Read The Foreman Page 4


  “Ah! What the hell?” he yelled.

  The foreman pulled up his pant leg and began shaking his leg to get it off. Instead of falling to the ground, it wrapped around his lower leg and absorbed into his skin. He screamed and brushed at it with his hands, then became calm and silent. He lowered his pant leg back down and stood still, staring down at the object. The workers all rushed down to see what had happened.

  “You alright, boss?” asked one of the men.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, no thanks to you guys. Just got bit by a bug or something. Get me another shovel.”

  Paulie quickly got the boss a new shovel. The foreman used it to finish prying the object loose from the ground. He tossed the shovel down and bent over to pick it up.

  “Okay, now back to work, or are you guys afraid you’ll find a caterpillar next?” the foreman asked condescendingly.

  The men sighed and gave him dirty looks, but went back to work. The foreman carried the object up the hill and into his office. He placed it down on the floor below the window and sat at his desk to continue his paperwork.

  Five minutes passed when suddenly he looked up at the object and said,” If you think it will help, sure.”

  He stood and went to the door, opening it and yelled out, “Dave! Get in here now!”

  Down in the construction site, Dave threw down his shovel and began heading up the hill to the trailer. The foreman went back to his desk, leaving the door open for Dave.

  “What’s up, boss?” asked Dave.

  “Come in and close the door,” replied the foreman.

  Dave stepped in to the office and closed the door behind him. The trailer shook back and forth for a few seconds then stopped. The door opened once again. The foreman stuck his head out, yelled for Paulie, and returned to his desk. Paulie immediately headed up the hill to the office.

  “You yelled?” asked Paulie.

  “Indeed I did,” replied the foreman. “Come on in and close the door.”

  Paulie stepped in and looked around, then asked, “Hey, wasn’t Dave just in here? What happened to Dave?”

  "Don't worry about Dave," the foreman responded. "Dave's taken care of. Close the door."

  Paulie turned and closed the door behind him. The muffled screams that came from inside the trailer couldn't be heard all the way down at the construction site.

  Standing alone in his office, the foreman looked down at the object again and said, "If you think it’s best."

  He picked up his newfound treasure and exited his office, leaning it against the bottom of the stairs on his way. He then headed down the hill toward the construction site, stopping first at a shed labeled explosives. Using his key, he retrieved a stick of dynamite with a long fuse and continued down the hill.

  As he neared the destination, the foreman lit the fuse. Without hesitation, he threw it down into the middle of the construction site behind a pile of materials, out of sight of the workers. He then turned and casually walked away, smiling. He lifted his prized possession and continued walking. Behind him, a powerful explosion shook the ground. The foreman continued walking without even a blink.

  He looked down at the object he was carrying, nodded his head, and said, "You're welcome."

  Eleven

  “If your cameras don’t record sound, then how’s Jeff speaking on the video?” asked Sara.

  “I don’t know how to explain it. It should be impossible,” replied Bill. “The cameras don’t even have a microphone.”

  “Okay, so then who’s the guy with the glove? You’ve been here longer than me. Have you seen anyone wearing a white glove?”

  “No, but I think it’s the same guy in both videos.”

  “So you think there’s only one person behind Jeff’s disappearance, and all those other people over the years?”

  “More than likely and if I had to guess, it’s the same guy who also dropped it off at the door before.”

  “So we still have no idea who it is. You couldn’t see his face so all we have to go on is the white glove in the videos.”

  “I have an idea. You stay here, Sara, I’m going to head down and check out the pool area.”

  “Why the pool?” she asked.

  “The guy down at the front desk told me earlier that it’s closed because someone died in there a few weeks ago. With all this weird stuff going on, I’m beginning to wonder if it was really an accident like they say.”

  “But if it was weeks ago, do you expect to even find any evidence or anything?”

  “It’s worth a shot. Who knows, maybe they got careless and something will be obvious.”

  “You think you’ll be so lucky?”

  “In all the years I’ve been doing this, someone is always careless and misses something,” replied Bill. “Stay here. Keep yourself safe. Don’t open the door for anyone but me. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Sara nodded and gave him a hug. Bill headed out and Sara locked the deadbolt and safety latch behind him. She stood at the door and watched out the peephole as Bill walked down the hallway. Once he was out of sight, she went back to the bed to lie down. A few moments later, as she was beginning to get drowsy, she again heard the voice of her son call out to her.

  “Mom, get out of here.”

  Sara sat up on the bed and looked around the room.

  “Jeff? Jeff! Where are you? Are you okay?”

  Almost as if it was a response to her questions, there came a knock on the door. Sara remembered Bill telling her to not open the door for anyone except himself. If this was Bill, then why was he knocking and not using his key?

  “Who is it?” Sara called out.

  “It’s me, Bill. Can you open the door, please?”

  “I thought you were going to check out the pool.”

  “Right. I forgot something. Let me in.”

  “Why don’t you use your key?” Sara asked and she stood up from the bed and began approaching the door.

  “What do you think I forgot?” Bill responded with a snarky undertone. “The door to the pool only opens with your room key.”

