Jonathan Moeller

Reservations

“Good evening sir, may I help you?”

            The question caught me off guard - not for it’s content, but because someone was there to ask it.  I turned my head toward the sound of the voice and saw a security guard sitting at a wood paneled desk.

            “I’m here to see Aaron Singer.”  Being self conscious, I felt the need to give the guard more details.  “11B.”

            “First elevator on the right, sir.”

            “Thank you.”

            As I walked to the elevator I realized that he probably knew why I was there from the moment I walked through the door.  It wasn’t the kind of place people like me usually frequent and the twelve pack of Miller High Life probably gave me away.  The floors were made out of a dark, speckled marble and the walls were dark and glossy and all of the accents were done in gold.  The furniture in the lobby was black leather with visible metal frames and no arms.  On the far wall was a several-story-tall waterfall.  The water rushed over a series of gold cubes, giving the waterfall the appearance of controlled chaos.  I thought it looked tacky, but because I didn’t live in this building, my opinion didn’t really matter.  I figured if it was tacky, people wouldn’t pay good money to be associated with it.  The doors of the elevator opened and I stepped inside.

            “Good evening sir, may I help you?”

            I was startled again.  I rarely look at strangers, so I didn’t notice the man’s uniform when I got in. 

            “Yes, floor 11, thank you.”  I said.

            After a long, uncomfortable ride to the 11^th floor, the doors opened to a hallway running perpendicular to my line of sight.  This floor was much more comfortable than the lobby.  The walls were painted a warm taupe color and the accents were white.  Directly in front of me was a dark wood table decorated with a vase of fresh flowers.  On the wall above it was a mirror where I could see a misshapen, half-paralyzed face staring back at me.  I thanked the operator and stepped out of the elevator.  I was confused about which way to turn until I saw a tall, thin redheaded man hanging something on a door at the end of the hall.

            As we approached each other, I said “What up, Aaron?  It’s been too long.”

            “Awesome, Fischer, I’m glad you could make it,” Aaron said as we embraced, “I was just putting up a sign saying the party is moving downstairs to the patio.  Would you like a tour of my parents’ apartment before we head down?”

            “Sure” I said.  I was glad that Aaron arrived in Houston a few days before the party.  He usually takes the bus home and does not shower or shave for the week before.  He usually had electronic equipment with him and smelling really bad was his was his way to keep from being robbed. “Should I have tipped the elevator guy?”

            “No, he’s like a piece of furniture.  Well, that came out the wrong way.  He’s part of the services provided for in the bill my parents get every month.”

            “We just passed apartment 11B.” I said.

            “That’s the front door.  We only use that during formal occasions.  Here’s the back door,” he said, unlocking the door, “and this is the kitchen.”  As we walked through the kitchen, I set the beer on the counter.

            “Oh, I get it,” I said as the tour continued, “so you don’t have to walk through the apartment with your groceries.  So why is the party moving downstairs?”

            “You can’t really see the fireworks from my parents’ side of the building but the patio gives us access to the view of the city.  This is my old room.”

            “I see your mother can’t let go,” I said, “Have they changed anything since you left?”

            “Nope.” Aaron replied, “This is the balcony.  It’s really relaxing to sit up here at night.  You can see the lights of the town but it’s above the street noise.”  Aaron grabbed two beers and opened them, “Take a seat; we’ll have a couple of drinks before we go back downstairs.”

            I was glad for this opportunity, Aaron was the host of the party and once we got downstairs, I didn’t think I would get to spend much time with him.  “How is Las Vegas?” I asked.

            “Really good.” he said, “Now that I’m an established trader, I spend less time at the office, earn more, and get to enjoy the city.  Man, I’ve never been to so many buffets in my life.”

            “Really?  I never took you as a buffet kind of guy.  Is it hard to stay away from gambling?”

            “Man, that’s what I do all day at work; I’m not going to spend my personal time doing it too.  If I’m going to gamble, I’m going to do it on something I have some control over.  The trick is to be steady.  I know people who make millions and think they are geniuses so they make drastic changes to the way they trade and end up losing it all.  They’ll start again making money the way they originally did and then repeat the process.”

