Read and tell me how it is!
The Third-floor bedroom By: Shakti Ramnath
It all began when someone left the window
open. The new owner of “C’mon Inn” on Clear Water Street was freaking
out. He had no clue what to do. He had already had a customer
yelling at him about spores and sons. He was clueless. The only job
Mr. Jones had ever had was at Chimichangas, whose logo was: “feed your beast!”
There
were papers everywhere and coffee mugs littered the floor. Mr. Jones had
to hand out the rubber rats that were in the basement to all of the kids in the
hotel so they could do a group activity with one of the members of staff. He had to count all of the guests first, then
the kids to figure that out! He also had
to repaint the sign. The Salamander
Mascot was looked paint deprived. Finally,
Mr. Jones decided to take a break. That was the ninth break that
day. He really was exhausted though.
“I
deserve the break!” He exclaimed to himself. He opened the window
and let the cool breeze embrace him. There was something else in the breeze as
well, a whiff of fragrance and a bit of sparkle.
Paulina
Andrews was staring at the park. She wasn’t outside of course.
Being outside would cause spores to cover her lungs! The horror! In fact,
the only reason she was staying at “C’mon Inn” was because her house was… was…
she could barely think about it. Her house was DIRTY!
“My
sister and her sons are just unbearable!” she had shrieked to the manager of
the Inn.
“Just
because they are visiting I have to*cough* evacuate the house! I demand
your most clean, spore free room!” Mr. Jones was a bit flustered.
“Right
away, ma’am. Of course, ma’am. Anything you say ma’am.” He squeaked
in between Paulina’s bellowing.
That’s
how she came to this room. Although the room wasn’t terrible, it was
certainly nothing to write home about. She wouldn’t be able to write to her
home anyway. The mailman would probably skip her house. He would be
taking the safer way out.
Anyway,
as Paulina was staring out of the window, she heard a chitter from under her
bed. Paulina was scared of many things. Rats, spores, the dark,
snakes, thorns, blood, etc. She knew rats like the back of her
hand.
When she heard the rat she turned pale.
When she heard a squeak her teeth started to chatter. When she saw the rat,
she fainted.
That
wasn’t the end of the rats though. The next incident took place in the
kitchen.
Chef
Gustav was humming the Italian National Anthem with gusto.
“Fratelli d’Italia, L'Italia
s'è desta!” he bellowed while mixing soup in a giant simmering
bowl.
Chef
Gustav was the head chef in the Inn. Everyone in the Inn loved his
cooking. He was a jolly man who was on the chubby side. He was a
very picky cook. If a slightest thing in the kitchen was wrong then he
would go ballistic.
He heard
the same chitter that Paulina had heard. He went rigid.
“Was zat
a rat I heard!” he shouted. He was brandishing the stirring spoon like a
sword and was pointing it in the direction of the sound. Then came a
series of chitters as if to answer his question.
“AAAHHH”
the chef shouted as he saw a tail behind a pot. Then he saw a
snout. Then he saw the whole rat! Another rat appeared from behind
a knife. Another came from behind a cabinet. Soon the whole kitchen
was covered.
The chef
was paralyzed with shock. His face started to turn red, and then he
exploded. He started shouting in Italian. He ran out the door to
the dining area. All of the people stared at him. They saw a fat
man running past carrying a spoon shouting in Italian. Then they saw a bunch of
rats running after him. Everything was silent while people were trying to
process what they were seeing. Then they started to scream.
Everything was chaos.
Ladies
were smacking rats with their shoes while men were standing on the tables
shrieking.
Many kids
have lovely pet mice that have glossy fur and beautiful noses. Those mice
have lovely eyes and make sweet noises. These rats were nothing like
those mice. They were evil looking creatures. The noise
they made was as bad as fingernails scratching on a blackboard, or when a car
makes a quick sudden turn and squeaks on the road. Their fur was gray,
brown, or black and was mangy and slimy looking. The claws were unruly
and twisted, and they had a blackish tinge on the tops. The worst parts
were the eyes. They had red eyes that looked like they could see right
through you.
If you
saw these rats, your first thought would be, “Ahhh! It is the
devil!” Your second thought would be “RUN!” And your third though
would be… well if you were lucky, you wouldn’t have a thought. You would
just run. If you weren’t lucky, you probably just faint on the floor
dramatically.
