Curiosity can be easily likened unto a magnifying glass. First, you see the tiny ant without it and think of only how small the ant is. How adorable, how tiny, how insignificant to the human mind! Then you view the miniscule creature through the lens of the glass and find its details enlarged.
Suddenly, the creature within your vision is a monster with long, spiky pincers, a gruesomely ugly exoskeleton with eyes so colorless and beady that you feel as though it gazes into all your sins at once. Such a shocking development! Such a transformation; caused by the simple act of looking closer!
So too is the act of learning more about anything in this world. You never know what terrifying details you'll dig up in the act of magnifying your view of something you thought so simple and understandable at first.
"What do you think we'll discover on that second floor?" Adeline pummeled my eardrums all the school day long with her incessant inquiries.
"For the seventh time, my dearly beloved Adeline, I do not know." I expressed to her in the most affectionate way I could muster at that time. "You must understand that my father's ownership over that hotel does not mean I know all of its secrets! I am stuck within the same fog of curiosity as you are!"
"Oh, I know, my sweet Lyra, but I simply cannot withhold my concern! What if it were to be strange man with strange intentions staying within the hotel's walls!?" Her hands flew and stuck onto her face as she expressed her anxieties. Sacré bleu! I was supposed to be the one with clinical anxiety!
"Do not worry about that, Adeline. No one houses themselves illegally in the property of Matis Gibeau without paying the price." I assured her, attempting to refocus my mind on the assignment at hand.
"Jon Adalie is no pushover either." Adeline assured me of her father's competence.
Although the outcome that we would find a homeless drunkard within the walls of the second floor was by far the most likely, I had a feeling that it would not be. Something seemed off, very off.
If it were a man, would I not have seen his feet under the door? Would we not have heard his footsteps creaking on the old, decrepit wood that supported the carpeted floor? Or was the carpet the means of quieting his footsteps?
Whatever the case, I knew something felt wrong about this all. L'Hôtel Hanté was not likely to truly be haunted, was it?
Upon our departure from school, we immediately set our route toward L'Hôtel Hanté. Until my father should have come up with a new name for it, Adeline and I could not think of anything else to call it.
The large, wooden doors creaked a fancy-sounding creak as we pulled them open with what might our tiny feminine bodies possessed. As we did so, I noticed an insect; it was a cockroach of unusual size. To my surprise, she didn't see it at all! I wondered for several seconds as we walked through those doors and pulled them shut if I should tell her, but my anxious over-thinking somehow convinced me otherwise.
"Why are you staring at me, Lyra? Did my braid come undone?" My ignorant friend inquired of me. My heart skipped a beat when I heard those words. What was I supposed to say!?
"Oh! Umm, no, not at all! I just think it was clever of you to braid your hair after it kept falling into your face yesterday." I excused myself from revealing the complete truth. What else was I supposed to do, though!? If I had told her just then, she would have had a "combat de puer" on the spot!
To my horror, it began crawling up her braid like an upward-headed bridge. So, I decided to simply look away. I couldn't take it anymore! The disgusting creature wasn't very inviting to gaze upon anyhow.
"Good afternoon, my fair daughter!" Both of our fathers exclaimed excitedly in a simultaneous and synchronized manner. I wondered what had them in such a good mood.
"Good afternoon, father." Adeline and I both responded in a similar manner, though not quite as well-timed as our fathers were. "What is the cause of your synchronized smiles?" I asked them.
"Gaze upon our work and marvel at our progress!" My father theatrically exclaimed, gesturing dramatically toward the completely refinished walls all around. The walls were indeed quite impressive, but I had a hard time believing that the two of them could finish so much in so little time.
"How did you do so much in just the time we were at school, father?" Adeline asked Mr. Jon. That was the question to be asked, and to be honest, I was almost nervous to hear the answer. What if they had taken a shortcut that would cause structural instability? Were they secretly working overnight? They must have been exhausted!
More thoughts kept flooding my mind, and I could feel my heart begin to race. As the panic began to set in, my brain began generating all sorts of unusual thoughts. Was all of this an illusion of some sort? Was I dreaming? Was there some dark secret my father was hiding from me?
My father must have noticed my face turning pale, seeing that he swooped me up in his arms like a small child and kissed my face. "Don't you worry, my little girl. The news is great and there's no reason to fret about us. We have indeed been working all day, but not only us two." He assured me in his calming voice that he always used so well to soothe my troubled mind.
"That's right! He had the help of us two as well!" Shouted an unfamiliar man from the other side of the lobby. The voice came from one of two nearly identical men, both covered from head to toe in paint, splinters, and dust. "Your father has a good eye for workers. He hired us at a very fine price." Said the other.
