Experiment in Terror 02.5 The Benson (2 page)

“And what do you want me to do?” I ask. Once again, we’re going into a film shoot more or less blind. And by we, I mean I. Dex always knows what’s going on and I’m always in the dark. I did research The Benson before biking over here and all that, but I have no clue what to do or say. There is no storyboard, no script. We just wing it and I usually end up looking like an idiot.

“Just be yourself. Ask her questions. I’ll film both of you. We’ll wander around the hotel. Then we’ll probably be allowed to go off on our own and do some exploring. I’ll give you the infrared camera this time so we can see if we pick up any hot or cold spots.”

I shiver at that thought. Using the infrared meant we’d be wandering around in the dark. Whether I’m in a lighthouse on the coast or in the New Mexican desert, the darkness still gives me the creeps. Especially now that I know there are things out there that want to hurt me. That know I’m a sort of “bait.”

By the time Pam shows up, I have finished my glass of wine. It has only left me anxious, not relaxed.

Pam is on the overweight side, similar to the way I was in high school, but unlike me, she seems to bustle with confidence. Or bustle with something. Her wide, cheery face gives her the appearance of being younger than she probably is and she speaks a mile a minute.

“You must be Perry and Dex, I recognized you!” she exclaims, beaming at us and holding out her hand. We both give it a quick shake. She points to the name
tag on her black suit. “As you can see, my name is Pam. Pam Gupta. I’m the night manager here at The Benson.”

“Thanks for having us,” Dex tells her sincerely, reaching under the table and bringing out a backpack and a camera bag.

“No, thank you,” she says putting extra emphasis on the words. “As soon as you told me who you were, I looked up your ghost show and immediately fell in love with you guys.”

Dex and I exchange a quick look.

“I mean,” she corrects herself and lets
out an awkward clip of a laugh,
“I was scared witless at the Darkhouse episode and the one in Red Fox but I was so drawn in by you two. You’re just so…so…”

“Handsome?” Dex asks, flashing her a smile and stroking his chin scruff.

She blushes and giggles. “Well, yeah I guess you are.”

I roll my eyes. Dex doesn’t need any more encouragement.

“But,” she continues, “you’re both just so…lucky!”

We look at each other again, even more confused.

“Lucky?” I ask.

“How about I explain as we walk? I don’t have much time to show you around before I start my shift.”

We get up, Dex giving the backpack of equipment to me, and we follow Pam through the lobby. For a larger woman she walks like a sprite, moving quickly between people and showering her big smile on all of them. The guests eye Dex and I curiously, intrigued by the camera he has placed up on his shoulder.

We stop before a grand staircase leading up to the second floor. I eye myself quickly in the mirror on the landing. My floral dress is sticking to my leggings in static cling, and my black hair is a mess from my motorbike helmet (and Dex’s hand). I don’t look camera worthy at all. I shrug helplessly at my reflection and look to Pam who is pointing up at the stairs.

“There’s been many sightings of one of ghostly guests walking up and down this very staircase,” she says, sounding like a chipper tour guide talking about museum pieces and not dead people.

I look at Dex beside me and see the camera is going, picking up everything Pam is saying. Sensing I’m staring at him, he reaches out and pushes me toward Pam, into the frame. I know he wants me to start acting like the host I am.

I smooth down my hair and clear my throat, stepping into the shot. “Have you seen any ghosts, Pam?”

She shakes her head quickly and looks wistful. “No, I haven’t. Come on, let’s go to the next floor.”

Not exactly the answer I was hoping for.

She scurries up the stairs and we follow, my short legs straining to keep up with her quick busybody motion.

We walk toward the elevators and as we are waiting she says, “I think you two are lucky because I’ve always wanted to see a ghost. I believe in them. So badly. But I’ve never seen one. Weird, right, considering that I run The Benson. At night.”

The elevator dings and the doors open. There’s a couple inside who eye the camera with trepidation, but we step inside with them anyway. Pam makes small talk with them as she pushes the button for the 8th floor and doesn’t mention ghosts again until the couple get out at the 5th floor.

She tilts her head at us. “I don’t like to discuss the ghosts around the guests though. People can be pretty strange about things like that.”

“I don’t blame them,” I find myself saying.

“I guess you’d know,” Pam say
s
as the elevator stops at the floor, and she leads us out into the hallway, past a rotary phone resting on top of an antique table.

She notices me eyeing it and gives it a quick wave with her hand. Her bracelets jingle
with
the motion.

“We try to keep all the original furnishings from the hotel. Adds to the class and elegance of the place, don’t you think?”

I nod, not really needing to be sold on the hotel as a whole.

Pam takes us to the right, and we walk past the rooms down to the very end
of the hall
. Dex keeps filming, even though he takes his head away from the camera.

“So, if we show The Benson in a good way,” Dex says to Pam, “any chance we can score a free hotel room for the night? I’m staying at a roach motel outside of the city, and I’m getting itchy just thinking about it.”

