The Lurkers' Domain

Rose gets off the bus at the Las Vegas Greyhound station tired and worn out. With only a backpack and denim coat to carry, she follows the crumpled piece of paper directions to a small hotel off the beaten path, or strip, to coin a phrase.

It's mid morning, the suns already quite warm for a winters days. Degrees and worlds away from where she started in Bridgeport Connecut. Homeless bravely came up to the new fresh bunch asking for money, change, anything. One man even eyed a mans watch starting a bid before the man could say no. The scene was already getting quite loud when she dove into her map and walked away as fast as possible. Behind her, she could hear the shouts of the man being mugged and beaten from obviously more than one vagrant. "What have you gotten yourself into young lady?" she whispered to herself, steadying her nerves.

The neighborhood showed no signs of getting better. Broken windows, crumbling buildings, vacant stores, etc. completely surrounded her, seemingly never ending. But above these decrepid shells, in the distance the hotels of illustrious wealth demanded attention. Beaconing every last soul on its soul to come into its grasp, for either wealth or disaster.

Stealing herself, she found the street for the hotel. "'Las Vegas International Suites' Reasonable prices, quiet, comfortable weekly rentals." Promises the paper, pulling her through the slums of Vegas. Already paid for, and her quickest stop to freshen up after a grissly 5 day bus ride, she wouldn't be deterred from her surroundings, no matter how questionable.

Finally after breaking from the once called residences, there were older taller buildings. Offices? An old gym? A soup kitchen? Nope, it was the hotel alright. "Oh geesh" she sighed to herself. A few residences perched themselves on the front steps, eyeing everyone who came within shooting distance, hopefully not. "What have you done?" she muttered to herself as she crossed the street directly towards the 'guardians' of the hotel.

Spying the office sign inside the building Rose waited patiantly for two of the men to move aside so she could enter. Thanking them politely an older man, maybe about 30, slammed his hand on the door before her hand touched the handle. "What's a red ridin' hood doin' here? Are you lost honey?" He sneered down, nostrils flaring catching a whif of perfume. "If you don't mind, I'm checking in. If you please..." Gesturing him to step aside. A man from behind, that moved aside for her chimed in "A sweet little lamb in the wolves den? Can it be pops?"

An elderly man shuffles around the corner within the building, tapping on the door the other man was holding shut with his wooden cane "What the Hell is going on out here?! I've got a business to run, yours is NOT to run away MY guests!" Looking through his scratched specks, he sees a young visibly shaken young lady maybe about 20, 21 years with vibrant red curls down to her shoulders, and vibrant green eyes intense enough to possibly melt the glass of the door so she could get in he'd imagine. "Roslyne Sullivan?" The man removed his hand from the glass door, "Yes sir" she replied through her human blockade. The elderly man glinted a bit with joy that she hadn't run away by now. The three men at the stairs all turned to the owner, waiting. He smiled at them, "You've done your job, you screened, now let the poor dear pass for Gods sake!" Immediately the door swung open and she was in, thankful. Raising his cane at the men one last time "And you know that the plants need to be watered, sweep the steps, and wash something for crine out loud! The place is starting to look like a dump! Lazy good for nothings! Gargoyles, that what you are right now!"

Door shutting, he turned towards Rose extending his hand "My names Father Ray, welcome to the Vegas International Suites." He said with such pride raising his cane to show the expanse of the inside of the building. He shuffled along the derilict hallway towards a front desk. Rose admired the man, probably in his late 80's, stepping behind the once grand mahogany front desk. It was lovingly oiled, shining as it would the day it was made.

He looked over a large book, muttered a number, and reached for a silver key. "Your room my dear is 411. The fourth floor, to the left. Stairs are to your right, through the sanctuary to the back. Mass is every morning at 7am SHARP! Dinner is at 5pm SHARP! My boys will show you where to wash up before dinner. And mind you young lady, as long as you are under MY roof, these are the rules, dinner and mass." Looking over his specs, "well?" She smiled genuinely despite her exhaustion "Yes sir, thank you. 5pm and 7am sharp." With a slight curtsy that sort of slipped out, engrained into her since childhood. "Then have a good stay. Just one moment...It doesn't have a check out date here." Lingering over the handwriting one more time "No sir, I'm staying here until I settle in, job and all." He sort of pirched his lips as if he's heard that one at least a million times. "7 and 5 SHARP then." "Yes sir, good day."

With that she headed for the stairs. The Sanctuary was actually in the place a parlour should be. Wallpaper was greyed out, plaster in clumps was falling a bit here and there, air smelled very musty. With a loud bang, the A/C kicked on. Despite the condition of the building, she found the sincerity of the little chapel charming. A folding table with a red satin fabric draped over it, proudly displayed a large Virgin Mary statue on the left, a statue of St John the right and the loving Christ proudly holding out his hand for anyone was set in the center surrounded with red candles. Maticulously dusted were the rows of folding chairs for mass. Everything else seemed dusty, but the objects that mattered were in pristine condition. Despite her fear walking up, these touches seemed endearing above all else.