These
people did just that. Some fainted on the ground with a considerable
amount of noise, and a few just turned and ran as fast as they could.
The rats
were covering every part of the restaurant. The people were all hiding in
the rooms and in the lobby.
“What had
happened here?” asked an astonished looking Mr. Jones. He had just
finished his fourteenth break from work.
“A
t-torrent of r-r-rats” stuttered a woman. “They were in t-t-the k-k-kitchen.”
When Mr.
Jones went to the restaurant, there weren’t any rats. Tatters of
tablecloth and curtains were lying everywhere. The chairs were barely
more than splinters. The kitchen was a mess. Soup was splattered
everywhere and the utensils were lying on the ground. Mr. Jones was
horrified. The rats had caused the worst mess possible. They seemed
to have gone out of their way to make it worse. The whole restaurant was
ruined.
“What
could have happened here and have made this mess? This will cause us to spend more money!” he
wondered. “There aren’t any rats at all.” Then he looked out the
window. He saw traces of rats. A few rat droppings and scratched
poles were in the open. The street was deserted because everybody
sensible was eating dinner.
“This sort
of thing requires Bob’s attention!” he cried.
Bob was an exterminator who had helped the inn in getting rid of the
cockroaches in the past.
Mr. Jones picked up the old, dusty phone that
was lying on his desk and dialed Bob’s number.
“555-555-1234”
he muttered to himself. As the phone
rang, Mr. Jones stared at the whole room.
He had never taken a proper glance at anything in the room because of
all of the work he had. The chairs were
still stacked under the window, the walls were still covered in the beautiful
dove wallpaper, and the desk was still a boring shade of brown. One the last ring, Bob picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Mr. Jones from C’mon Inn. I am
calling to report a rat problem.
Recently we have had a torrent of rats fill our kitchen. Could you come over and have a look?”
“Sorry. I have to help an old lady who
is being threatened by bats, a couple that has a cockroach infestation, and a
few other problems. I can help you in
about a month.” Mr. Jones sighed. “No. It’s okay. I will take care of this myself. Thank you for your time.”
After the
very useless conversation, Mr. Jones sat at his desk and thought about what he
was going to do when he had free time in the inn.
“First I
am going to go bike riding with my daughter, and then I am going to read that
novel I recently saw in the bookstore.” He thought. First he had to find out where the rats were.
Mr. Jones muttered. He got up from his desk and went to the
intercom.
“Can all
staff please report to my office?” he said.
A few minutes later, the door opened and everyone except Chef Gustav
came in. He was at home cowering
underneath his bed.
Can I have a volunteer to go
and find out where the rats are?”
Nobody’s hand went up.
Mr. Jones
sighed. “Fine. If you volunteer, you can have a pay
raise.” Everyone’s hand went up.
“Oh. Apparently I don’t pay enough.” He said
sarcastically. He picked three hands anyway
and the rest of the staff went back to their duties. Every person who had been picked left the
room.
Mr. Jones
sat back down on his desk and wondered about what to do. Thank goodness he had managed to finish all
of his paperwork. He mindlessly counted
the chairs. Five chairs under the window, two windows, sixty doves on the
wallpaper, three cabinets on the side of the room, and one very boring desk in
the middle of the space. As he sat in
his chair, he started to scrutinize the door.
What else could he do? A few
minutes later the door slammed open in a manner that caused Mr. Jones to
scream.
“Um,
boss? Was that you screaming?” said a Jersey-accented
voice.
“Of course
not! It must have been a bird.” said a
very red- faced Mr. Jones. He was
smoothing out his tie sheepishly. The
man in the door looked at him like he was crazy. It was Charlie, one of the people from the
group of staff who had left to see what had happened to the rats.
“Well
boss, the rats are nowhere to be seen.
Strangely enough, down the street, there are millions of rubber rats in
all different positions. I became a
detective boss see? So I goes down to
the basement, and I look around. You
know what I see? Millions of boxes right
boss? They’s supposed to hold them
rubber rats am I right? Well, they’re
empty. So I’m thinking to myself, I’m
thinking ‘Hey, Charlie, you saw those rats on the road? Where’d they come from?’ They are coming, from here boss!”
“Wait a
minute Charlie. You think that somehow,
those rubber rats that were in the basement became alive and rat out of the
Inn? That’s ridiculous!” Mr. Jones
stuttered.
