and Mart
don’t.” “Just this once won’t kill you,” Regan blustered. “I won’t tell
any of the Bob-Whites back home, if that’s what you’re worried about.” “No, I’m worried about bleeding to death in the middle of the
night. Have you seen Dan’s toenails?” Mart demanded to know. “They look like
Lee Press-On Nails! He’ll cut my shins up!” “And Mart takes up the whole bed!” Dan pointed out. “I’ve seen
the way he sprawls out when he sleeps. He’ll probably think I’m Di and try to
snuggle with me!” Regan sighed wearily. “If you two boys are that worried about
your masculinity, then one of you sleep in the bed,
and the other sleep on the little couch.” “But that’s not fair!” Mart argued. “That little pink couchie-thing looks like something you’d find in Barbie’s
Dream House! A real man couldn’t sleep on that rinky-dink excuse for a sofa.” “Then flip a coin for it,” Regan suggested brusquely. It was
clear that he was quickly losing his patience. “Winner gets the bed tonight,
and then tomorrow night you can switch.” “That might work.” Dan
wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. “What do you think, Mart?” Mart shrugged his shoulders. “Guess that’ll have to do.” “Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m going outside to check on
Lucky,” Regan said. “What time is Señor Gallardo getting
here?” Dan questioned. “Sometime in the early afternoon,” Regan replied. “After he leaves,
I thought we might head into Tombstone and check out some of the sights.” “That’d be neat,” Mart commented excitedly. “I’d love to go to
the OK Corral. I heard it’s haunted.” “Don’t be so gullible, Mart.” Regan picked up the bill and then
stood. “Don’t you boys know that ghosts aren’t real?” “You never know,” Mart said with a grin. “There are a lot of
weird, unexplained things in the world.” “You’re too much like your sister,” Regan told him. “You boys
behave yourself, hear? After I make sure Lucky’s
okay, I’m going on up to my room and hit the hay. I’m pooped.” “What? We aren’t allowed to wrestle?” Mart teased. Regan shot
the middle Belden boy a threatening glare, which only served to make both
Mart and Dan laugh. “Don’t know why I let those kids tag along,” Regan muttered to
himself as he left the restaurant. “I’d better make an appointment with Dr.
Ferris to get my head examined when I get back to Sleepyside.” Regan had no reason to worry. Exhausted from the long week of
traveling, Dan and Mart went straight to their room. An hour later, they had
each showered and shaved. Although they had refused to sleep in the same bed,
neither had a problem with reclining in bed together as they watched
television. Dan’s eyes grew heavy as Mart flipped rapidly back and forth
through the sixty channels offered. “There’s nothing on,” Mart grumbled as he changed channels at
warp speed. “How do you know?” Dan questioned, stifling a yawn. “You don’t
stop long enough at one channel to see what’s on.” “Women browse; men flip. I’m a man; therefore, I flip,” Mart
retorted. He groaned loudly as he once again ran out of channels. “There’s
nothing on but a bunch of chick shows. Even ESPN is showing ice-skating.” No reply came from Dan’s side of the bed. “
‘Sleepless in Seattle’, ‘Steel Magnolias’, ‘Gilmore Girls’, ‘Designing
Women’,” Mart recited as he came to each one. “Crap, crap, crap, and more
crap. What do you want to watch?” A soft snore came from the other side of the bed. “Dan?” Mart reached over and nudged his friend. “You asleep?” Dan jerked awake. “Huh? You say something?” “Never mind,” Mart said with a smile. He grabbed one of the
pillows as well as the spread from off the bed and tossed them on the settee.
“Go back to sleep, Dan-o.” “Okay,” Dan murmured, obeying Mart’s request even as he spoke. Mart gave a dramatic sigh as he placed his pillow at one end of
the small couch. “Sure isn’t much room here,” he complained forlornly. He
glanced over at his best friend who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Bet my feet’ll hang off.” A whistling sound closely resembling a snore escaped Dan’s lips. Heaving another noisy exhale, Mart climbed onto the settee,
pulling the blanket over his body. “This thing sure is lumpy.” He made sure
to speak loudly so that Dan could hear him. “Not very comfortable at all.” He glanced over at Dan, who by this time was sleeping soundly.
