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| The Hotel California Pt. 1 (An epic tale) | Started by: FrankCastiglia on Feb 06, '25 20:43 |
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A phone call came in to the headquarters of New York City Don SantoRubio at 10:45 p.m. EST. “Yeh? Heh. What’d ya want?” The sound of a familiar voice came back across the line. “It’s me Santo. I’ve got the goats. We need to talk. Meet me at the seaside terrace, Santa Monica California. You’ve got 24 hours.” Santo’s already pasty skin quickly became a sickly hue of transparent white as he trembled then spoke. “Frank, you mean… the Hotel California?” Even Santo’s voice came out as a tremble now. “You know BB. Where we last saw Bob. I’ll see you soon.” Frank hung the pay phone up quickly before Santo could respond and exited the phone booth. A barrage of “mahhhh, mahhhhhh” from the goats greets him with a wave of annoyance as he approaches the livestock truck carrying the goats. “I swear to God if this doesn’t work I’m shooting each of you.” The goats stopped and stared at Frank as if they understood what he was saying. “Yeah, fuck you Leonard.” Frank made a motion as if he was going to punch one of the goats before smiling and walking to the cab of the truck and climbing in. The road to California was an odd one. As Frank drove he began to ponder the landscape and road ahead. There was a dark desert highway, the cool breeze flowed through his hair. The warm smell of goat feces was rising up through the air. As Frank drove through the night, up ahead in the distance, he saw a shimmering light. His head was heavy and his sight grew dim, he had to get away from the damn goats for the night. Or at least long enough to shower. Like a ghost from his past, he saw Bob’s image in the doorway. And for some strange reason there was the sound of a mission bell. At this point Frank was thinking to himself this could be an illusion or this could be hell. Then like a beacon, the image of Bob lit up a candle as if to show him the way. As if angels were singing he heard voices down the highway corridor but then saw the sign lit up and knew he had arrived at the Hotel California. The hotel was such a lovely place and the night clerk woman at the desk in front had such a lovely face. Frank inquired about the space available for he and 125 goats and was informed there was plenty of room at the Hotel California. The bell hop who had crept behind Frank during his discussion with the night clerk chimed in that “Any time of year, you can find that here!”. Frank jumped slightly from being startled by the short and oddly shaped bell boy. “Don’t even bother with her.” The bell boy whispered to Frank. “Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she drives a Mercedes Benz. Oh, and she’s got a lot of pretty boys, that she calls friends.” The bellboy smiled a misshapen smile as Frank rolled his eyes at the man. “Listen pal, I wasn’t interested and if I were, I’m told I’m quite the dapper gentleman!” Frank stood tall and adjusted his suit as if to show off. “But that’s not what I’m here for! You want to earn some money fella?” Frank said as the bell boy eagerly nodded his head and leaned in. “I have a truck of one hundred and twenty five, smelly, shit crusted goats out in my truck. I need them unloaded, bathed and lodged in room… room….” Frank turned back to the night clerk in need of a reminder. “What was the room number again?” Frank winked at her as he spoke. “275, doll.” She spoke flirtatiously. Frank, gleaming with pride, turned back to the bell boy. “Room 275. You get this done in the next… ohhhh… hour or so and I’ll double your yearly salary. Capische?” Frank winked at the bell boy and patted his head as he headed towards the stairs. “Me, I’m going to go shower this damn goat stank off before my friend arrives. I need myself and these goats presentable for when my friend gets here!” Franks voice trailed off as he climbed the stairs to the second floor where his room was held. Upon entering the room Frank was flooded with the ghosts of his, BBB and Bob’s past. The room recalled to memories of a past that seemed so far away. “How happy we were. The three best of friends.” He thought to himself as he looked around the room. There were mirrors on the ceiling, for some reason they kept pink champagne on ice. He knew if he still had a drinking problem that he could see him being a prisoner here. Of his own device. Frank sighed. Life was so empty without BBB and Bob. “If this doesn’t bring back the friend I knew, if this doesn’t speak to the part of him I know still exists deep down…. I don’t know what will….” Frank trailed off as he checked his pocket watch. “Only a few hours to go.” He said as he placed the pocket watch back in its place and then loosened his neck tie as he headed to the bathroom to shower. Frank emerged from the shower after what seemed like hours, most likely as if to further a story along. “What the hell are you doing?!” Frank shouted as he exited the shower to find the bell boy standing in the bathroom smiling. “The goats sir, they’ve been washed, brushed and delivered.” The bell boy grinned through his weirdly rounded face as he held out his hand. “Look fella. I don’t know if this is the right time to be standing here with your damn hand out to me and eyes closed.” Frank grabbed a towel from nearby and began drying off as the bell boy turned the brightest hue. “I’m sorry sir, so, so sorry sir!” The bell boy spoke hurriedly and then turned and smacked into the bathroom door, sliding down it onto the floor. “For fucks sake!” Frank exclaimed as he wrapped the towel around his still damp waist and went over to pick the bell boy up. “You ok kid?” Frank said as he lifted the bell boy to his feet and held him up as he stabilized himself. “Yes, yes sir. I, just, I just.” Before he could finish Frank interrupted. “Just please, get the fuck out of the bathroom will ya? Let me get dressed. Go sit down on the bed, talk to the goats, hell ride a few around the room for all I care! Just give me some damn space to get dressed. This is a big thing for me…” Franks thoughts trailed off as he pushed the bell boy out of the room with one hand and shut the door with the other. “Once Santo arrives, I get my best friend back!” Frank remarked with a quiet yet excited tone. Santo had hopped the first flight out of New York City. His adrenaline and his anxiety raced during the plane ride to California. He knew Frank was a bit of an enigma. A little unhinged, possibly teetering on the lines between sanity and insanity. But it wasn’t the fear of why in the hell he would load up 125 goats and drive across country that circled in his mind. It was what it meant to him to