“That’s
what I thought boss! But, the evidence
can’t lie. So until we find out a better
solution…” Charlie replied with his arms crossed.
“Fine! You are dismissed.” Mr. Jones snapped. Charlie left the room shaking his head. Mr. Jones groaned. Even the idea of rubber rats coming alive was
ridiculous. He had to see it for
himself. He got up from his desk
reluctantly and opened the door. He went
along the long hallway and came to a door marked “Basement”. He opened it slowly and went down the short
flight of stairs. In the dim lighting,
he could just make out some boxes. He
walked towards them and put his hand inside.
Nothing was there! He
gasped. It must have been true then!
The rats really had come alive! He stumbled up the stairs and back to his
office.
“I must be
dreaming.” he thought. “It’s not possible for rubber rats to come alive.” As he was pondering this thought, he noticed
something strange about the room. Right
between 4 doves on the wall, where there was supposed to be another one, there
was a gap. As he looked at the rest of
the wall he realized that more and more doves seemed to be disappearing. When he stared at one of the doves, he saw it
lift one wing off the wall, then it lifted the other and flew out the
window. It left in one quick, swift
motion that left Mr. Jones wondering whether it really did leave. Soon the whole room was filled with the white
paper doves. They didn’t fly like normal
birds with wings beating the wind.
Instead, they seemed to be drifting along with the breeze.
One of the birds went off
track and fluttered down the hall to a room.
The man inside was on the porch working on fixing a railing. When he saw the bird, his eyes opened
wide. What happened next seemed to
happen in slow motion. He started to
lean over with shock. Soon he fell off
the porch and on to the ground below.
The lady who was staying in that room screamed. Someone called the ambulance and they came in
the nick of time. They lifted the man
put him on a stretcher and left with sirens blaring. Everyone eventually got over the shock and left
for their rooms. So did Mr. Jones. He went back to his office.
“You know
what? Now, I’m really freaking
out. First the rats, now the doves,
what’s next? All of the incidents have
caused bad things to happen. I have to
get to the bottom of this.” Mr. Jones said with wide eyes. “I should talk to
the previous owner about the strange things that are happening here.”
He walked
out of the room hurriedly. When he
passed the Janitor’s office, he absentmindedly told the Janitor that he was in
charge. Then he hurried out the Inn’s
door.
“Where
could the previous owner of the Inn be?
What was her name again? Mrs.
Finnigan? Oh yeah! It was Mrs. O’ Sullivan! She is old so she should be in a nursing
home. The closest nursing home is Clear
Waters.” Mr. Jones got into a car and
drove to the nursing home. When he
reached the front desk, he saw a lady on the phone. She was about 20 and looked very elegant with
hair tied back in a sleek bun and a red dress.
One manicured hand was on the phone while the other tapped on the desk
impatiently.
“Of course
bring them in today. No. Yes.
Of course. Bye.” She hung up the
phone.
“What can
I do for you?” she asked.
“I am
looking for a lady named Mrs. O’ Sullivan?”
“Room
13B.”
“Thanks.” He left the desk and went up the
elevator. Soon he came to the 13th
floor. He found room 13B and went
in. The inside of the room was very
boring. The floor was a checkered
pattern and the curtains were green. The
only things in the room were a bed and a bookshelf. It seemed more like a hospital than a
room. On the bed was an old lady. She was sleeping. Mr. Jones came closer and yelled her
name. She woke up with a jolt.
“Eh?
Eh? Oh.
Who are you?” she croaked.
“I am Mr.
Jones. I am the current owner of C’mon
Inn. Some strange things have been
happening around there. Do you know what
has happened?”
The old
lady paused and stared at the top right corner of the room.
“Uh huh.
Oh. Ok.” She muttered under her breath.
“Um. Ma’am?”
“Shhhh. I am talking to the invisible sprites.”
“There is
no such thing. Anyway, do you know what
is happening?”
Suddenly
the old woman stared at him in a way that seemed like glaring.
“Sonny,
look here. I am going to tell you this
once and only once. If you want the things
to stop, close the window before it is too late. If
you can’t close it, bad things will keep happening and things will come alive.
I managed to close the window when I was working there. Eventually, once whoever opened the window
had died, it will shut once more. Until
another victim comes along.” As
soon as she said this, she fell back asleep noisily. Mr. Jones decided not to wake her. She wasn’t much help. There is no point in closing the window. So, Mr. Jones drove back to the inn.