My fears faded and the "combat de puer" that was beginning to take hold faded off into obscurity. "Who are these two?" I asked my father as he set me back down on my feet.
"We're the Ducasse brothers!" The first man answered, wrapping his arm around his brother. "I'm Rupert, and this is Lucien. We're carpenters and home decorators; in other words, exactly what your father here needs." The other added.
"The Ducasse brothers are indeed a dream come true for this project of mine." My father agreed. "Matis and I have the structure and heavy work in our grasps, but neither of us is necessarily a professional when it comes to interior design. The Ducasse brothers have more experience than the both of us combined in both the heavy work and interior design!" Jon praised the two men who had already returned to the work they were previously engaged in.
"As for the second floor…" My father gestured toward the staircase, which was now cleared out and completely accessible, though still dirty and creaky looking. "Don't worry. We didn't explore the second floor yet, we only opened the door and walked around the halls to make sure no one was hanging around there." He assured me.
"Did you find out where the lights were coming from?" I asked nervously, Adeline clearly sharing my anticipation.
"No, sadly. The gas-powered lamps were all so ancient and rusty that there was no way they could have been lit. This place also doesn't have any of those new 'light bulb' objects that have been all the fuss lately." Jon answered.
"The Eiffel tower was quite the sight to behold when they lit it up with those bulbs during the universal exhibition. Maybe we should consider installing some at a later point in time." My father commented.
"Oh, that would be beautiful! But let's go explore the second floor and see if we can find what the cause of the light was first. This way our minds can be at rest concerning the matter." I interjected, shoving away thoughts of what else might have been causing the peculiar light to show underneath the door.
"Right, that has truthfully been on my mind as well. I thought I heard some footsteps coming from there earlier. Adeline, Jon, why don't you two stay down here and help the Ducasse brothers while Lyra and I go and investigate." My father suggested.
"Sounds like a good plan to me. Just yell my name if you need help. We'll keep our ears open, Matis." Jon assured us. I was relieved that Mr. Jon was so helpful in so many more ways than just refurbishing the hotel. He was kind and seemed to have already become good friends with my father. Then again, my father had a way of winning people over quickly anyways, even if he wasn't trying to sell them something.
I had been anticipating this moment for one night too long now, and nothing was going to stop me from finding out what I saw. Despite my anxiety, my curiosity seemed to overrule any fear that I had. It was scary, but it was engaging! The thrill of finding the answer to a mystery in a spooky old hotel was too much for me to resist!
I dashed ahead of my father up the stairs, his protective presence staying comfortingly behind me. There was no way I could have gone up those stairs without him there, and I knew there was no way he could have explored that second floor without me there.
Although my father was more experienced with the "combats de puer" and could fight them off quickly, he still had his own anxiety and would find comfort in holding my hand. We both knew how to soothe the other.
"Here we are. Are you ready, Lyra?" My father asked, inserting his key into the lock.
"Of course! Do not hesitate, dear father. Just don't leave my side, okay?" I responded with shaky confidence.
My father smiled warmly at me, took my hand, and opened the door slowly. He peeked in to check around the area before leading me into the halls. They seemed to carry the same kind of design and fashion as the first floor, save that the doors were made of cheaper wood than the massive, expensive doors that lead to the lobby.
The sun outside was beginning to set, so light from the windows would have been minimal. Therefore, my father opted to bring in a candle for the sake of illuminating the way.
My heart increased its pace as he opened one of the doors, first shining the light of the candle into the room. I was prepared to shriek at the top of my lungs if a stranger were to have been there, but to my own relief and to my father's, the light of the candle revealed nothing of the sort. Just an empty room with a neatly made bed and a small dresser, appearing to be made from finely sourced chestnut wood.
We continued to check each room for any signs of life. Fortunately, the only living things we found were the usual insects and mice scurrying about the floors and walls. That is, for the first few doors, anyways.
"You're making a mistake…" I heard a quiet but shrill voice from somewhere behind me. I shrieked and lunged into my father's side, unable to verbalize the fear I was feeling nor anything else for that matter.
"What's the matter, Lyra?" He inquired of me, sounding confused with a hint of panic hidden in his tone. I pointed toward the direction the sound came from.
"Someone whispered something! She told me I was making a mistake! Father, let's get out of here!" I wailed, panic overtaking my mind. Fortunately, as I mentioned earlier, Matis Gibeau was my father and knew just how to settle my fears.
"I will be quite honest with you, Lyra: I did not hear it." He responded, wrapping one arm around me and shining the candle in the direction I pointed. "I believe you, nonetheless. If it is too much for you, then let's descend back to the first floor. I will explore later with Jon." His voice was soft and caring, but underlying it was the slightest hint of something I couldn't resist: a challenge!