However, this didn’t discourage Mart. He shifted around noisily on the narrow
sofa, moaning as his stocky form attempted to find a spot that wasn’t so
uncomfortable. Growing more frustrated by the minute, he began thrashing
around, kicking his legs and flailing his arms. This only served to make his
lose his balance and fall onto the floor. From his vantage point on the floor, Mart looked up at the bed.
Dan was still sleeping peacefully. Grumbling, Mart picked up the bedspread
and climbed precariously back onto the settee. “Lucky dog,” Mart muttered grumpily as he tried to relax.
At He looked over at Mart; in spite of the fact that his body was
contorted in an awkward position, his best friend was fast asleep. He studied
Mart for a moment or so, knowing that nobody could play possum better than
the middle Belden boy. However, Mart seemed to be genuinely asleep. Finding nothing suspicious, Dan lay back down and tried to get
comfortable. Realizing that his toes were cold, he reached down and spread
the blanket over his feet, making sure they were totally covered. Weary, he
closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
“Wake up, my love.” Dan sat up in bed as a cold breeze wafted through the dark room.
Shivering, he looked down at the foot of the bed. Once again his toes were
uncovered. I must be moving around a lot in my sleep, he decided. Sighing
sleepily, he got out of bed and found another quilt in the bottom drawer of
the armoire. He climbed back into bed, and then spread the quilt over his
legs. This time, he made sure the blankets were tucked firmly beneath his
heels.
“Don’t waste our time together by
sleeping, darling.” Dan jolted awake, his heart beating a mile a minute. His mouth
dry, he tried to muster some saliva with which he could lick his lips. Almost
too afraid to move, he glanced nervously over at his friend. “M-m-mart?” he
barely squeaked out. Hearing no response, he cleared his throat. “Mart? Did you say
something?” The only sound from the settee was the sound of smacking lips, a
noise Mart often made in his sleep. Now wide awake, Dan looked all around for something he could use
as a weapon just in case an intruder had broken into their room. However,
unless a wallet, some loose change, or a pack of gum could be used
defensively, he was in trouble. Gathering his courage, he whispered loudly, “Is somebody in here?” Once again, the room grew icy. The hairs on the back of Dan’s
neck stood up as a creepy feeling surrounded him. Inexplicably, his attention
was drawn to the foot of the bed. Right before his eyes, the blankets at the foot of the bed were
bunched up by an invisible hand and suddenly thrown back, revealing Dan’s
feet. Frozen in fear, he held his breath as something lightly tickled his
toes. He remained motionless as the caressing of his feet continued.
Suddenly, the tickling ceased, but as soon as it did, Dan felt someone blow
in his ear. “There’s no need to be afraid, my love,” the voice whispered. “I only want to please you.” Dan gulped loudly. He wanted to pretend that he had only
imagined the voice, but as sure as he was alive, he knew that what he heard
was real. Although he wanted to throw the covers over his head and hide, he
knew he had to find out who, or what,
was speaking to him. Closing his eyes tightly, Dan turned his head in the direction
from which the noise had come. Almost in slow motion, he set his jaw and then
opened his eyes. And suddenly, he was face to face with something not of this
world. The vaporous form of a woman clad in an old-fashioned saloon
girl’s dress floated beside the bed. Her eyes were beguiling as she looked
down upon him; her lips were pursed, almost as if she was preparing to kiss
him. One hand lingered on the strap of her dress, while the other was
reaching out to Dan. Shuddering with fright, Dan jumped up from the bed and raced
into the bathroom. With trembling hands, he first flipped on the light
switch, and then locked the door behind him. Once that was done, he climbed
into the claw foot tub, pulling the shower curtain around him like a force
field. A flash of guilt passed through
Dan as he realized he had left Mart alone, but he found himself rooted to
spot, frozen in fear. He spent the rest of the night crossing himself, whispering Hail Marys
and every other form of prayer he had ever learned.
