by Kent L. Johnson
"It was a dark and stormy night and Killbatter's Cave glowed from up on the hill into the town of Gloust. The sound of membranous wings fluttered in the wind sucking up the silence as bats parried and swooped, looking to bite and feed."
"It was not."
"What wasn't?"
"Sure it was dark, but there were no storms. I was there remember?"
"It's an effin' story for God's sake. We're trying to convince people to come and visit our magical forest and stay at our hotel." David shook his head. "There was never a glow from the cave until we put those remote controlled lights in there."
"There wasn't?"
"No."
"I could have sworn I saw lights." Dawn glanced downward, her eyes closed hard. She looked up. "Are you sure, David?"
"Try to remember, Dawn." He pushed her hair back from the side of her face. "Remember, I free climbed the side of the mountain to the cave. I threw a rope down into the canyon and you tied the batteries to the rope and I pulled them up into the cave, along with the lights."
Dawn blinked and nodded her head.
“Once I got everything up, I helped you up into the cave. We both put the lights in place, connected the wires and the radio control switch. Do you remember?"
"Kind of. Okay, not really." Her voice squeaked then fell off.
"Let's go over this again. You need to get your memory back."
"Okay."
"I left you in the cave while I climbed down the rope and came back here to the hotel. We had the telescope focused on the cave. I sent the radio signal for the remote switch from here to the lights, and the lights turned on...at least momentarily."
Dawn rubbed her hands together and then rubbed the side of her face where her fingers found the tiny scar that indented slightly on her smooth, pale skin.
"Why? I mean, why were you here at the hotel while I was in the cave?"
"I wanted to make sure the lights caused the cave to glow. In other words, I didn't want any bare light bulbs showing. It has to glow to be a believable legend. We had walkie-talkies, remember? I was going to tell you what lights needed to be moved and you were going to do it."
"Yeah."
David touched her on the shoulders. "I didn't know that the wires were frayed and that you would get shocked when I turned on the lights by remote." He pulled her in close to him. "Or that you would fall and hit your head on a rock."
"I kind of remember us talking about this before." Dawn said.
David glanced at their room, The Owners Room, at the Gloust Head Inn. It was small and the carpet worn. Not too much different than the other twenty or so rooms at the Inn, but theirs was a suite. The room had an extra entertainment room with a couch, table, and chairs. If he thought he would be running and living in a hotel just four years ago, he would have checked himself into a clinic. From Wall Street to this. What made me think I could run a hotel?
He remembered when he and Dawn stayed here on vacation. Such a remote spot in a beautiful forest. The hotel owner was a laid back person that enjoyed having a cocktail with his guests before dinner was served.
He was so easy going, no stress, not like on The Street. When he said he wanted to sell it, and the price, just three hundred K. I could imagine sitting back, a glass of white wine discussing the finer points of cinematography in the latest blockbuster with elite people here on vacation. Three hundred K! That's just our primary home, and we could still keep the summer cottage in Cape Hatteras. No more stress. If we rented all twenty rooms out at the going rate that can be three-thousand for one night.
"Remember when we made and offer for this place, Dawn?"
"Kind of."
"We did it. Stepped off the cliff, just like all the motivational speakers said to do. 'You'll never be amount to anything more than a worker bee unless you take a risk. If all you do is fear, then you will just hide in obscurity until life runs you over.' Take a risk: Hell yes, that's what we did."
Dawn stared at the floor.
That works until you figure that the weekend when you stayed and had that wonderful talk with the owner, a special event was going on in town. The hotel filled because there were no other rooms within fifty miles. Most weekends, we're lucky to rent ten rooms. During the week we rent perhaps one or two a night. I'm smart though, I can market. Make up a legend to draw people to the hotel nestled among the thick evergreens.
"Didn't work out like we planned, did it?"
Dawn looked up at me. “Maybe not...I don't know. But I know you can turn it around.”
A little hocus pocus, Billy Barnum type story and we might get some good business. The plot that hatched was the Legend of Killbatter's Cave. Maybe not the most exciting story, but one that we could put real lights and action into, since I had access to the cave on the adjacent hill. The story of Killbatter, a man that rid the caves from rabies carrying bats by whistling a tune and beating on drums. Like the legend of St. Patrick only with bats. He was even nominated to be a Saint by local Monastery before the ancient place of worship burst into flames leaving only the story of Killbatter and the wonder of the Glowing Cave.
“You think this story's going to work? I mean, I don't know how easy it is to figure out if a monastery was here or not. Could blow everything.”
“It's just a story,” Dawn replied.
It was an angel that glowed in the cave after Killbatter prayed and meditated for three days straight. The cave happened to be conveniently within viewing distance of the hotel. He prayed and meditated because bats had infected his brother with rabies. Killbatter was forced to tie him up and watch, while his brother went insane and frothed at the mouth. Then the angel came and his brother was cured and the cave glowed periodically from then on. That's a story that will draw the curious to visit. Maybe.
“Is it a compelling story though?”
“A what story?” Dawn tilted her head to the side as she glanced at me.
Little did I know, that my wife would be left a bit batty. I kick myself for placing the wires onto a wet floor. Now, she can barely remember from day to day what happens. Had to sell the cottage in Hatteras to pay for medical bills. Either this works or...
Take a risk, dump this and go back to Wall Street. There's a festival coming to town. Perhaps, a young, wealthy, urban professional would like to leave the rat race behind. Enjoy the comforts of the magic forest in his own hotel.
"Dawn, would you mind if we sold the hotel?"
"Hotel? But this is your dream."
"Dreams can also be nightmares."
"Huh? I thought you wanted to get away from the stress"
"Baby, you're all the stress I need in my life now."
"I'm stressing you?"
"No, I'm afraid of doing one more stupid thing and maybe hurting you...us more than I already have."
"When did you hurt us?"
"It was a dark and stormy night."
"Was I there?"