Pam turns around briefly and smiles at him but then spins around and keeps walking without missing a beat.

“We’ll see. Would you two be sharing the room?”

Dex automatically grins and looks down at me as we walk. I shake my head, not amused.

“No, Perry snores and kicks in her sleep,” he says.

I smack him on the shoulder and the camera shakes.

“I do not!” I protest.

“Oh, and drools,” he adds quickly.

“So you two are a couple?” Pam asks, not looking at us this time but slowing down as she nears the end of the hall.

“Only in certain situations,” I mutter under my breath.

“No, we are not. Perry is far too good for me and I am forced to make do with my Wine Babe girlfriend.”

Finally Pam stops walking and looks at him. “Wine Babe? You’re with someone from that show?”

“You’ve seen it?” Dex asks, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yes,” she says slowly, and for once her chipper look is gone. Her cheeks sag a bit. “My ex boyfriend used to drool all over that skinny, exotic one.”

“Yeah, that’s his
girlfriend. Jennifer Rodriguez,
” I inform her. She eyes me and sees that I’m none too thrilled about it either. Nothing like a hot woman to make two chubby girls feel like they’re having a bonding moment.

“Well, I’m just glad some women watch it,” Dex says, turning his attention the camera, perhaps feeling the animosity and low self-esteem just reeking from our pores.

Pam laughs and the cheery façade returns. “Don’t be silly. I don’t watch that dreadful show. They pair shiraz with Kraft Dinner. Only an idiot would watch that. Like my ex-boyfriend.”

Dex opens his mouth to say something, but I know he completely agrees. That’s the reason he quit doing camera work on Wine Babes and started up Experiment in Terror with me instead.

“Anyway,” she continues, “here we are.”

I look at the door we’ve stopped in front of: Room 818.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“This was Parker’s room,” she says ominously.

“Who is Parker?” Dex asks. I’m surprised that he doesn’t know something for once.

“Parker…” Pam starts and then trails off. She takes her keys out from her pocket; the noise of them rattling fills the hallway. It suddenly seems very empty and hollow and a weird, familiar feeling washes over me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.

The lock turns, and the door slowly creaks open. Only blackness and dust come billowing out of the room.

“After you,” Pam says.

Dex shrugs and then nudges me in front of the camera, indicating that I am to go first. Of course. I always have to be the first to walk into everything when I’m on camera. And sometimes when I’m not on camera. It depends on how sadistic Dex is feeling.

I take in a deep breath and push the door aside. It slowly swings open with a low groan, and I walk blindly into the swirling dark.

“Should I be putting on the night vision?” Dex asks no one in particular. I hear him fiddle with the camera settings but before anything happens, I am blind. Pam has walked in beside me and switched on the lights.

“No sense in scaring ourselves yet,” she chirps, and I can barely make out her round face.

Dex comes in and Pam shuts the door behind him. Once my eyes adjust to the light, I see that we are in a hotel room that probably looks the same as any other hotel room, albeit a large and very pricey one. Aside from a heavy chill that seems to hang in the air, there’s nothing too off-putting about the place. The bed is made, there seems to be a separate room with a living area, divided only by a Japanese-type paper partition, and I can just see a rather opulent looking bathroom jutting out to the right.

“As I said, this is Parker’s room,” she says. “Well, it was his room. I say this because some guests who stay in here say they still see him. But it happens very rarely.”

“And once again,” Dex repeats, sounding bored, “who is Parker?”

Pam walks over to the king-sized bed and sits down on it. It sags a little from her weight; the mattress is not as springy as it was back in the day.

“We have a lot of ghosts in this hotel. Parker isn’t the most well known of them, but he is the most real. Because he was a real person and his story is terribly tragic. Tragic, but all too common.”

I go over to the bed and sit down beside Pam. Suddenly, that slightly see-through partition between the bedroom and the living area is giving me the creeps, like I can sense someone standing behind it.

Dex looks like he picks up on the vibe too. Although he is standing in front of Pam and I, with the camera in our faces, his eyes keep flitting over there and his head is cocked slightly as if he is listening. I stifle the urge to shiver—I don’t want to look like an amateur—and keep my attention on Pam.

“What happened?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light, trying to ignore the goosebumps I can feel rising underneath my jacket.

“Parker, Parker Hayden, was a ship owner in the ‘30s. Back then, Portland was a very different city. The ships were its lively hood. There was a lot of money, a lot of crime, a lot of… well, scandals, I guess. Think Vegas, but on a river. Anyway, Parker was just one of the many wealthy ship owners. He spent half his time here, half somewher
e on the east coast. He rented a
room, this room, spending an obscene amount of money every night. He was a ladies man too, no surprise there! He was also a bit nuts. But because he was rich, you called him eccentric. There were rumors he was having an affair with a maid or two; sometimes he’d be caught stealing tons of toiletries and hording them in his closet. In this day and age we’d call him a weirdo but back then, he was just rich and powerful and you let him do what he wanted.”