The jarring ring of the telephone woke Mart the next morning. He
groaned as he struggled to get up from the settee. Rubbing the crick in his
neck, he picked up the receiver. “Yeah?” “Mart, I just heard from Señor
Gallardo,” Regan said on the other line. “He’s ahead of schedule and should be
here around ten this morning. I thought we could go grab some breakfast, and
after he leaves, we could go on to Tombstone.” “Sounds good to me,” Mart answered sleepily. “Is Dan awake?” Noticing the empty bed, Mart answered, “Well, he’s not in bed,
so he must be in the bathroom. Wanna talk to him? I
can get him for you.” “Nah, that’s okay,” Regan told him. “I just wanted to make sure
he was up. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at “All right.” Mart hung up the phone and walked over to the
bathroom. He knocked on the door. “Dan? You in there?” Hearing no response, Mart bent down. Through the crack under the
door, he saw the light was on in the bathroom. He knocked again, this time a
bit louder. “Dan? You okay?” From inside the tub, Dan’s eyes opened. Panic flitted through
him until he recognized the familiar voice of his best friend. “I-I’m fine,”
he called, his voice quavering. “We’re meeting Regan for breakfast in half an hour,” Mart told
him. “That okay with you?” “Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.” “No problem,” Mart called. Footsteps from the other side of the door told Dan that Mart had
walked away. Dan took a deep breath as he climbed out of the tub. After
turning on the cold water at the sink, he splashed his face. He watched the
water swirling down the drain, wishing it could take the memories of last
night with it.
“Hope our food gets here soon,” Mart commented. “I’m starving.” “How’d I know you were going to say that?” Regan questioned with
a wry grin. He looked over curiously
at his nephew. “He’s a bit predictable, isn’t he?” Dan stared silently into his drained coffee mug as if it held
the secrets of the universe. Raising his coppery brows slightly, Regan nudged Dan’s arm.
“Hey, you awake there, Danny Boy?” Dan jumped at the sound of his name. His gaze flitted from
Regan, to Mart, and then back to Regan. Still, he remained silent. “Gee whiz, Dan,” Regan muttered. “You look like you’ve seen a
ghost.” “What do you mean by that?” Dan asked in a husky voice. “I just meant that you’re pale,” Regan replied, shrugging his
shoulders. “You feeling okay?” “I’m fine.” A waitress carrying a coffeepot came over to their table.
“Anyone want a refill?” “Please,” Regan replied, holding up his now-empty mug. “You boys stay here last night?” the waitress inquired. “Sure did,” Regan answered. “Which room?” The waitress moved over to Dan and poured more
coffee into his cup. “Well, I had the
privilege of staying in the Duke’s room,” Regan said proudly. “I woke up
feeling manlier than ever.” The waitress laughed. “How about you boys? Which room did you
stay in?” “Some pink room,” Mart answered with a snarl. “Needless to say,
I didn’t wake up feeling manly.” “Pink room?” the waitress repeated. “Are you talking about the
Julia Lowell Room?” “Yeah, that’s it,” Mart said, nodding. The waitress cocked an eyebrow. “Did you see her?” “See who?” Regan asked. “Julia Lowell.” The waitress set the coffeepot on the table,
obviously preparing to stay at their table for a while. “She visits often,
you know.” “That’s nice,” Mart commented absentmindedly, his thoughts on
his growling belly. “Does she work here?” “She did.” The waitress leaned down and assumed a conspiratorial
tone. “Until she killed herself.” The drink of coffee that Dan had just taken shot through the
air. Choking, he looked up in surprise at the waitress. “What did you say?” “Julia Lowell worked here at the Copper Queen until her death,”
the waitress explained. “But you said that she still visits,” Mart pointed out, his
curiosity piqued. “She does. Or to be more precise, her spirit visits the hotel.” The waitress sat down in the empty
chair at the table. “Julia Lowell was what you would call a lady of the
night.” “A hooker?” Regan’s coppery brows raised
with interest. The waitress nodded. “She was a prostitute in the Copper Queen,
and she stayed in the pink room.” “Yuck,” Mart muttered. “Hope they cleaned it good.” Ignoring the teenager’s comment, the waitress continued her
story. “She liked men, especially married
men. She fell in love with one in particular. When he refused to leave his
wife and marry her, Julia was so heartbroken that she committed suicide.
