CHAPTER 5: DILEMMA

Today I’ve decided to extend the day off to a week of leave. I’ve also taken the liberty of reserving 28 rooms in a posh hotel near Hover River. Those ladies need it. I told them they can bring their spouses, if they had any.

I catered about 2 mini-buses for the trip; increased it to three after 20 of them brought their husbands unannounced. Obviously, Gorett didn’t have a care whether these women were married or not.

I can tell you quite lightly, the trip wasn’t so bad. And I stress on the word LIGHTLY.

… Those three hours to Hover Hotel were the longest in my life.

After I settled expenses, the hotel manager opened all doors to our group. I felt that if I paid them a little more, they would’ve let the ladies take over the entire hotel. I went up to the quiet of my room and plugged my laptop into a socket. I also disconnected the phone wire from the room phone into my cable port and took my sleeping pill.

Amazingly, my inbox wasn’t flooded, as I had expected it to be. I thought those ladies, most of them over 30, would’ve sent me e-mails of sorts to me. I was kind of grateful that they didn’t. I didn’t want to waste my afternoon thinking up of sappy “You’re welcome” or “It’s no big deal, really” kind of messages to them. I think my laptop might seize up and die right in front of me.

However, there was a message that was marked as top priority. I read it through:

Mr. Nohenwiwht,

I must apologise for not being able to visit you during your immobility, as I had a pressing matter regarding an encrypted message and a lion’s tooth.

I also wish to congratulate on the assistance of the 27 women concerning the sexual harassment case. This ‘Gorett’ person sounds thoroughly unpleasant and I believe the news reports were exaggerating when they said that he had murdered someone to get to one of the 27 ladies.

However, those things are not why I sent you that e-mail. You use to know me as ‘Otora’ when we were partners, but from the doctor’s prognosis, you have lost your memory from the car accident back. That would mean you have no recollection of me. But I will assist you. Here are some clues:

1. I am black.
2. I am an adaptive person.
3. I am someone you know very well.
4. I am one man on my own boat.
5. I am nearing a discovery of a lifetime; as are you.

I have told you things that describe me. By luck or chance or simple common sense, you may be able to find out my real name and find me. Once you have, I will then tell you more about your life, as well as mine.

Yours Faithfully,
A Friend.

PS I’ve taken the liberty of saving you from answering all your horrible emails, since you would not have been able to do so in your previous condition for the past few years.

Talk about weird messages. I hadn’t told anyone about the actual cause of my absence, or the fact that I’ve lost part of my memory. And who the hell was he to decide to answer my emails, even if it was horrid? (I have no idea why I’m complaining) But after reading it over again, it sounded like a challenge, so I thought I’d tackle it later. I was about to log off when my eye caught sight of a tiny link; the full-stop after “A Friend” turned blue when the arrow hovered over it. I clicked it and a new window opened to what appeared was a dark-looking site, showing a bright picture of a rushing river. A scratchy-looking signboard was present in the corner of the picture.

It was Hover River. But the river seemed more like hostile and sinister rapids than the pleasant calm river that was flowing quietly at my window. I scrolled down to some text that was glaring in white against the dark blue background.

"My visit to Hover River was the most invigorating of all trips I’ve ever had. January 7th, 2003, the D.E.A.T.H. (Don’t Ever Assume That’s Hell) team and I went to Hover Hotel as a sort of base while we were taking research notes and analysis photos of the ‘habits of Hover River’. It was amazing; you should’ve seen it.

Peacefully calm during the summer; yet mercilessly vicious during the rest of the year. This is only a summary of what the river was like in general. The manager, Mr. Foster Mortem, tells us that the river has many different qualities, all depending on the weather. For one, during spring, the river is the ‘catching’ season, where animals like foxes, wild dogs, even bears, are snatched away by the current of the supposedly calm waters. Come autumn, the river causes ‘the most pain’, as small particles of rocks is carried by the current. Fishes die when the rocks lodge themselves into their gills and people using nets to catch those fish suffer from severe abrasions on the legs and arms, if so happens they enter the water. The waters are also the roughest and there are cases that rock particles are found in the eyes. Winter, however, is a different story altogether.

