"Some places are like people: some shine and some don't."

The afternoon went well – I giggled a bit as the high school reunion band replaced the gospel singers downstairs. It was quite noisy in our conference room at times today, but I retained as much focus as possible. It’s a friendly meeting, to be honest. A bit informal, pretty casual and with lots of breaks – all containing food. I had the muffin that saved my morning – I was hungry after skipping breakfast. Then a forgettable buffet lunch followed by an unforgettable dessert that I believe to be a half pound of pure chocolately goodness.

Then I had my pretty hike, followed by the poster session where people stopped not only to ask questions, but to chat. It’s easy smiles rather than scowling focus. We laugh and get to know who asks good questions and who makes long statements. And when we adjourn and line up for the elevators that only hold 6 people, it’s not an unpleasant wait. It’s a good environment, I think.

“This hotel reminds me of The Shining.” Sharon said at dinner. I met her that morning when she sat next to me at the table in the sunshine. We both frowned when someone closed our curtain and plunged the room into sleepy dimness. Then we talked at the end of one coffee break, and I found her in the lobby as we waited to be seated for the evening meal that was provided to us.

I had just told her of the tapping that kept me awake last night – tap, tap, tap – all night long. At about 2 second intervals. I just couldn’t acclimate and relax with the constant noise. So I had about 3 hours of sleep last night and relied on the coffee and muffin, then lunch and chocolate, then soda and cookie, then soda and cheesecake square to keep me alert. The food has been quite good.

“Don’t say that!” I said, likely too loudly since I’d had 1/3 of the bottle of white wine. It was provided with the meal and with only 6 of us drinking the 2 bottles, I shared the Chardonnay with only 2 of my dinner companions. I do believe I’m intoxicated. “That movie was scary.” I said more softly, deciding I was glad it had been years since I'd seen the film.

“I think the tapping was a ghost.” She said confidently and I looked around at the pretty dining room in which we sat. I don’t remember how the hotel looked in The Shining, thank goodness, so I decided to believe she was mistaken and made no verbal response.

“When I got here last night – after midnight – I almost didn’t get out the car. I didn’t want to come in here! In the old building in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but darkness!”

“There isn’t anything around here.” I agreed. Even if I had a car apart from the one Boss rented, it’s a drive to even make it off the property. Let alone to a main road. And even there, you don’t find very much.

We had already joked about the menu – the warning that everyone noticed about eating undercooked meat.

“They’re going to give us food poisoning.” She predicted, and I laughed at her.

“Get the lasagna.” I advised. “There’s no meat in that.”

She didn’t, and I later laughed when I looked at her plate.

“Straight for the mad cow disease?” I teased when looking at her prime rib. “No screwing around for you.”

“Salmonella.” She said lightly with a nod toward my chicken covered in crab meat and hollandaise. And I gestured my agreement with a smile as I chewed my delightful Mediterranean vegetable medley then nearly cooed at the quality of sour cream that covered my baked potato. We had started with fresh pineapple that was covered in an sauce with orange zest and brown sugar. There were pecans and slivers of orange on top too. Then came salad and rolls, after which I was pretty full. But the entrée was fantastic – the black forest cake I chose for dessert even more so.

I was shaking my head over the treat, impressed by the quality of the cream cheese frosting, when I thought of something else.

“Not to freak you out.” I said, sipping my third glass of wine. “But on the hike I took this afternoon? The path didn’t go anywhere. I went down the hill for a long time, then had to come back up to the inn. No other options.”

I continued while she closed her eyes and laughed around her bite of cheesecake. “It looked like it went somewhere, but it didn’t. Just ended at this scary house if you went left and had forbidding signs about private property if you went right. So I had to come back to the hotel. I didn’t think about it at the time, but you might be right. We might be staying here forever.”

“Or until they kill us.” She predicted.

“Oh! And if you take the other path – the one to the waterfall? They say you need to be careful because of the activities – the “skeet shooting,” if you will. But perhaps they’re just shooting at guests who foolishly try to leave!” I deduced, quite brilliantly, I thought, especially given my overly full, overly tipsy mindset. “You even get shot if you try to look at the waterfall, and I wanted to see it.” I said sadly, deciding I’d go tomorrow, threat of bullets or no.

“Have you seen the staircase?” She asked excitedly as we both latched on to our horror movie in the making.

“I have, actually. I wonder why they didn’t finish it – make it pretty.”

“Why? It’s just a doomed escape route.” I giggled at her question and nodded.

“The elevator is scary too.” I noted, and it is – lots of shaking and pausing and bouncing around.

But we finished our desserts and wine, declined coffee that might keep us awake (The ghost has apparently stopped tapping tonight, so I’m hoping to rest.) and took the shaking elevator to our separate floors.

I didn’t want to come, I mused as I entered my room again, abandoning dress clothes in favor of pajamas, contacts for glasses, and makeup for a freshly washed face. But this was good for me – a change of scenery in a beautiful hotel with impeccable service. It’s not scary at all in reality, though you could talk yourself into believe it was out of a horror movie if you wanted. It’s true of anything – I see what I want to see. And though I don’t remember deciding to be happy, it appears that I am. I’m quite content and I think some of the peacefulness comes from The Great Divorce. I’m a bit silly right now as well, and I’m sure that came from the bottle of wine and the good company at dinner.

So, if I somehow don’t make it out of here, at least you know it was a very pleasant place for me to be.