However, her spirit never left the Copper Queen.” Regan chuckled. “That’s a good story to draw in business, but
you can’t possibly expect us to believe that her ghost lives here.” “I don’t care whether you believe it or not,” the waitress said
with a shrug. “But it’s true. Julia Lowell’s ghost haunts this hotel. And
hers isn’t the only one, either. This place is full of spirits who haven’t
found rest. There’s Rose who worked in the lobby, and there’s the little boy,
Billy, whose mother was a maid here when he drowned. Those of us who work
here see them all the time.” Dan cleared his throat nervously. “What does Julia supposedly do
when she… uhhh… visits her room?” “Depends on her mood and who’s in the bed,” the waitress said.
“If a woman’s in the room, Julia rarely decides to make an appearance.
However, if an attractive man is in her bed, she’ll do all she can to get his
attention.” Mart gulped loudly. “L-l-like what?” “Well, for some reason, Julia likes to tickle men’s toes,” the
waitress announced matter-of-factly. “Male visitors often wake up in the
middle of the night with cold feet.” For some reason, that struck Regan and Mart as hilarious. The
two laughed loudly; however, Dan didn’t find the statement nearly as
humorous. “Maybe those guys were just in a deep sleep and don’t remember
kicking the covers off the bed,” Regan offered. “It’s going to take more than
a case of chilly toes to convince me this place is haunted.” “What else does she do?” Dan asked in a quavering voice,
ignoring his uncle’s cynicism. “Several men have been woken up by a woman whispering,” the
waitress added. “That’s probably just the wind,” Mart dismissed. “A few guests have
seen her,” the waitress told them. “How do you explain that?” “Sounds like somebody ate too many tacos before bed,” Regan said
with a grin. The waitress merely smiled. Skeptics often frequented the Copper
Queen. More often than not, by the time these guests checked out, they became
believers in the paranormal. “Ma’am, what does Julia’s ghost look like?” Dan questioned. “Dan!” Regan exclaimed. “Surely you don’t buy into this bunk!” The waitress cast the husky redhead a condescending glance
before turning her attention to the dark-headed teenager. “Usually, she’s
like the mist, floating around as she pleases. When she decides to make an
appearance to one of our guests, she takes a vaporous form. Not solid, but
clearly a woman. If she really likes a man, she’s even been known to
partially undress for him.” “No way!” Mart’s eyes bugged out of his head, and he almost
spilled his orange juice as he slapped the table in surprise. The waitress nodded, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “So you’d
better be careful, boys. I wouldn’t be surprised if Julia showed up tonight.” “Eugenia!” A hulking
Native American man who served as host for the restaurant came up behind the
group. “We don’t pay you to chat with guests. I think this table’s order is
up, so get busy.” “Yes sir.” The waitress quickly stood to her feet. After
grabbing her coffeepot, she whispered, “Keep your toes covered, boys,” before
hustling to the kitchen. “What a crackpot,” Regan muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.
“I can’t believe people actually buy into that bunch of malarkey.” Dan sat silently in his chair. He knew exactly why people
believed Eugenia’s stories. He’d met Julia firsthand.
After a busy day of sightseeing, Regan, Dan, and Mart returned
to the Copper Queen that evening. In preparation for their trip home the
following morning, they ate an early supper and went to their rooms, much to
Dan’s dismay. He was quite apprehensive about returning to Julia’s quarters. Dan sighed wearily as he retrieved the card key from his pocket.
Before he slid it into the slot to unlock the door, he turned to his best
friend. “You sure you want to go to bed now? After all, the night’s still
young.” “True, but your slave driver uncle is getting us up at dark
o’clock to leave for home,” Mart pointed out. “I need my beauty sleep.” “Aw, c’mon,” Dan urged. “We can sleep in the truck tomorrow.