In winter, the temperature will, without warning, drop dramatically, freezing the waters in motion. This is ‘un’ time. Although this is quite a remarkable phenomenon, the drastic temperature drop does not entirely freeze the waters and there is a chance a person may disappear into the icy depths beneath the frozen surface. Also, with its slippery surface and ‘frozen waves’, it is very likely one will slip and stab himself onto a sharp wave like a piece of meat on a frozen stake.

In those three years of staying at the Hover Hotel, the staff members certainly knows what to do during their years of working at the hotel. And, for the sake of science, the seasonal habits of Hover River repeat themselves in the exact fashion every year. For reference, these are the dates on which the four different habits occur, although they don’t exact follow the calendar way concerning seasons:

Catching period  December 29-March 14
Calm period  March 15-August 12
Painful period  August 13-October 31
‘Un’ period  November 1-December 28

If you wish to have more information concerning Hover River, contact me at this address;

Paradox Street No 17

Don’t worry; if you run into any trouble finding the address, go to the nearest local post office and ask for assistance; they know my residence very well."

It took me all night to read it, since I’d already taken my sleeping pill and was battling the pill’s effect with dozens of cans of coke from the mini-fridge. I kept thinking that I was pretty much safe, since it was only August 3. We’d be away from the “drastic temperature drop” two days before the ‘painful period’ set in, even though it had been drizzling the entire time since the group arrived. Then a painful tweak erupted from my abdomen at that moment and I rushed to the bathroom. After a long visit to the porcelain throne, I went to bed thinking over and over again that we’d be fine.

Yet I’m still worried.

…

And what the heck does “un” mean?

________________________________________

A call ended my happy lies of safety. Arthur, my new intern, had rung up directly to my hand phone at 4 in the morning. I had almost forgotten he wakes at around 3 in the morning because he’s an insomniac. It was in his resume.

“Sir, it’s me, Arthur. Something’s come up.”
“What is it?”
“A storm’s approaching Hover River. It’s in the news.”
“Give me a minute; I just woke up.”

I quickly switched on the telly the hotel staff provided for me. A spokesperson was with a tired-looking man in a white coat; an obvious sign of a job in science, or at least something ending with “logy”.

“… from what I can tell, is it true that you are an expert in the seasonal patterns of Hover River?”
“Yes, that is true.”
“What is it that made you want the public to hear? You made it sound so urgent on the phone.”
“There is a storm that your news weather forecasts predicted yesterday, correct?”
“Yes, but I don’t see what’s so important-“
“And, according to the past 5 years’ worth of study on the weather patterns, there has never been a sign of rain or even a drizzle during this period of time.”
“That’s interesting. However, I presume that’s not what you called us for.”
“You presumed correct. This concerns the people currently staying at the Hover Hotel.”
“That would be Mr. Nohenwiwht and the 27 ladies from the Gorett case.”
“That is precisely correct. I want to warn them: LEAVE IMMEDIATELY. If you don’t, you may find yourselves in the company of the ‘Un’ period of the Hover River earlier than you think.”
“Could you tell us what-“

I switched off the telly. I was dumbfounded. What about the Painful period?

Apparently, it took me a moment to realise that I’d left Arthur hanging onto the phone. By the noise and the static he was making, I’d say he was screaming at the receiver.

“Arthur, it’s me. Relax.”
“Mr. Nohenwiwht! I’ve already ordered a charter bus to bring you and the ladies safely back…”
“No.”
“But-but… Mr. Nohenwiwht...”
“I said no! It’s too dangerous.”
“But there’s still time to move out of the area! I can get you out of there before-”
“Get two buses. I’ll get everyone to evacuate the hotel. Be quick.”
“Yes, Mr. Nohenwiwht.”

I then went and recharged my phone. After having a few panic attacks in a space of 4 hours (probably an after-effect from my previous shock), I went down to the lobby and told the manager to call all the ladies down.

