Four miles out of town, the highway makes a gradual turn to the left. But if you take the side turn off down the gravel road, you'll end up going down the Old Gower Road. And, if you drive to the end of this road, there will be a trail that takes you to the right again. It's barely there, but you can see it through the trees. And taking this road, you'll come to a deserted town. A whole town. Five houses, a garage, and what seems to have been a hotel. Have you ever wandered through an empty hotel?
When I was younger, my friends and I would often find our way out there, and more than once, we felt that we were not alone. The houses were spooky - left over cabinets, a bed with no mattress, and in one room, a bunch of ratty, stuffed toys, all in a circle. I'm sure someone else had found them and arranged them thus. But there was this one time that made even us skeptics a little nervous.
John, Wellington and myself had gone out on a Saturday. It was a bit later in the afternoon but John had borrowed his brother's car so we weren't worried about getting away before it got dark. This time, we wanted to explore the hotel. "Urban exploration" it's called, and people do it all over the place - I think it's called that because people once used to live there, hence the 'urban' part.
"Hey, Brady!" John called to me. "Are you coming or what?"
I had been outside, looking in the windows and not seeing much. "Hang on! I'm coming!" I yelled back.
Wellington (who's parents would call their poor kid that name? ... we just called him 'Wells') had already gone in so it seemed I was the one bring up the rear. I opened the door and saw their footsteps in the dust on the floor. "Wait up!" and I dashed off in the direction of the dusty tracks.
I passed the check-in desk and the cubby holes that held the occasional key. I pushed aside a tapestry and found myself in front of a large staircase. The stairs stretched in front of me with the footprints faintly seen going up to the floor above. "Where are you guys? I can't see you!" I called out again.
I made my way up the stairs, following the footsteps, and came to a room with the door closed. Room 235, it said on the door. I knocked on the door. No answer. "This isn't funny guys," I whined. I tried the door, it was locked. "Hey! Why did you lock me out?" I asked through the door.
"Brady! Where are you?" I heard Wells call from downstairs.
I turned away from the door and went to the balcony that overlooked the staircase. Wells and John were at the bottom looking up at me. "What are you doing down there? I followed your footsteps up here," I asked over the railing.
"What do you mean? We've always been down here. And there's no footprints. What are you talking about?" John asked as he and Wells walked to the base of the staircase.
I walked back down and joined them. There were no footprints. And yet, I knew I had followed some. "There were some right there, I know there were!" I pointed to where there were dusty prints but no longer. The stairs held a slight layer of dust, not even my steps were seen!
"And where did these dusty tracks lead you?" Wells asked in a snide tone.
"To room 235, at the top of the stairs," I said.
"Well, maybe we should check this room out," John said and joined me on the ascent.
"Yeah, what will we find there? A ghost?" Wells muttered under his breath.
We got to the top of the stairs and I led them to the door.
"This isn't room 235," John noted.
"What do you mean? This is where the footprints lead me."
"Duh, can't you read?" Wells said. "This is room 234. Beside is room 236. There is no room 235."
"But I was sure," I looked at the door with a puzzled look. This was it, I am certain.
I reached out and turned the doorknob. It turned. I looked back at my two buddies. "This was locked before," I whispered.
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