STF

Do Drop Inn

Posted June 27, 2022, 5 p.m. by Civilian Orlando Richards (Teacher) (Ty Napier)

Well, Karina Enger had not been wrong when saying OED was not a hotspot tourist attraction. Orlando stood at the bottom of some half rotten wooden slabs laid haphazardly across cinder blocks that somehow served as steps to the entrance of a building with the words Do Dr(faded and unreadable)P NN that appeared to have been one time painted by hand in black letters. Whoever had painted had done so without care as the letters were uneven and left dripped and long dried lines. The hotel bragged about being OED V’s oldest and longest running establishment. Breathing in and out through his nose a few times, mostly for fear of what odour might be lingering he continued to stand and stare taking in the view of the dilapidated two story wooden building. One the second floor, three windows covered in grime faced out towards the street, the interior hidden behind white heavy curtains. Underneath the windows a porch covering for the bottom floor was supported by three braces attached to the wall with two windows and an entrance door in between. Both windows were covered with the same white curtains preventing Orlando from having a look to see what doom awaited for him inside. Wooden slates standing horizontally with red paint peeling off made up the walls of the building giving it a weathered barn look. To the far right side a swing had been attached to the two pillars holding up the roof of the porch that looked like it might hold the weight of two people. That was if one could manage to reach the swing without tripping over all the crates, boxes and buckets to get to the other side. Just to the left of the main entrance stood a bear a half a head taller than Orlando carved from wood wearing a faded pink apron with white lace and a honey dipper in one hand with a pot tuckered under its arm. Just to complete the bear’s outfit a straw wide brimmed hat and been tied on under its chin.

“What holly hell have I gotten myself into?” Orlando said a little louder than he had intended. Puffing air into his cheeks, he let out a slow and long exhale. Maybe it was some tourist thing after all and inside was nicer than the out. Hoping it was a gimmick, the ex Starfleet officer mounted the steps, bag slung over his shoulder swaying side to side with the uneven steps until he found firm footing on the floorboards of the porch. As he pushed the door open (why did it not just open), he was meet with a loud creaking of protest, but it did open with a measure of insistence.

Light flooded into the entry way exposing dancing dust particles in the suns rays. Orlando shielded his eyes with his forearm, squinting, until his sight adjusted. Inside the lobby, the theme of the hotel continued and matched the exterior, though pleasantly clean. Sweet cinnamon and apple spiced waft through the room with just a hint of vanilla. Apple pie and fresh ice cream. Orlando would know that smell anywhere since it was his favourite, even above grilled cheese and fresh roasted tomato soup. Taking a long look around the room, he took in the features and observed the lobby also served as a bar and restaurant. Towards the back, a half dozen tables and a couple of booths sat waiting empty for customers. Just to the left stood a small makeshift bar propped up on crates with a board on top and two bar stools that looked like they would collapse with much weight. Bottles of alcohol and glasses sat in front of a mirror behind the bar. Between Orlando and the tables was a lone pool table with a green covering that a had a few holes and had seen better days. Behind him was a dart board and the only thing that looked like it had been brought into the place in the last decade. Every inch of the walls were scratched with writings and names. Darted in-between names etched deeply into the wood panels were varies forms of “artwork” that looked like children had drawn. But, it was clean. Orlando only hoped the rooms were as clean.

“Hello, Mr. Richards? We have been expecting you,” a voice called out of nowhere. Literally nowhere. Orlando turned around in circles looking for whoever the voice belonged to and found no one. “Oh sorry. I thought you might have read the instructions we sent you. Didn’t mean to frighten you. Look to your left and up. Smile you are on camera. I am in the kitchen making apple pie. Your profile said it was your favourite. Your room is upstairs, to the left and all the way at the end. I will bring you some pie and ice cream later. If you need anything, just give me a holler. My name is Eryk. Literally, just holler. The walls are thin as pancakes.”

“Right. Thanks Eryk. Will do and thanks for the pie. That is very kind of you. See you in a bit then,” Orlando answered a bit unnerved. Moving his eyes back and forth, he finally found the exit to the room next to the bar and moved towards the archway. Lights flickered to life revealing a staircase with one flight of stairs.

The door to the room opened automatically as Orlando stepped in front. He shook his head and stepped in to the small but still clean and sparse room. Unlike the rest of the building he had seen so far, this space was free of clutter and very minimalistic. One large bed with a plain blue bedspread sat against the wall to the left of the door. Small tables just big enough for a cup of tea sat on either side of the bed. Walls were undecorated and an off-white colour that appeared to have been recently and carefully painted. Clean grey carpet covered the floor, stopping at another closed door. Placing his bag on the bed, Orlando stepped the short space to the inner door and pushed it opened. Inside was a perfectly fine bathroom with a walk in multiple head shower with a bench. Was that an actual water shower he mused before returning to sit on the bed. Kicking off his boots, he pulled out a PaDD and laid back against pillows and mattress that felt as though they were made from clouds and got comfortable. It had been a long day that so far had been very fruitless in finding his nephew Phoenix of whatever the boy was calling himself now.

Checking the chronometer first, Orlando surmised that Daria would be at work and Logan at his grandparents house. He had promised he would video call his son everyday until he got back to San Francisco. Too many years the boy had gone without his father, thinking he was dead. It was remarkable how the boy had adjusted. That was all down to his mother though. She was the most amazing parent any kid could ever wish for, kind, patient, loving and always understanding. As far as Logan and Orlando were concerned, she was super mom.

“Hey buddy!” Orlando smiled widely as Logan’s face framed in blond locks came into view.

.................................................................................

The chat with Logan had been brief. It would seem his son inherited at least partially his impulsiveness and had disappeared as soon as Grandad Greg had entered the room. Orlando didn’t blame him as he missed spending time with his dad too. Blond curls were quickly replaced with greying ones as Sarah Richards image came into view. Straight to the subject and blunt as always, his mother asked. “have you found Phoenix yet?”

“No mom. I just got here. But the police should have all the information. I will start tomorrow. Meeting with an old Academy buddy who is running a youth program. Hopefully he can give me an idea of where to start looking,” Orlando answered yawning slightly. It had been a long day between arriving, processing through landing and meeting with the director. “Before I say goodnight, do not let Logan have that pet rabbit. Daria and I need to discuss that first. This is what you always do and it causes so many problems. You can’t just go around making decisions about Logan without including her. She is his mother. I think you forget that sometimes. I mean it, mom, no pet rabbits, no puppies, kittens, turtles or goats. Nothing.”

Sarah Richards frowned and closed the channel. Orlando tossed the PaDD on the bed next to him. “Goodnight. Love you too mom.”

Orlando Richards (Visiting Teacher)


Posts on Oed V

In topic

Posted since


© 1991-2024 STF. Terms of Service

Version 1.15.11