Spa

It was an Alfred Hitchcock setting. It was a resort on the city’s edge, facing the sea, accessible only if you have a car or if a tricycle driver is foolish enough to take you there. The resort’s name wasn’t even engraved in its façade, nor was there any sign announcing its name. We only learned about the resort from a few well placed posters advertising its spa services. The services were intricately described to lure out-of-towners who want some royal pampering.

We arrived past dinner time. Save for the occasional barking of the resident dog, there was no sound to be heard, just the soft rustling of waves crashing against shore rocks. The caretaker smiled an uncertain smile when she saw us approach the counter. There was only her son watching TV in a rather spacious receiving area.

The fact that only one of the brick cottages were lighted did not escape my attention. The place was eerily dark. They didn’t bother to turn on their lawn lights. The place gave me the creeps but we inquired anyway. I figured that it could just be my overly active imagination at work.

The cost of the services they offer was indeed a steal and no unfounded feeling of dread would keep us away from enjoying a royal massage at pauper’s prices. But curiosity got the better of me and I asked to be shown the accommodations they have. The caretaker just mentioned the number of rooms but I insisted in seeing the insides of the cottages.

She took us to a quaint room facing the beach. It has a magnificent view. The moon was clearly reflected on the sea, swaying in tune with the sea’s ripples. I opened a side window that gave me an unobstructed view to a hut.

“For solemn drinking” she said, when she noticed me intently observing the pillar in the middle hut.

The pillar was a live tree, gnarled and huge. Then I saw it move. I thought it was just the wind playing tricks on me. Then I saw a limb. It couldn’t be. Still I looked uneasily. Another moment passed and the moon came out from behind a cloud. I clearly noted a little boy’s torso and left hand beside the tree trunk. I laughed and mentioned this to the caretaker and even asked the SO to have a look.

The caretaker laughed a hollow laugh and the SO acted as if she had seen a ghost. Suddenly she wanted to go home. I told the caretaker that we will come back the following day and spend a night there. In my head I was thinking that there’s no way I’m going back to that place again.

ooOoo

fence
I definitely saw it or him. I wish I didn’t, but he was there dressed in moonlight, hiding behind that big tree trunk that served as that hut’s pillar. He tried not to move pretending to be the tree, but he was there– I saw him. What designs does he have for us? We only want a massage, why is he watching? I felt the hairs on my arms and at the back of my head stand up. I laughed to fend off the creeping horror I felt. I made a joke to the caretaker saying that there’s somebody watching from outside the room. I even asked the SO to have a look. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

the SO
I saw his eyes. Those were the only things I saw. They weren’t blazing. Just staring directly straight at me. Accusing even. Oh God, I wanna go home.

the caretaker
Oh shit why did he have to show himself? This place is going to the doghouse because of them. Nobody want’s to stay here anymore. I don’t want to stay here anymore.