Enjoy Your Stay

Splash!

It's fine. Everything's fine. Just don't look at it.

A gentle breeze caresses the gauzy curtains around our cabana and stirs up the smell of top-shelf moisturizing sunscreen. Crystalline water ripples along the surface of the pool.

A crimson cloud of blood spreads under the water.

I taste chlorine. I smell blood.

It's fine. You're fine. Just don't look at it.

"Would you like to order anything from the kitchen?"

I almost jump, startled at the poolside server's sudden arrival, but I maintain my composure. I smile at him.

The server's smile doesn't reach his eyes. Those sharklike, dead eyes. I pray to God my sunglasses hide the fear in mine.

"Yes. I think I'll have a club sandwich—"

Thrashing in the pool. A voice surfaces from the water to briefly scream before it's drowned back under the water.

"—a-a-and another paloma, please," I add.

I clear my throat. I'm fine. It's fine. No reason for my voice to shake. I'm fine. Just having a nice vacation.

"Still having a good time, I hope."

"Oh yeah." I wave my hand dismissively. "Such a beautiful day."

The splashing in the pool stops.

"Room number?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to charge your order to your room?"

"Mhm."

"Room number, please?"

My mouth is dry. My upper lip is sweating. Something heavy is dragged from the pool in my periphery.

"Uh. Two-seventeen."

"Great." The server taps a few times on a waterproofed tablet. "I'll be right back with that order."

"Thank you," I rasp. I clear my throat. "Thank you."

A pool boy passes by pushing a towel cart. The bottom of the cart is saturated with blood. A limp hand pokes up out of the towels.

All he did was ask for his food to be taken back. And they did that to him.

I put on a winning smile as the pool boy passed by. He smiles back.

I gotta get out of here. But every time someone complains or tries to leave...

That happens.

As far as I know, the farthest anyone's gotten was halfway across the golf course. I saw it from my room. A golf car cut him off, and a squad of caddy girls wielding golf clubs closed in around him.

Nope. Don't think about that. It's fine. Everything's fine.

"One paloma and one club sandwich," the server said, setting the platter down beside me.

Blood. Drops of blood on my plate. Was that a fingernail?

"Everything okay?"

"Yuh-yes! Looks great. Thank you."

"I'd be happy to take it back if it's not to your liking."

"NO!" I practically shout. "Sorry. I mean, no. I'm fine. This looks—" I swallow hard. "—delicious."

"Wonderful."

He stands there staring at me.

He's waiting for me to take a bite, I realize.

I pick up half of the sandwich. The cross-section of the sandwich is blood-red and sticky.

Don't look at that.

I draw the toothpick holding the sandwich together from the bread with a shaking hand. A string of blood trails from it.

Don't look at that either.

I lick my lips and glance at the server. He blinks.

I raise the sandwich to my mouth and take a modest bite. It tastes like iron and chlorine.

"Mmm," I vocalize, dabbing the corners of my mouth with a cloth napkin.

Seemingly satisfied, the server departs.

Glancing around to make sure no one's looking, I spit out the sandwich. I pick up the paloma and take a sip. Something about the drink is off. I stir the drink with my straw to see an eyeball float through it.

I gag.

No, no, no. Don't throw up. You're fine. Everything's fine.

I get up and head to my room.

"Towel?" a pool boy asks.

"No thank you."

"Complimentary water bottle?" a girl in uniform asks.

"No, I'm fine."

I'm assaulted on all sides by customer service. By the time I get to the elevator I'm practically jogging.

"No thanks! I'm fine!"

The elevator closes. I'm shaking. I try my phone for the millionth time. There's still no signal. No wifi.

The door to the second floor opens. I speed-walk to my room, open the door, and lock it behind me.

I try to control my breathing.

"Okay," I say to myself. "No way out through the pool. Maybe the spa area. Or the restaurant."

"Enjoying your stay?"

I spin to see a woman standing by a cart of sheets and cleaning supplies.

I forgot to hang the Do Not Disturb tag on the door!

"I'm having so much fun!" I say breathlessly.

"Really?" the she says. "It sounded just now like you were looking for a way out."

She takes a step towards me. I back up against the door.

"N-n-no. I like it here. It's so nice!"

"If you have any complaints, feel free to contact the front desk. Is there anything we can to do make your stay more enjoyable?"

I shake my head. My lip quivers. I grasp after the door handle behind me. I raise a feeble shoulder in a half-shrug. "Well, I... might... think about checking out early, if... if that's, um... you know, I've got to get back to, um..."

"Of course." She wheels her cart towards me.

I open the door for her and use it like a shield, but all she does is walk by. Once she's in the hallway, she turns to me.

"Checkout time is never," she says. "Enjoy the rest of your stay."