            “That’s pretty funny,” I replied, “You would think they’d learn.”

            “Yeah,” he said, “How’s things in the electronic scoreboard industry?”

            “It’s okay, I got promoted to ‘IT buyer’ but it’s not really my life’s ambition to buy motherboards for scoreboards.  So far the only interesting thing I’ve done is buying rifles to donate to Coca-Cola for their company holiday party raffle.  I guess that’s what I get for screwing around in high school.  I got into Washington and Lee and didn’t apply to any other schools.  I even got a scholarship but, unfortunately, couldn’t afford the tuition the scholarship didn’t cover.  Apparently, they expect parents to pay for a certain percentage, too.”

            “That sucks.”  Aaron said.  “I guess I just got lucky to get the parents I have.  They sent me to college and supported me when I quit to become a trader.  Maybe you’re just stuck in a rut.  If you want to move forward with your life now might be the time to get started.  As cliché as it sounds, it’s New Year’s Eve 1999.  If the new millennium isn’t a good time to force yourself to change, I don’t know what is.”

            I thought about correcting him but didn’t feel like this was the time to get into the millennium argument again.  “I guess you’re right.  But it’s kind of difficult without support.  You moved to Las Vegas, Jack moved to New York, Brian is in school in San Antonio and I work in an office with forty-year-old women, so my romantic prospects are pretty slim.  Even if I did meet someone somewhere, I think they would be turned off by my ‘Phantom of the Opera’ impersonation.”

            “Oh, it’s not so bad.  I knew a guy who had Bell’s Palsy and after a few months, you could hardly notice it.” he said.

            “It’s funny that everyone knows a guy had it but they never had it themselves.  The worst part is smoking.  I can’t close the right side of my mouth, so it makes a horrible sucking sound when I inhale.”

            “Well,” Aaron said laughing, “if you ever get down and need someone to talk to, I’m only a phone call away.”  I knew this to be true as I would occasionally get calls from Aaron as he was sitting in the drive through at Whataburger.  He could never remember which chicken sandwich didn’t taste like hot dogs and would call so I could tell him what to order.

            After we finished our beers, we went down to the patio on the sixth floor.  The other guests were already there but I didn’t know anyone else besides Aaron.  It didn’t really matter because people at New Year’s Eve parties are generally in friendly moods.  The year 2000 came without incident and by three o’clock, most people were passed out in the apartment or had already left.  Conversation was at a lull when I began to study the building next door.  It was literally three feet from the edge of the patio and rose about eight floors above it.  It was made entirely of light colored brick and all of the windows were covered by plywood.  By examining the architecture, I guessed the building was pretty old.  I walked over to the building to take a closer look.

            “Hey, Aaron, what’s the deal with this building?”  I asked.

            “Oh, that’s the old Dowling Hotel.  It’s been abandoned since the 80’s.  A European owner bought it and he’s been waiting for property values to rise so he can make money off of it.”

            “And he thinks that by letting it fall apart, he’s going to increase its value?” I asked, not expecting an answer.  “That sucks.  It’s pretty cool.  How old is it?”

            “I think it was built in the 20’s.  My guess is that they are going to tear it down.  There’s no parking for it anymore so they’ll probably build lofts with a parking garage built in.”

            “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  I said, remembering sitting on my uncle’s tailgate and watching the Shamrock Hotel come down.  “Still, I would have liked to see it in its prime.”

            “Well, we could see it now.  Who’s up for a little breaking and entering?”

            I was the only one interested in seeing the hotel.  The rest of the guests preferred to make use of the apartment’s hot tubs.  I followed Aaron up to his apartment so he could grab a flashlight and then we descended the stairwell.  I was confused as to why we could not take the elevator, but I decided that Aaron knew what he was doing.  When we got to the ground floor, we left the building through a door marked “Emergency Exit.”  The fact that Aaron busted through the door without a second thought made me think the alarm had not worked in a long time.  I saw security cameras fixed on the door, which made me wonder, again, why we didn’t just walk out the front door.

            As we walked on the street behind the two buildings, I began to have second thoughts.  “Should we be doing this?  I’m sure the police have increased patrols because of the whole New Year’s Eve – Y2K thing.”