Don’t you want to walk around outside?” “Not really.” Desperate, Dan resorted to playing upon Mart’s weaknesses. “Wanna go get something out of the vending machines? My
treat.” Mart shook his head. “Nah, I’m still too full from dinner. Two
pieces of blueberry pie for dessert may’ve been too many. Now, open the
door.” Dan reluctantly opened the door and went inside. The creepy
feeling that had been present when they entered the room yesterday was
absent, so he prayed there wouldn’t be any paranormal activity during the
night. While Mart was in the shower, Dan warily searched every nook and
cranny of the room for anything unusual. When it was his own turn to shower,
he washed his body and hair as quickly as possible, not wanting to be alone
any longer than necessary. At bedtime, Mart tossed a pillow and the bedspread onto the
settee. “Hope you sleep on that thing better than I did,” he snickered. “I’m sure I’ll sleep better tonight than I did last night,” Dan
commented quietly. “Who knows?” Mart queried with an impish grin, oblivious to
Dan’s fearfulness. “Maybe we’ll get a visit from Julia Lowell herself.” “That’s not funny, Mart,” Dan snapped angrily. “What?” Mart shrugged his shoulders apathetically. “Surely you
aren’t afraid of a hooking ghost with a foot fetish?!” “Shhh!” hissed Dan. “You don’t want
her to hear you!” “She’s not even real!” Mart clutched his stomach and hooted with
laughter. “You’re really afraid, aren’t you?” Dan walked over to his friend and pointed his index finger close
to Mart’s face. “You bet I am. And you would be, too, if you’d seen what I
did last night.” “What’d you see?” Mart asked doubtfully in an attempt to humor
Dan. “I saw her,” Dan
choked out. “I saw Julia Lowell.” Mart shook his head in disbelief. “Dude, that isn’t funny. Quit
yanking my chain.” “I’m not kidding, Mart,” Dan whispered huskily. “Last night I
saw Julia’s ghost.” Mart opened his mouth to speak, but strangely, nothing came out.
After taking a deep breath, he tried again. “You’re just trying to scare me
so you can have the bed. Well, it won’t work. It’s your turn to sleep on that
lumpy, skinny couch, and that’s that. And no ghost story is going to make me
give up my warm and cozy bed.” Dan clutched his friend’s arm. “I’m not trying to scare you, Mart. I’m telling the truth. I swear on
a stack of Bibles.” Mart’s brow furrowed as he listened to Dan. Although he hated to
admit it, Dan sounded honest. Frighteningly
honest. “I know you think I’m crazy,” Dan continued, his voice
trembling. “But I swear that I saw her.” “Okay, I believe you,” Mart finally said. Dan sighed in relief.
“Tell me what happened.” After the pair moved to the settee and sat down, Dan began his
story. “I woke up twice last night, and every time, the room had a creepy
feeling. When I tried to go back to sleep, I noticed my feet were cold. I
thought I was just wiggling around a lot and kicking off the covers. But the
second time, I made sure to tuck the blankets down under my feet so they
couldn’t come off as easily.” Mart nodded, totally engrossed in his friend’s tale. “Go on.” “Well, after I had fallen back asleep, a voice woke me up. I
thought it was you, but you were conked out. All of a sudden, the room grew
icy cold, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I looked down at
the foot of the bed and, for no reason at all, the covers
bunched up like someone was holding them, but nobody was there! “Whatever was pulling on the blankets exposed my feet, and then
I felt someone tickling my toes. Then, just as quickly as it began, the
tickling stopped, and I heard someone whisper in my ear. Although I was
totally freaked out of my flippin’ mind, I turned
my head and saw…” Dan paused to take a breath. “What’d you see?!” urged Mart excitedly. Dan swallowed a large lump that had risen in his throat. “I saw