The ladies, without a doubt, went into three stages of expressions after I had finished telling them the morbid news: shock, anxiety and panic. They started screaming and running around, some tripping over the carpet with their spindly high heels (I think are called stilettos) and crashing into each other. I took the opportunity to quickly speak to the manager to try his best to reassure them. 2 hours later, the hissing screech of the approaching buses was heard. All the ladies, including their spouses, went to meet the buses with their hurriedly packed luggage. The hotel staff had their possessions with them as well, although they were more in control with their emotions.

I was the only one who hadn’t bothered to pack and no one had noticed that in the flurry.

I slipped a letter into Natasha’s flailing hands as she was scrambling onto the bus. It was a contract to the Nohenwiwht Technologies Corporation. I was staying behind. I don’t know why, but there was this feeling that I should wait for something. I can’t really explain it.

The buses left almost the moment they arrived. I was left standing alone at the hotel entrance, watching the buses speed away like the Day of Judgement was eating up the road behind them. I went back into the hotel, ate a ton of food, took two sleeping pills and went to bed early.

CHAPTER 6: ISOLATION

Today’s the first day in isolation. The news on the telly said that it’s too late to retrieve me. Apparently, they only found out that I wasn’t with them was when everyone was safely in their homes. Natasha, according to the news reporter, freaked out and fainted when Arthur called her and asked whether I was with her because when he called my house phone, obviously no one answered.

I keep wondering how ignorant people can be.

________________________________________

My second day in isolation. I received a call from a mysterious man:

“Hello?”
“Mr. Nohenwiwht?”
“Yes, speaking.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“How the hell will I know who you are if you haven’t told me who you are?”
“…”

Then I hear the phone tone. Honestly, people can be stupid at some point.

But then again, there was that message I kept putting off since the departure. I went to the computer and went through it once more.

I didn’t turn off the computer until late at night.

________________________________________

I had slept on the keyboard last night. Now I have t, y, f, g, h, v, b and n on my face. At least no one’s around to see my face printed.

I think I might’ve found his name. There were a lot of “I am” in the description he gave me. Then I took out the first letter on each of those sentences and came up with Bason. To me, that kind of name belongs to a rapper.

I got another call again. It was Natasha. She was panicky and worried when she spoke. I thought she was going to have a heart attack. She apologised over and over again about not making sure that I was on the bus and how terrible she felt about leaving me there. She went on and on and on until I told her if she had read the letter I gave her. She said no, so I ordered her to read it. She sounded kind of insecure at the moment, so I thought being a bit firm would help her respond more quickly. I hung up the phone and went for a few minutes to put my laundry into the washing machine while I waited for her to call back.

I hadn’t expected her to call back so quickly. When I came back to the room, my phone was ringing like I’d left the caller hanging on for an hour or so. I answered and received a flurry of “Oh my God, are you okay?” and “Speak to me, for God’s sake!” before I could even say anything. I switched off the phone and plugged the charger into the socket. I know that sounds mean, but I cannot stand listening to people blubber or scream hysterically, especially over the phone.

Then someone called to the reception. You could hear the ringing quite well from my room. I rushed down to answer it.