            “Don’t worry about it.  If they catch us, they’ll just send us home.  They’re out catching drunk drivers and no one really cares about this old building.” Aaron said as we approached an ornate concrete wall.  “On the other side of this wall is the courtyard in front of the hotel.  Help me up first, and I’ll pull you up.”

            On the street side the concrete wall was about six feet tall, but on the courtyard side the land was built up so the wall was only three feet tall from that side.  I looked around once we got over the wall and saw there was a brick path leading from the corner of the lot, where there was a boarded up arched entrance, around a fountain and up to the front door of the building.  The front of the building was much like the side that faced the apartment building.  All of the windows had plywood over them but the architecture really stood out in the front.  The building had an “L” shape with three faces.  The left and right wings were mirror images of each other with only windows visible.  The center portion was the smallest and contained the entrance to the hotel.  It faced the corner of the lot and was in line with the brick path.  The front doors, however, were not covered by plywood, but there were “No Trespassing” signs posted all over it.

            “Follow me.”  Aaron said as he pushed open one of the doors and turned on his flashlight, “and watch out for squatters.”

            “Great,” I said, “But if I see one crackhead or dead body, I’m out of here.”  I thought it was a legitimate concern.  Two drunken kids in their early twenties would be easy prey for someone who was familiar with the layout inside the hotel and who was motivated by the need to score some cash to get their next fix.  If they wanted to they could probably but it from someone else who lived in the hotel.  All of those thoughts left me as we walked into the lobby.  Aaron’s light darted around the room until I told him to slow down.  Everything but the chandelier was stripped clean.  The walls were barren except for the graffiti and the occasional hole in the wall.  Apparently, Kilroy had been there several times.  I wondered if it was he who punched the holes in the wall.  It smelled dirty, but not in the way old buildings normally smelled.  It smelled more like a warehouse, I could have sworn that I smelled some kind of fuel in the air.  The floor was a beautiful two toned marble but was extremely filthy.  I began to think about all the people who walked on that floor and how they would now never come near the place.  It was beautifully built and deserved a lot better than this. 

            Aaron’s light passed over the reception desk and I asked him to stop so I could look behind it.  There was a side door and another room I had to pass through to get to the desk.  The countertop was missing and it looked more like a receptionist desk at a doctor’s office than a check-in counter at an upscale hotel.  The walls were stripped giving it the appearance of institutional style white walls.  I walked through the dark room and into the receptionist area.  Trash littered the floor behind the desk and as I walked to explore the back of the room, I heard a loud rustling sound.  Because Aaron was shining the light from the other side of the counter, all I could see were dark forms. 

            “Run!” I yelled as I gripped the doorjamb to gain momentum.  As I sprinted toward the entrance I could see the rectangle of light growing larger as I approached it.  I bounded out of the door and down the steps in a single jump.  I turned around and waited nervously for Aaron.

            “What are we running from?” Aaron asked as he walked out of the hotel.

            “Didn’t you hear that noise?”  I asked.  “I think someone was in that room.”

            “I didn’t hear anything.  Are you sure it wasn’t a raccoon?”

            “Is there a large raccoon population in the Montrose?”

            “Nope.”

            “Whatever,” I said, “let’s just get out of here.”

            Aaron made fun of me for the length of the short walk home.  We climbed down the wall and walked in through the front lobby of Aaron’s building.  The security guard looked up but did not seem to care what we were doing, which made me wonder even more why we had to sneak out of the building earlier.

            When we got back to the apartment, Aaron sat down on the couch to watch the New Year’s celebration of whatever time zone was celebrating the New Year at that hour.  I excused myself to the restroom and by the time I got back, he was asleep, so I walked to the balcony and lit a cigarette.  As I looked out over the lights of the quiet city, I thought about the old hotel and decided that Aaron was wrong; it was not the time to move forward.  I didn’t need to become a new person; I just needed to get rid of the things that held me down in the past.  After I finished my cigarette, I walked back into the living room and saw Aaron was still asleep.  I didn’t want to wake him but felt guilty about not letting him know I was leaving, so I went the kitchen, took a High Life out of the refrigerator and tucked it between Aaron’s arm and torso.  I walked back into the kitchen, grabbed a Coke for the ride home, locked the door behind me, and took the stairs out of the building.

