Gateway Hotel

It had been a glorious hotel when it was built in 1850 during Queen Victoria’s reign, even though it resided in the United States. The Civil War took its toll on the structure as it was converted to a hospital for the Yankees in Columbus, Ohio. The ballroom was filled to capacity with wounded, hotel rooms were converted to different wards for surgery, quarantining, officers, and enemy. When the war was finished, the damage to the hotel physically and mentally was astounding. It changed owners so many times, that repairs were neglected and wildlife found sanctuary in the guest rooms instead of humans.

On the day Emil Journey was told he had cancer with a slim chance of surviving it, he wandered the streets of Columbus contemplating his next steps. When he made it to Franklin Park, he found the old hotel that had been forgotten and saw the sign of notice hanging in front of it. He glanced at the words demolition and a cord struck in his soul. He climbed the chain fence with no care of being caught. The song of his mortality played a tune of invincibility as he approached the grand structure that dimmed in the presence of its sign of mortality. With no tools to pull down the plywood on the front door, Emil walked around the side to find another way in. Spotting the broken window on the second floor of the rounded tower, he inhaled deeply and began his climb.

He used his elbow to finish off the broken window and climb inside. He had stumbled onto the round bed that was large enough to fill the tower area and pushed back the gag reflex from years of usage and abandonment as his face planted into the fabric from his fall. He tried to reflect on what he had seen the place had been over the years and remembered the last thing the structure had been labeled as was a house for some eccentric billionaire who had a passion for the seventies despite being born in the nineties. He had won a lottery and blew it all on the building. Eventually the taxes claimed the property, but nothing had been done with it for over a decade.

Stepping into the large room that was attached to the tower, Emil saw a creature scurry across the shag carpeting faster than he could make out the species. With the knowledge of wildlife in his mind, the smell seemed to finally hit him at the combination of age and squatters (both animal and human). He looked at the door that was only a frame remaining to the room, he stepped through the door and gasped at the four-story opening from the main floor all the way up to the glass dome at top.

Most of the dome was intact, but it was apparent that some of the stained glass pieces were hit by some elements of nature. The opening was large enough to encompass a staircase that swirled upward while hugging the floors. It left the center open to look up from the main floor to see the dome. Unlike the typical sealed up wooden structures that stairs are envisioned in the era the hotel was built, the steps were a metal lattice that allowed one to see through them and not hinder the display that each floor gave. The stairs alternated which side opened to each floor and made its way around the circle to the opposite side of the second floor. Each floor once had six feet wide landings that encircled each floor, but time had eaten away at the wood and some locations shortened down to two feet or less. Most of the metal railing that was erected to keep guests from falling over was missing along with the sections of the floor that had crashed to the main floor. With a careful glance over the edge and not wanting to lean too much on the railing, Emil looked at the mess below and decided to start at the top and work his way down, but a sound from below caught his attention.

Unable to allow the warnings that flashed across his mind to stop him, Emil made his descent to figure out the origin of the noise. Despite the few spots of rust on the steps that accumulated from leakage of the dome, Emil was thankful for the solid metal instead of the wood that had been eaten away by time and critters. Pushing the section of floor and railing that had fallen from the second floor off of the bottom steps, Emil heard the sound again. His mind tried to recognize it, but the closest it could come to was a bird imitating a sharp baby wail. Emil looked at the front of the building from the inside and marveled at the architecture. The first two floors were opened to the lobby. The reason for the entrance being covered in plywood was the several sections of windows that climbed up the two floors and would allow the sun to illuminate the lobby and first two flight of stairs when it rose in the morning. However, with the sun almost on the other side of the building, the only light that filtered in was what filled the dome. He pulled out his cell phone and turned on the light to examine the path he needed to take to determine the origin of the sound. As the light struck a door, insects scurried from the beam.

Emil pushed on a swinging door, but it gave only an inch. He looked around and spotted a piece of metal that a rat scurried across. He scooped it up and shoved it between the cracks. He levered the door to open towards him then slid his fingers through the gap to pull it open. A beam from the floor above had fallen across the doorway and Emil looked up to see that the ceiling for the first floor was gone, but the floor for the second floor was still there. As he swung his light down to continue on his journey, he froze at the sight of two eyeballs peeking through the space between ceiling and floor. As he blinked at the thought they were human, the eyes disappeared without a sound of retreat.