When he went back, he
realized that something was wrong. There
was nobody there! The staff was there of
course, but none of the guests were in their rooms or in the inn.
“Where is everybody?” he asked
the janitor.
“They all left. They were afraid of all the bad things that
were happening. The rats, the birds, the
man falling, the destruction, they just couldn’t take it anymore. We are going to have to go out of business if
no one shows up.”
Mr. Jones turned white.
“Even if the lady was lying,
there is no other hope for the inn if I don’t do something. I have to close that window!”
“Um, boss? Do you feel alright? You look a little pale.”
“I am alright. Go away though. I need to do something.”
Then, he went back up to his
office, and went straight to the open window.
He tried pushing it shut, but it was jammed.
“This
window won’t close no matter how hard anyone tries.” He realized.
“It is too
late.”
THE
END
Or is it?
EPILOGUE
Mary and her brother, Bram,
had just moved to Clear Water Street. It
was one of those hot days where you feel like you’re just going to melt. Mary and Bram had just recently heard about
the “haunted” inn that used to have great business. The owner, Jeremiah Jones, had recently died
of Salmonella. Although, where the
Salamander came from, no one knew.
“Come on Mary! It’ll be fun!” shouted Bram to a very scared
looking Mary.
“Are you kidding? The place looks like it will fall down even
if a rat walks on it. I would much
rather stay here. You go.”
“I am not going in without
you.” Saying so, Bram grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her inside the inn.
The whole place reeked of
rat droppings. The ground was covered
with a thick layer of dust. The wooden beams
had rotted through and cobwebs covered the corners. On the whole, the place looked like it hadn’t
been touched for years.
“Let’s go upstairs!” said
Bram. He half carried half dragged Mary
up the steps.
“Look the Manager’s
office! Let’s go inside”
“Bram,
seriously, chill”
“I wish I
could. It’s so hot!”
He opened
the manager’s office. The walls were
green and covered with doves. They were
the only thing in the room that seemed to be disturbed. The rest of the room was covered in dust, yet
the birds looked like they had just gone flying.
“Whoa! Can you imagine sitting in this chair?” Bram
ran to the chair and sat on it.
“Bram, be
careful! You might break it.”
“Sure. Whoa look at these!” He ran to the chairs
that were stacked underneath the window.
He started rifling through them.
Then he noticed the closed window.
“Maybe I
could let some air in!” he told Mary. As
he opened the window, he detected something in it. A whiff of fragrance and a bit of sparkle.
“Bram, let’s
go. I am getting a little-“She was interrupted
by a noise.
“Did you
hear that?” said Bram. As soon as he
finished the question he heard another noise.
A “chitter” came from downstairs.
NOTES:
1. If you notice, on the very beginning of the story, I said that the sign's salamander needed painting. In the epilogue, I said that Mr. Jones had dies of Salmonella. WOAH!
2. This story was actually for school. If you go to this website, you can actually see the reason we were doing this. It all has to do with a man named Harris Burdick. He was a great painter. One day he left a bunch of paintings with their captions in someone's house. The very same day, he disappeared. No one knows where he went. Now, authors from all over the world use his drawings and captions for their stories. See if you can recognize some stories which use the main idea of these drawings.
NOTES:
1. If you notice, on the very beginning of the story, I said that the sign's salamander needed painting. In the epilogue, I said that Mr. Jones had dies of Salmonella. WOAH!
2. This story was actually for school. If you go to this website, you can actually see the reason we were doing this. It all has to do with a man named Harris Burdick. He was a great painter. One day he left a bunch of paintings with their captions in someone's house. The very same day, he disappeared. No one knows where he went. Now, authors from all over the world use his drawings and captions for their stories. See if you can recognize some stories which use the main idea of these drawings.
THE THIRD-FLOOR BEDROOM
_____________________
It all began when someone left
the window open.
JUST DESERT
______________
She lowered the knife and
it grew even brighter.
THE HOUSE ON MAPLE STREET
____________________
It was a perfect lift-off.
OSCAR AND ALPHONSE
_____________________
She knew it was time to send them back.
The caterpillars softly wiggled in her hand,
spelling out "goodbye".
MR. LINDEN'S LIBRARY
___________________
He had warned her about the book.
Now it was too late.
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