a woman, but she wasn’t a normal woman. She looked like she was made out of
fog. She was wearing a dress like the ones saloon girls in the old westerns
wore, and she was sort of smiling at me.” “Did she take off her top?” Mart prodded. “No!” Dan spat out. “You’re so immature.” “What happened then?” Mart prompted, brushing off Dan’s insult. “She was reaching out to touch me,” Dan said with a shiver. “I
bolted out of the bed and ran into the bathroom.” “The bathroom?” Mart couldn’t contain his amused grin. Dan smiled sheepishly. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” “Dude, that’s the first place chicks go,” Mart teased in an
attempt to lighten the mood. “What would you’ve done?” “Crapped my pants,” Mart admitted wryly. “So what do we do now?” Dan shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I guess we’ll have to go to
sleep eventually.” “Okay,” Mart said with a nod. After clearing his throat, he
added, “You sleep in the bed, and I’ll just crash on the sofa-thing again.” “Yeah, right,” Dan disagreed with a snort. “It’s your turn to
sleep in the bed.” “But I can’t sleep in the bed,” Mart argued. “My overwhelming
masculinity will be too tempting for Julia to pass up! She’ll be tickling my
toes and stripping down in no time!” “That’s just a chance you’ll have to take.” Dan gave a hardy
shove to his unsuspecting friend, making Mart land on the floor. “Now get out
of my bed. I’m tired.” “But you two are already acquainted,” Mart stammered. “I’d hate
to break up the beginnings of a beautiful relationship.” Dan cast his friend a withering glare. “Hardy-har-har. You’re a riot. Now go away.” “Hey, wait a minute.” Mart assumed an indignant expression,
making him look frighteningly like his almost-twin. “When you ran away to the
john last night, you left me out here alone. You know I’m dead to the world
when I’m asleep. That ghost could’ve had her evil way with me, and I would’ve
been helpless.” “That was a chance I was willing to take,” Dan retorted dryly. “Dude, you could’ve at least woken me up and taken me to the
bathroom with you!” Mart stormed. “What are you, a girl or something?” Dan queried, a mischievous
smile wiggling at the corners of his lips. “We’re manly men, or don’t you
remember? We don’t go to the bathroom together.” Mart huffed loudly, glaring up at his friend. “Well, in this
instance, I would’ve made an exception. This
manly man doesn’t need some whacked-out ghoulfriend.
I’m a one woman man, preferably a living
woman. And I’m a good friend, too.
I wouldn’t have left you out
there to fend for yourself.” Ignoring his friend’s tirade, Dan closed his eyes and lay back
on his pillow. “You aren’t actually going to sleep tonight, are you?” Mart inquired, his tone incredulous. “I might as well try,” Dan told him. “Aren’t you afraid?” “I was,” Dan admitted. “But then I thought of something. She
didn’t bother you last night when you were sleeping on the couch. Maybe she
just bugs the guys who are in her bed.” Mart gulped loudly. “Unfortunately, that makes sense. I don’t
suppose you could be bribed to switch places with me?” “Nope.” Dan gave a swift kick to Mart’s backside. “Now go away
before Julia starts looking for you.” Grumbling about the injustice of his predicament, Mart stalked
over to the bed. After fastidiously tucking the remaining blankets under the
mattress, he got on the floor and peeked under the bed. Finding nothing there
besides dust bunnies, he switched off the light and climbed into bed. “Dan?” “Yeah?” “You asleep?” Dan sighed. “If I were asleep, would I be talking to you?” “Buddy, can I ask you a favor?” “What?” “Will you sleep with me?” Mart squeaked out. “And I mean that in
a totally heterosexual way, of course.” “Mart, just go to sleep,” Dan groaned. “I can’t,” Mart insisted. “Every time I close my eyes I think I
feel the covers move.” “Just think about something else,” Dan suggested with a yawn.
