The Lodge--Free Preview (Freeview?)

The three of us walked down a hallway with five doors on each side. Rooms, our rooms. Mine was open even if I didn’t know it was mine at a time:

Single bed, row of shelves. Linoleum floor. Lino, not carpet or some sort of antique wood---vinyl.

“The rooms are shitty.” Panic Woman shook her head. “I am not staying here. Relax better send that van back.”

“I’m sure they’ll make all this right.” Maggie, winking at me.

It would take a while before I understood why the rooms were so austere just as it would be weeks before I understood why there was a drain in the middle of the floor.

“One of us should wait by the door,” Panic Woman said. Her tone of voice was staccato and harsh; I already disliked her.

“I’ll do it,” Maggie said brightly. She seemed as cheery and attractive as the few minutes of her show I’d caught here and there. I already liked her.

She turned around and walked back to the heavy door. I made an attempt to strike up a conversation with the other woman.

“How long have you guys been here?”

“What?” Her tone was distracted, rude.

“How long have you been stuck here?”

“I’ve been here three fucking hours. This is some bullshit, lawyers are gonna talk.”

“Beth….please just relax.”

A soft looking white guy with a beard said that as we walked into a large space with a high ceiling. The furnishings were austere: Four folding metal tables, each with four matching chairs set neatly around them. Beard Guy was at the table nearest the hallway. He smiled and stood to greet me; I already liked him.

“I’m Kevin, welcome to Hell,” his tone was warm and he extended a hand.

I gave him my name and shook his hand.

Welcome to Hell.

At the time the greeting seemed a little weird like the room I had seen but I was oblivious back then:

This is all a fuck up. They are tired and cranky from being stuck here but someone will be along to make things right.

Looking around I saw that the windows were high up on the walls. They were long but only a foot or so high. The ceiling had to be twenty feet because there was a balcony on one end with white doors behind it. Three people were at the other tables: A very well dressed black woman. A Hispanic guy who appeared to be in pain. A fat white guy with a big voice recalling eating grubs in the Australian Outback.

It sounded disgusting at the time, that opinion would pass.

“I’m sorry I yelled; I’m just frustrated.” Beth said, opening a bottle of water as she looked around. “Someone fucked up, am I wrong?

Kevin winced but forced his gentle smile back.

“It’s gonna be okay, Beth. Someone screwed up, someone will come and tell us what’s going on.”

“When? You don’t think this is weird, at all?”

There was no point in arguing with her. Where had she gotten that water? I saw four cases stacked against a wall and got a bottle.

“You relaxing, too?” The black woman was watching me.

“Pardon?” Then I understood: Relax, all of us were on Relax getaways.

Where you have no idea where you’re going….and neither does anyone you know---

Not helping. Really not helping.

“Yeah, Kenny Loggins brought me.” I caught her confused look and pivoted. “You know, the singer from the 1980s---”

“I know who Kenny Loggins is. I didn’t know he was that hard up.”

She picked up the phone sitting in front of her; the latest iPhone in a tasteful shell.

“Useless, no wi-fi here.” Beth commented, tapping her bottle on the table.

I didn’t want to feed into her paranoia but things were beginning to seem grim, grim and weird. The feeling in the hall had been cavalier; something about the larger room was oppressive despite the high ceiling. Was I worried at that point? You know, I’m not sure: The emotions that would follow get mixed in with the ones from that moment and the ones I’m having as I recount this.

Taken with permission from The Lodge by Izaak David Diggs

(C) 2021 Izaak David Diggs

You can buy The Lodge here:

https://www.amazon.com/Lodge-Izaak-David-Diggs/dp/1734542861/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&qid=1626368447&refinements=p_27%3AIzaak+David+Diggs&s=books&sr=1-1