  Sara had been in enough hotels during the course of her life to know that Bill was correct. Nearly all hotels she had ever been in required a room key to open the door to the pool. She never knew the real reason why, but she was certain it was to prevent everyone except paying customers to access the facilities.

  “Come on, let me in,” said Bill.

  Sara checked the peephole and instead of being able to see Bill, it was black. She couldn’t see anyone, even the hallway. She remembered Bill saying that this happened when the mysterious man dropped off the camera to the room.

  “I can’t see your face in the peephole. Slide your ID under the door.”

  “I can’t. I seem to have forgotten my wallet too.”

  “Well, that’s convenient. How do I know it’s really you?”

  “Who else would it be? Come on, let me in,” he repeated.

  “I don’t know,” Sara answered. “It seems kind of suspicious to me. What was the name of your dog?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “A test, just answer it.”

  “Come on, you’ve known me long enough.”

  “Stop skirting the question and just answer it, then,” Sara demanded.

  “Stinky!” Bill yelled. “Happy? Your middle name is Katherine. We’ve known each other for thirty years. We met in college. Your husband Jack died a few years ago after you moved to Florida. Good enough?”

  “Good enough,” she said and proceeded to unlock the door.

  She opened the door expecting to find Bill standing in the hallway, but he wasn’t. He was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was greeted with laughter and a cruel taunting voice that called her a fool, just like in her phone call from the previous night.

  Frightened, she slammed the door shut and locked it. She leaned with her back against the door, slid down to a seated position, and began crying. More knocking came at the door.

 
“Sara? Are you crying in there? Is everything okay?” asked Bill. “What’s wrong? Let me in.”

  “Go to hell!” Sara yelled.

  The knocking continued.

  Twelve

  With a swipe of his room key, Bill entered the pool’s room. Just as Maurice had told him, it was definitely closed. In fact, the pool was completely drained and was undergoing a cleaning and receiving a fresh coat of paint. At least, that is how it appeared. Considering it was a weekday, there was not a single person anywhere to be seen doing any work. It actually looked like no work had been done in quite a while and the whole thing was staged.

  Near the edge of the pool were stacks of five-gallon buckets of epoxy paint. Some of them were obviously opened at one point. Lying on the ground next to them on some newspaper were the used rollers. The epoxy on the roller was already hardened. Whoever was doing this work left everything as if they were only going to be gone a short time. No experienced person would have left his or her equipment in this manner.

  On the wall opposite the entrance door was a large, round mirror, about three feet in diameter. The mirror was framed inside a golden sun with large curved rays, almost like a cartoon drawing. The glass of the mirror was cracked and the sun frame looked old and tarnished, almost antique in every way. Bill suddenly realized it looked familiar. The shape and color of the object was basically a larger scale of the nametag that Maurice had been wearing when he checked in to the hotel.

  From across the room, Bill noticed that the reflection in the mirror wasn’t that of this room, but what appeared to be an office. He began to approach the mirror and with a blink of his eyes, the reflection instantly changed back to normal. Standing in front of it, Bill was now able to see the pool room and himself in the reflection, as expected. He put his hand up to it and waved back and forth, checking to see if it was real. He tapped on the surface. It sure sounded and felt like glass to him.

  He backed away and noticed a door to the left that was labeled maintenance. He figured it would be locked, but it wasn’t. Bill opened the door but it was just an empty closet. Aside from the strange mirror, there really wasn’t anything in the room that suggested foul play. The only thing he’d found was that they were indeed cleaning the pool as Maurice had said, but it either wasn’t a high priority or the workers were lazy.

  “Nothing to see here,” Bill said aloud. “Worth a shot, I guess.”

  Bill left the pool area and headed back to his room. Once he was out of sight, the room began to fill with a bright white light, emanating from the glass of the mirror. It continued to build until a sudden flash came, like that from a camera but a thousand times brighter. When the flash faded, the light in the room returned to normal.

  Bill, oblivious of what had just happened in the pool area, continued to make his way back to the room where he left Sara. When he approached the door and he swiped his card, the knob turned but the door would not open. It was still locked from the inside.

  He knocked on the door and called out to Sara. As he stood waiting for her to answer, he realized he could hear crying on the other side.

  “Sara? Are you crying in there? Is everything okay?” asked Bill.

  “Go to hell!” Sara yelled.

  “What’s wrong? Let me in. You have it locked on the inside.”

  “Go away!” she yelled. “Leave me alone!”

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “You tell me. You knock and knock and knock, trying to get me to open the door. You say you forgot your key. You even know your dog’s name. How do you know that? Who are you?”

  “Of course I know my dog’s name. Sara, what’s gotten into you?”

  “You know my middle name. No one knows my middle name. I don’t even use it.”

  “Yes, I do. I know a lot about you. I’ve known you forever. You know me too.”

  “I thought I did, but you wouldn’t play that kind of prank on me.”

  “I didn’t play any prank on you, Sara. I just got back from the pool. I have my key. I didn’t forget it like you said. I also have my phone and wallet.”

  “So call me from it and slide your ID under the door. The other Bill didn’t have any of your personal items, but he knew things.”

  “Fine, hang on.”