“Think about Di.” “I’ll try.” Several minutes passed, and just when Dan thought Mart had
fallen asleep, a bloodcurdling scream came from the general vicinity of the
bed. “Something touched me!” Mart shrieked. Gasping for breath, he
added, “Oh, wait, it was just my other foot.” Dan moaned and covered his head with the pillow. “Dan?” “What?!” “If anything happens to me, will you tell Di that I loved her
more than I loved Moms’ Dutch apple pie?” “Dude, if you don’t shut your pie hole, Julia won’t get a chance
to hurt you because I’ll kill you
first!” Dan exploded. “Fine,” Mart stated indignantly. “Just go to sleep. By all
means, don’t stay up all night worrying that I’ll be molested by some weirdo
ghost.” “That’s the plan,” Dan mumbled, awkwardly stretching out his
wiry form on the uncompromising settee. “I’m sure Dad can take out a loan to pay for all the therapy
I’ll need when we get home,” Mart continued in his most pitiful voice. “If I get home, that is. But there’s no
need for you to be concerned.” “I’m not,” Dan promised sleepily, closing his eyes to begin a
restful slumber. “And who knows,” Mart added. “Maybe Julia won’t bother me. Maybe she just has a thing for you and
will leave me alone. Stranger things have happened.” Instantly, Dan’s eyes opened. He hated to admit it, but there
was a good chance Mart was correct; maybe Julia did have a thing for him and would leave Mart alone. Dan’s eyes
flitted throughout the room, searching for any sign of ghostly activity. A flash of heat lightning illuminated the room briefly, casting
an eerie glow on all the walls. With a terrified shriek, Dan bounded from the
settee, leapt across the floor, jumped on the bed, hopped over Mart, and
burrowed under the covers beside his friend. Mart, who had been just as frightened as Dan, didn’t seem to
mind. He casually scooted over a bit closer to his friend. “D-d-dude? Can you
f-f-feel the bed sh-shaking?” “S-sorry, man,” Dan stammered, his teeth chattering from fear. “Th-that’s just m-m-me trembling.”
Eventually, sleep won its hard-fought battle with Dan and Mart.
So deep was their slumber that they remained blissfully unaware of the sudden
change of temperature. A hazy mist rolled in the room, finally collecting at
the foot of the bed. The vague shape of a woman materialized, her body still
shrouded by the ethereal fog. She hovered motionless, merely gazing wistfully at the
blond-haired man lying on the left side of the bed. The apparition’s hollow
eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness, enabling her to longingly study
his rugged features. Her most humanlike quality was the glowing red rope
marks around her neck; evidence of her suicide had followed Julia into the
afterlife. Through the mist, her delicately-boned hand reached out and
grasped the blankets covering Mart’s feet. “Tell me what you like.” At the head of the bed, a pair of china blue eyes opened widely.
Sensing something wasn’t quite right, Mart’s breathing became shallow. His
limbs remained motionless, the only movement being his chest rising up and
down. When he exhaled, the frigid temperature caused him to see his breath.
Afraid to speak, he patted Dan’s arm. His friend jerked awake suddenly,
instantly aware that they were no longer alone. Dan tilted his head in the direction of the foot of the bed, and
Mart nodded slowly in response. “What should we do?” Mart asked in his lowest voice. “Run,” Dan mouthed. “But I don’t think my legs will work,” Mart whimpered softly.
Suddenly, his eyes widened and his mouth formed a grimace. “Dude, did you
just touch my toe?” Dan gave a slight shake to his head. “No.” “In the immortal words of the great Shaggy Rogers— ‘Zoinks’,” Mart shuddered. “I’ve got an idea,” Dan whispered. “On the count of three, we’ll
both jump out of bed and run like banshees for the hallway.” “Dan, I don’t think I can move.” “Well, then I’ll grab you by the scruff of the neck and drag you
behind me,” Dan told him. “Are you with me?” “I guess so,” Mart answered, stifling a chuckle. At Dan’s stern
look, he explained, “I can’t help it. She’s still tickling my feet!” With a roll of his eyes,
Dan began counting, “One, two—” However, before he could finish his countdown, the fog vanished
from the foot of the bed and suddenly rematerialized where the boys’ heads
were. Frozen with fear, Mart and Dan watched as the mist collected, forming a
full-bodied apparition. The ghostly figure floated above them in a horizontal
position, her hollow eyes almost trying to draw them into her world. “Stay with me,” she beckoned in a beguiling voice, her
mouth drawn downward. “Stay with me forever!” |