“Mr. Nohenwiwht?”
“Call me Fatern. What is it?”
“Your intern called in this morning. You are stuck at the hotel due to the approaching storm?”
“Yes.”
“I’m from the electrical company the hotel pays to. I’ll have a few people to lay some heavy-industrial wires that’ll endure the storm to provide you with electricity. Also, the water supply company is currently building a water retrieval system to obtain drinkable water from the river for you.”
“I see. Thank you.”
“In addition to that, the radio station will be extending its radio frequency territories to reach your area. I hope you like Maria Mentor’s voice.”
“I hope I will.”
“Also, a local supermarket has obligated to send you at least 2 tonnes worth of fresh food, 4 tonnes of frozen food and 8 tonnes of snacks with at least 37 gallons worth of drinks if so happens that the water system freezes up during your stay at the hotel. The hotel manager has told us that there is at least 27 tonnes worth of food in their kitchens, but the weather forecasts have predicted that the ‘Un’ season will last longer than expected, although they cannot estimate how long. It would be good to prepare before the storm blows in.”
“I- thanks.”
“Also, Fatern, the trucks will be automated by technology from your corporation to drive to the hotel. At the moment, the government has issued a curfew for the public and it will be impossible to send you the food in half an hour when the trip takes 3 hours.”
“I see. What’s the situation there?”
“The storm clouds can be easily seen from the town council. For what I can tell, I hope that hotel’s been restructured to withstand violent winds.”
“…”
“Don’t worry, Fatern; the trucks will arrive at the hotel before the storm comes.”
“I certainly hope so. Why the sudden help?”
“Your insurance manager called the Mayor this morning and said that if we didn’t help you and you died all successful stock markets from your corporation and other companies you sponsored will immediately go to your brother in Miami, leaving the rest of the town penniless.”
“You mean I hold this town’s future?”
“Yes. Well, I better go; my work has doubled since everyone wants to make sure that they get electricity in their homes and we’re seriously short of workers at the moment.”
“Well, good luck.”
“You too, Fatern. I wish you well.”

I was now worried shitless. From the things he was telling me (and it was a hell lot of things to say), the storm’s pretty much going to change the situation I was in. I can’t say what convinced me to stay on in this wretched hotel. I decided to check my inbox instead of mulling over the entire situation I placed myself in.

Nothing. There wasn’t a single message in the inbox, yet I don’t recall deleting anything.

Someone’s here. And whoever it is, he’s been in my room.

________________________________________

The fourth day in isolation isn’t going so well. The trucks came as the guy said and I unloaded all of the food and drinks into the kitchen. There were a few freezers that were completely empty, so I organised all the frozen food in them. The drinks were left outside of the fridges, since the air was cold enough to keep them chilled. I’ve been wearing at least two coats I found in the laundry since I woke up today.

Also, the corporation must’ve been sneaky, because they’ve hidden 3 trunks worth of tech inside the snack pile. I’ve taken the liberty of hooking up half of the equipment there in my room and downloading all the information in my current laptop in three of the seven laptops they sent. The rest remains in the two remaining trunks and a pile of clothes occupy the empty one. A new pile of clothes was also sneaked in. There were mostly coats, scarves, gloves, shoes and socks. A premium pack of underwear was found amongst the mess, too.

Everyone seems to be chipping into assisting my stay, because there was a pink towel made by Oz. I’m using it as a makeshift carpet next to my bed. It’s comfy for my feet.

________________________________________

Today, my fifth day in isolation, I achieved the impossible; I disassembled three truck motors with their fuel tanks intact in 15 minutes.

It was pretty much a botched job, if you ask me. Last night had a thought running about my head while looking at the trucks that were parked in front of the hotel, using the truck motors as a source of energy so happens if the electricity fails on me, even with those ‘heavy industrial wires’ the man from the electrical company had said. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should be doing something. It didn’t go away today when I woke up and was having my breakfast.

Then something must’ve snapped in me, because I was rushing out in only my pyjamas and a furry brown pair of slippers I’d scavenged from one of the rooms with a wrench. 8 minutes later, I was hastily attending to the second truck’s motor while I left the first motor I’d pulled out on the floor. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I just unscrewed the bolts attaching the motor to the truck and hauled it into the lobby. Then I shut the doors and locked it tight.

I was back to my old self when I’d eaten some bags of Crunchy Chick-lot Crisps in the comfort of my room, watching some videos on my laptop. Surprisingly, the corporation’s sent me about 120 movies and at least more than 10 serial shows, with at least 5 or more seasons to them. I hadn’t the strength to plug the DVD player to the telly, so the laptop was convenient. I worry a little about it, though. It could break down if I use it too much simply to watch shows. Luckily, the corporation thought of it, too. I’ve got at least 7 laptops at my disposal.

Also, I’ve got 32 computer and video games respectively. After looking around the hotel with a powerful flashlight and a heavy wrench (I’m still kind of cautious about the unknown person that might’ve remained in the hotel) I found an up-to-date video gaming console. It’s really cool when I’d figure out how to use it. You sort of insert the CD into the controllers and play it like a Playstation™, except this one looks a lot different from the versions I’ve ever seen. It’s quite sleek, very stylish and very flat. Playstation™ consoles ares more on the boxy side, if you ask me.