  Bill removed his driver’s license from his wallet and slid it under the door. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed Sara’s cell. He could hear it ring on the other side of the door. Sara grabbed her phone of the bed and saw that the caller ID showed Bill on the display. She headed back to the door and checked the peephole. It was not dark like last time and she could clearly see Bill standing in the hallway.

  “Okay. I believe you,” said Sara, who proceeded to unlock the door.

  When she opened the door, Bill was standing there with a concerned look on his face.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said as he entered the room.

  Thirteen

  Police Chief Evans was sitting behind his desk doing paperwork and chewing a wad of tobacco. He didn’t care if it was legal or not, he was the chief. Every few pages he turned, he leaned over and spit into his garbage can. The police department had already been through three members of cleaning staff. Each time one would resign for being forced to clean up after the Chief’s nasty habit, a new one would take their place. Many cited the disgustingness of the job as their primary reason for quitting. One man had even said that his job was not cleaning up chew spit from the floor, and he knew of barnyard animals that were less filthy. Evans didn’t care. Finding a new cleaner was easy, much easier than quitting his habit.

  As he continued to turn the pages, there came a knock at his door. Captain Murphy poked his head in.

  “Um, excuse me, Chief.”

  “What is it, Murphy? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “Yes. I thought you’d wanna know that someone is snooping around the hotel and was here earlier today asking questions. In particular to Jeff Parker.”

  “Christ, Murphy, of course I know. It’s my job to know. Do you think I sit here all day with my thumb up my ass?” he yelled, picking up a stapler and hurling it across the room at Murphy.

  “Sorry,” said Captain Murphy, after ducking the stapler.

  “Now you listen to me. Your job is to do as I say, and right now I say to shut the hell up. Go back to your hole and wait until I give you further instructions,” he said firmly.

  Captain Murphy left the room, closing the door gently behind him to prevent being yelled at again. The chief picked up his phone and started dialing a number. Before he pressed the last two digits, he froze and looked up at the sun-shaped mirror on his wall.

  “Yes, I know,” said the chief. “Yes, I’m working on it. She only wants to find her son. Yes, but I—”

  He stopped and stared at the mirror.

  “Yes, you don’t have to tell me. I know they are needed for the plan.”

  He paused again, as if waiting for someone else to finish their side of the conversation.

  “Yes. I said I would take care of it. You won’t have to tell me again. You’re right, I should be going.”

  The chief reached inside his jacket and touched his chest. With that, the sun-shaped mirror began to glow. The brightness grew until an extremely bright flash filled the room. When the light returned to normal, the chief was gone.

  Fourteen

  Bill and Sara sat on the bed of the hotel room. Bill listened intently as Sara laid out the events that had unfolded while Bill was investigating the pool. When she had finished telling the story, Bill was speechless. He stared at her for a moment with a bewildered gaze and wondered how it was that this faux-Bill could possibly know so many of the personal details of his life.

  So many thoughts ran through his head as he tried to find a logical explanation for Sara’s experience. It was possible she was losing her mind because of the recent loss of her husband and now Jeff. He knew her for too long now and didn’t want that to be the reason, but it
was in fact the only actual possibility that made any sense. However, since arriving he had seen hands appear from nowhere on camera, sounds on video where there can’t be sounds, and a clerk that appeared from thin air. Perhaps, he thought, he had to rule out practical reasoning this one time and believe Sara’s story.

  “So, if what you’re saying is true, then we can’t separate again,” said Bill.

  “Of course it’s true. I wouldn’t make that up!” snapped Sara. “Besides, I’m not that imaginative.”

  “Well, we need to stick together from now on. Whoever’s behind this somehow knows our history, which is impossible. That’s all personal information.”

  “Maybe it’s someone we both know?”

  “That would explain how they knew the answers to your questions, but it’s doubtful since this missing-person problem has been ongoing for years. We aren’t the first.”

  Bill and Sara sat quietly and thought about other possible explanations. Neither of them were able to rationalize the situation.

  Breaking the silence, Bill said, “I think we need to check around some more. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find the guy wearing a white glove.”

  “I’m a little scared that he might find us first.”

  “Stick next to me, never more than three feet away. I have my gun, God forbid it should come to that, and a knife as a last resort. I want to find out more about that front desk clerk too.”

  “Yeah, he gives me the creeps,” said Sara.

  “And he certainly seems to know more than he’s letting on,” added Bill. “Maybe he’s involved. Maybe he’s covering for someone. He knows something, I’m sure of it. Call it an old policeman’s intuition.”

  “Okay, old policeman, lead the way,” Sara joked.

  The two left the room and headed down to the lobby. In identical fashion as before, the lobby was empty and the clerk, Maurice, was nowhere to be seen. Bill, not wasting any time, approached the front desk and rigorously rang the bell.

  “Hello! Maurice, where are you?” Bill called out.

  Unlike every other time that either Sara or Bill had encountered Maurice, he casually walked out of the office and up to the desk. He placed his hand atop the bell to silence it. He looked at the two standing in front of him and knew immediately that they had some kind of concern. He had been in hospitality long enough to be able to read body language fairly well, and their bodies were giving him a world of bad vibes.