Revision Account

            The most difficult part of this assignment was coming up with an original and literary idea for the story.  My first idea was to do a satirical piece about some segment of society with which I was currently annoyed.  The problem with satire in a short short story form is it is difficult to conceal the theme of the work, which I think satire has to do in order to be literary.  Anyone can write “The Onion” style satire, and while I am often amused by it, I would never consider it literary.  After deciding against the satire, I still wanted to do something funny but the closest I got to a well-formed idea was a story about a zombie trying to make it in a world of the living.  While this could have potential, I feared that that the “out of place” character in an unnatural setting was hackneyed, unless I had more room in which to work.  I finally came up with my idea for “Reservations” by getting a piece of paper and writing down anything I could thing of that might be even slightly interesting.  Topping the list were a New Year’s Eve party, a road trip to a Kiss concert, and a horrible blind date.  Interestingly, all of these events occurred within six months of each other.  I decided on the New Year’s Eve party because it had the most flexibility.  There are only three aspects of the story that are true:  The New Year’s Eve party occurred on December 31, 1999, I had a facial paralysis at the time, and we broke into the Plaza Apartments Hotel.  All of the dialogue is completely fictional and so are most of the details.  I actually got the idea for the waterfall from the Trump Tower lobby, the tacky, tacky Trump Tower lobby.  The first draft did not include the references to Bell’s Palsy and included a third character who went into the hotel.  The dialogue was much different and the main character was whinier.  It also had many issues with details.  For example, I never said where Aaron acquired the flashlight.  I fixed many of these issues before I sent out the draft exchanges. 

            Fischer and the Dowling Hotel represent the theme while Aaron and his parents’ apartment build serve as the foils.  Most people have the potential to be beautiful and successful but some see their lives as flawed and they want to start over.  My contention is that people should find out what is wrong and fix that, rather than starting over.  Our past gives us beauty.  This does not reflect poorly on Aaron’s character, as he is living to his potential.  The path is just easier for him.

            I made sure to be very descriptive when I wanted to reader to notice something.  Foe example, I spent a lot of time describing the buildings.  I really wanted to reader to think about the difference in the buildings and the main character’s opinion of both.  I also did not spend a lot of time on the actual party because it was not important.  However, if I were to expand this story that is the first place I would start.  I could introduce other characters and use them as tools to further character development.

I only got one peer review back from the three I handed out in class but the one I got back was very helpful.  To be fair to the others, I wasn’t exactly timely with my draft.  I really liked the style of Javier’s story, so I asked him to review my work shortly before the due date.  He responded very quickly and had a lot of good information.  One of his biggest points was I did not develop the third named character in the earlier draft.  Initially, I didn’t know if I should put her into the story.  I was basically using her as filler and to have a third body on the trip to the hotel.  She wasn’t important to the story so I did not develop her much because I didn’t want to take the focus off of the two main characters.  Because I was unsure if I should use the character to begin with and because Javier also found fault with her, the first thing I did with the current draft was to remove any reference to that character.  Originally, the ending of the story was very vague but I was afraid to explain anything at the end because I didn’t want to look like I was summarizing the story.  At the same time I was also uncomfortable with the vague ending.  Javier noticed the ending and suggested I do something that jolts the characters back to reality and that reflects the theme.  My compromise was the last scene on the balcony.  I tried to pick my words very carefully so that the theme was not too obvious.  I didn’t want to look like I was preaching.

I got my wife to do the second review.  She’s a technical editor for one of the NASA contractors, so her focus was on punctuation, grammar, and word choice.  I ran into a few places where my phrasing was awkward and she really helped me with that.

            I’m satisfied with “Reservations” as an early draft that matched the criteria of the assignment.  I think I could expand it and make it several times longer than its current length.  Because I did a draft exchange rather than a presentation, I didn’t get as much feedback about the story and am not sure if it is good or if my writer’s bias does not allow me to see major flaws in the work.  I was worried that the writing would be awkward because this is my first attempt at writing fiction, so I was happy that Javier commented on the piece’s “readability.”