It’s got a name, I think. Someone apparently tried to scratch it out with a knife or something, but I think it’s Trapped™.

You marvel at the fact that the machine’s name could be so common, yet pretty cool at the same time.

________________________________________

Today’s the sixth day in isolation. I’ve managed to convert one of the motors into a generator of sorts for the telly. I’ve also extended the antennas on the telly, because I couldn’t watch the news properly yesterday.

“As far as we know, the storm’s getting worse. It hasn’t technically reached our little town, but it is approaching rapidly towards it. Experts say that the storm may arrive in roughly 7 hours, but Mayor Newman has advised everyone strongly to return to their homes before then. Also, all civilians must retreat to their basements or their neighbour’s basement when the county-wide emergency alarm is-“

That’s when I lost the signal. And also the first time I started swearing strongly at a telly.

I took my sleeping pill afterwards to help me sleep the rage off.

________________________________________

My phone rang early this morning. I answered but no one replied my greeting, so I turned off the phone and pulled the wire from its socket. Also, I watched Everybody Loves Raymond today. Now I’ve only got a few more seasons to go. Love the comedy.

My seventh day in isolation is going great. I haven’t been preoccupied in troubling thoughts for the whole day. But, I’m still worried about the town. I haven’t had anything to watch on any of the channels. Just static.

What’s the most scariest thing to do in an empty hotel is to listen to television static. It somehow adds to the eerie feeling of ghosts to it.

Ha! Ghosts! What is my imagination up to?

________________________________________

I realise I should keep track of the dates. My first day in isolation was the 5th of August. Since today’s the eighth day of isolation, logically it should be the 13th of August, the actual first day of the Painful season of Hover River. However, when I woke up, the air was unbearably cold and the river was frozen in motion. I’m now wearing at least 5 coats and 3 layers of cloth over my legs. I’m also wearing a pair of army boots that fit me perfectly and warm my feet up nicely.

It’s kinda difficult to walk around the place when you’ve been wrapped up in so many layers of clothes. I feel like a toddler going to the army.

I wonder if the manager refits the windows to prevent the cold from coming in. I must find his number and call him to check soon, because the drinks in the kitchen had frozen solid when I went there for breakfast this morning and the food in the freezer was about as cold as the outside air.

Sleeping through the catastrophe is not an option at the moment, at least not until I find a way to keep warm without using the radiator, which has already broken down due to the cold. After I took a nap from lugging tons of frozen food out of the freezers (no point using them when the air’s cold enough) and pulling the bags of drinks up into my room, I woke up an hour later to find myself covered in a very thin layer of frost. I’ve pulled up one of the mattresses in the neighbouring room to cover the window and keep most of the cold out. It’s dark, but I linked an additional cable from a lamp to the converted motor and ran the motor at a low speed. I think I should be able to have enough light in my room whenever I wish.

A lot of problems keep erupting. Firstly, all the hotel phones won’t work, so I’m to rely on a wireless internet module to keep myself updated with the world. But, as you know it, fate likes to balance out the good and bad times, so the module fails to work if in use for at least an hour.

Also, no one has sent me an e-mail since yesterday. I wonder if the storm’s taken out the town. I can see the storm clouds from the lobby doors through the glass windows. No wonder everyone’s all excited about the storm. It looks like God decided to change the cotton-look clouds usually had and displayed it for all to see, except it looks like something from Satan’s closet and made of tissue paper you see stuck on the restroom ceiling sometimes. I could swear I saw an evil dragon head shape in the clouds.

And another thing, now that the radiator’s broken, I’ve decided to use it as spare parts. Well, if I need spare parts, that is.

I took my mind off things by playing games on Trapped™.  My character, Samurai Chan, keeps dying whenever the evil wizard appears. Thank goodness for infinite revivals I managed to unlock at the 2nd level.