There was no way I was letting that happen! I was far too set on exploring this hotel with my father for something I thought was a voice to send me crying back to the first floor! I forced myself to take deep breaths and I looked my father straight in his shining green eyes. "You know very well that I would never be satisfied with that." I prudently scoffed at him.
"That's my girl!" He laughed loudly, echoing through the halls of the dimly lit second floor.
I knew he was scared too. My scream most definitely startled him, and I could see in his face that he too was fearful until I calmed down. It seemed to me that my emotions affected his own, and I was okay with that. It's what made me feel understood by him.
"Let's take a look in that one." Father proclaimed as he opened the door in the direction that I heard the voice from. Nothing was there.
"Thank goodness." I muttered.
"See? Nothing to fear. Let's try the next one!"
He opened yet another. Nothing again.
"Ah, Lyra, we were nervous over nothing. There's no one else in this hotel." He sighed. "If there were, though, you'd get to see your papa wipe the floor with him!" He boasted jokingly, lifting his clenched fist into the air.
I couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Perhaps he was right!
I took the lead this time and opened up another door; in fact, I swung that door right open! Imagine our faces of surprise when a glass teacup fell from one of the dressers and shattered! The force from my opening the door was obviously the cause, but we both jumped nonetheless!
Looking back at each other, we just laughed it off. There wasn't anything haunted about this hotel! "The people of this town are just scared of the dark!" Father exclaimed as he pushed open another door, revealing more mice and roaches. "I bet what you heard was one of these mice making squeaky noises." He pointed out.
I wasn't too sure about that, but for the sake of my sanity I had to believe him! After all, it was starting to seem very real that nothing could go wrong here.
As I opened the next door, I found that this one was squealing and creaking much more than the others. The cobwebs in this room were thicker and greater in number as well. The bed was wrecked, and the room looked as though a fight had gone down inside of it.
"Well, look at this. An old journal." My father said as he searched under the torn blankets. I could feel his desire to open that book and read it emanating from his being, so I hesitated to tell him that it was rude to read people's journals.
"It's in Dutch, too! Fortunately, your trilingual papa can read and write French, Dutch, and English! This must have been a fine gentleman staying in this room." He commented. Sure, maybe a gentleman with a temper. I guessed this gentleman must have had such a bad experience here that he stormed out without making the bed or remembering to grab his journal.
My father cleared his throat in preparation to read it aloud. "What a splendid place!" He began reading. "Port-Louis was settled by my ancestors; it fills me with excitement to be here in the Harbour of Tortoises! I simply cannot wait to tour its rich history."
I rolled my eyes. Father was reading in such an overtly expressive tone of voice that the only word that could possibly describe my reaction was the English word "cringe".
Father began skimming through some of the pages until he stopped at something he apparently found interesting enough to read. This time, however, there were no antics; nor was there any playfulness in his voice.
"The voices… they won't stop. I'm so tired of hearing these troubled maidens muttering." Father read aloud, sounding very concerned. "They criticize one another ruthlessly, telling each other what mistakes they've been making."
My heart felt as though it had been replaced with an iron cube, heavy with several edges poking into my chest. "You're making a mistake…" I repeated.
"Is that what the voice you heard said?" My father asked quietly, connecting the dots.
"Indeed, it was…" I muttered through my shaking and trembling.
"HAVE YOU NO BRAIN!?" The shrill voice was now loud and earsplitting enough for both of us to hear, its quiet aftershock of an echo fading into the depths of the room. Hearing it felt like a fiery stick being shoved into our ears!
"Nope." My father stated, lifting my frozen self into his arms and dashing through the halls. "La vache!" He breathlessly exclaimed, frantically flying past the open doors we had explored.
Following his footsteps, we heard screams. Not just any screams, but awful, metallic, echoing, earsplitting screeches. I could not fight off my fear any longer; my hands started to feel tingly and numb; I was losing my fight with fear.
My father bashed the door to the stairs open, surprisingly staying on his feet as he dashed down them, back to the well-lit first floor. The other four were so busy working across the spacious lobby that they didn't even notice us flop down on the floor in front of the stairs.
"It's okay, we're safe now." Father stated repeatedly to both me and himself, clearly having his own "combat de puer". It took a few minutes, but I eventually calmed down enough to start moving again.
"Papa!" I exclaimed. I only ever called him "papa" instead of "father" when I was losing a "combat de puer". "This place, it's…"
My father placed his finger over my lips. Obviously, he did not want the others to know what had happened. If they found out, we would have no help to restore this hotel. Besides that, they would think we were crazier than the whole town already proclaimed us to be. Matis Gibeau could not afford any more reputational damage.
"It's true, Lyra. This place…" He trailed off for a moment, staring back up the stairs.
"It's truly L'Hôtel Hanté."
To be continued