have gone there. The place they last spent time with Bob before he disappeared from their lives forever. “Has it been that long?” Santo questioned himself as he recanted the last time the three were together at the Hotel California. It still seemed hazy at best, those last moments together. Santo, still going by his childhood nickname BBB from the terrible stutter he had as a child recalled how happy the trio were. They had just arrived back to the hotel from looking at properties they were deciding on for building their picture studio out in L.A. In classic fashion the trio had already broke open a bottle on the car ride back and had stopped to pick up a few girls of the night on their way. That’s where everything starts to get fuzzy in Santo’s memory. The last thing he remembered, he was running for the door. He was trying to find a way back to the place he was before. So, New York. He doesn’t remember why he felt the need to get away so bad or what drove him there. All he could recall is that he remembers hearing “relax” as if a man spoke to him in the night. And when he woke up in that convertible, in the Mexican desert, he couldn’t recall anything else. Frank was there, passed out in the back seat. Santo couldn’t fathom how he could have driven that car into Mexico or how he could have even managed to drive a car a block from what he remembered transpiring before everything got fuzzy. Nevertheless, the two had went back to the Hotel California in search of the friend who hadn’t been found inside the convertible rental they had woken up in.!But there were no sign of Bob, their belongings or any clues to the night before. The room was as spotless as when they had arrived days earlier and no one from the hotel seemed to recall a third man being with the two confused fellows. Santo shook his head to snap out of the barrage of memories as the car he had hired to bring him from the airport came to a standstill outside the doors of the Hotel California. “Have I been lost in thought this whole trip?”He queried in his head. Santo shook off the cold chills which reverberated down his body as he removed cash from his wallet and tossed it to the driver. “Keep the change yeh.” Santo spoke as he climbed from the back of the sedan. “Sir, you want me to wait around for you or you planning on staying? Cause I hear this hotels the type that you can check out anytime you’d like, but you can never leave! It’s that relaxing and beautiful! It literally never leaves your mind!” The driver spoke as if he were a walking billboard for this physical representation of every question Santo has carried with him since he was last here. “Nah. Not sure what I’m even walking into here. Guess you better go then, yeh?” Santo spoke as he patted the top of the car signifying the driver should take off. “Why the hell did you bring me back here Frank? Why here?” Santo spoke out loud partly from fear and the other part frustration. He had so many questions as it related to the purpose of luring him out here. This very location haunted his dreams even into today. Why here? Why his goats? Why was he standing outside in the California heat staring angrily at a sign? Santo had far more questions than answers. It was time to get to the bottom of things and get his goats back! Just as Santo took a step toward the revolving door, the oddly shaped bell boy came pouring through it. “You must be Mr. Franks guest. He’s been expecting you.” He said with an odd smile and menacing demeanor. “Yeh. Get on with it then.” Santo said as he closed his eyes expecting this was it. This was the moment his body went to swim with the fishes. It was all done and dusted. Frank had brought him here to not only be forced to recall the past trauma of losing Bob but to also end his life. “Sir…. Sir…” The bell boy spoke as he tugged at Santo’s shirt. Santo peeled his eyes open slowly as he looked down at the disproportionate, impish man. “Sir, Mr. Frank told me to watch for you and to bring you to his room on your arrival.” The bell boys voice came across both concerned and a little confused. “If you’ll follow me sir, I’ll take you to him.” The bell boy motioned toward the door and then turned to lead the way. “Say, bell boy. Did Frank happen to come alone?” Santo inquired as he followed the bell boy inside to the lobby. “Mr. Frank?” The bell boy responded almost as if he was laughing at the question. “Mr. Frank definitely didn’t come alone.” He chuckled as he continued to lead the way up the staircase and to the second floor. Santo had beads of sweat from the mess that was his hair on top of his head, running down his forehead. The mixture of nerves and emotions were creating a pit in his stomach. Had Frank lured him here to be ambushed? Did he even have the goats? If he didn’t were they already dead? Why does this little bell boy look so damn weird?! His mind was a whirl. “Here you are Mr. Franks friend.” The bell boy said as he stopped their journey just outside room 275. “Go on in, they’re expecting you.” The weird shaped, odd and slightly smelly bell boy said and then motioned toward the door. “They?” Santo contemplated in his head. “Did… did Frank find Bob? Is this what this is about? Were we so distracted and inebriated that night that somehow we locked Bob out on the roof of this hotel and thought we had lost him? Nahhh, that sounds too much like a Hollywood picture than something that could have happened to us in real life.” Santo swallowed in his throat as his thoughts shifted to the more grim. “But knowing Frank and how unhinged he is, this could be a set up. I’m going to die in the same hotel where we lost Bob! Without my goats! And in California of all places. Yuck!” Santo made a sour face as the troll of a bell boy stared at him blankly. “Sir, do I need to turn the knob for you?” The bell boy asked sheepishly. “Yeh, NO! I DON’T NEED YOU TO TURN THE FUCKING KNOB FOR ME! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE ALREADY, YOU’RE CREEPING ME OUT!” Santo exclaimed as his patience for the freak show bell boy had worn thin. Santo turned to the door, closed his eyes and with a deep breath, collected himself. “You’re not little BBB anymore! You’re Santo Fucking Rubio, protector of goats, first of his name and! What the hell am I doing?” Santo shrugs off his momentary lapse of sanity before reaching out to turn the knob and push the door open. “Ffff..Frank” He said almost in a scared whimper as he entered the dark room. Just then a light flicked on revealing the shadow-laden familiar face of FrankCastiglia. |
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FrankCastiglia - could you tell everyone why your dad's city was levelled? |
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