With a shake of his head to convince himself that it was another critter or only his imagination, Emil climbed over the beam and heard the sound again. The narrow hallway showed no signs of decadence or crafting and assumed it was the staff area of the hotel. The hallway ended on a door to his left and a narrow set of circular steps. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he heard the sound come from down the stairs, but this time it held the noise a few seconds longer. Shining his light down the solid metal steps, Emil made another descent, but this time his pulse was running a little faster.

When he reached the bottom of the steps, his light shone on a large open area. He swung the light around only to find no end to the room. He stood at the bottom of the steps and just listened and scanned with his light, but no sound was heard. Emil wasn’t even able to hear the sound of animals scurrying. The silence was so prominent that Emil heard the blood rushing throughout his body as his heart rate gained even more speed. When his light circled behind him, something flashed instantaneously and so overwhelming that Emil flinched. In that millisecond of his eyes closed, Emil felt a peace brush over him and a desire to own the building.

He checked the signal on his phone and when he found none, he rushed up the narrow, circular steps in search of one.

On the roof of the hotel, accessed by a panel Emil fell through in search of a signal, he started calling everybody he knew who would help him buy the hotel. He wasn’t an eccentric billionaire, but he had been setting money aside for years planning his retirement. With the notion that he wasn’t going to be alive for retirement, Emil quit his job for the public utilities department and bought the Victoria Hotel.

Iris often felt like she was just floating through life. Doing her job, paying her bills, and being an unenthusiastic participant in life. Her mind always contemplated that there had to be something better for her in life, but the thought of rocking the boat and leaving behind a good paying job and a stable roof over her head was not a risk she was ready to take. It was a trait she had learned from her father. Unfortunately, it seemed her father was content with that existence, but Iris would flutter along the line in hopes of finding something that would be worth taking the leap, but nothing ever did. She had a two-year degree, but found a job that paid well in the city to not see a need to go any further in education. When she saw a job posting she held interest in, she quickly realized her qualifications were lacking. By the time it would take to increase those qualifications, she was well aware that the job posting would be gone. It was a rut that she saw no way of escaping and the thought of doing so caused an anxiety she didn’t like. It was the day a certain job posting crossed her desk for another city union job that finally forced her to create a new path against her choosing.

With her limited qualifications, the farthest she could climb in the city employment opportunities was assistant to the City Clerk. The City Clerk had slid the little sticky note across her desk with a simple request, “print job description: Plant Maintenance Supervisor.”

By the time realization set in the City Clerk had escaped back into her office and denied Iris the chance to question the obvious mistake. She reached for the phone just as the City Clerk switched her phone to not available. Iris grabbed the phone and punched in her Dad’s cell number. It immediately went to voicemail. She pulled her cell phone from her desk drawer and sent out a text, “What is going on?”

Several hours later, her father finally responded, “I’ll tell you at supper tonight.”

With two sentences from her father, Iris’s mind reeled at what emotion she was supposed to feel. She saw an excitement in her father’s face that was incomprehensible when his first sentence was that he had cancer and was given a year to live. His excitement was so baffling that Iris almost missed his next breath of words, “I bought the Victoria Hotel.”

“Say that again.”

Her father took a bit of his steak, “Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Well, I figured that since I won’t be sticking around until retirement, why not use that money to get the Victoria Hotel. I still have plenty left to restore it.”

“You already paid for it?”

“The city had no plan for the lot once they demolished it…”

“It is up for demolition?”

“It was, but since I bought it, I am going to restore it.”

“Restore?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why not? It has too much history for it to be destroyed and this way I can give you something before I die.”

“Give me?”

“Yeah, I am going to restore it and then you can run it after I die. I have a year. That should be plenty of time to restore it and get the business started.”

“Why would I want to run a hotel?”

“You think I don’t listen when you ramble about wanting something more in your life.”

“Kind of.”

“I may not listen to all of it, but I know you are unhappy. Ever since your mother died, there was only one time that I truly saw you happy.”

“When?

“When we had company over, you would take charge of making sure everything was ready before, during and after.”

“What? You mean taking care of all those demanding relatives who had to have things just the right way and figuring out where they were all going to sleep and what we were going to feed them and…”

“And I know you enjoyed every minute of it.”

Iris shut her mouth tight and started to think about his words and reminisce on those times in their lives when family and friends would visit.

As her mind wondered, it finally comprehended her dad's first sentence, "Where's the cancer?"

"Does it matter?"

"I would prefer the focus on…"

"Pancreas."

"Have you gotten a second opinion or seen a specialist?"

"The second opinion was a specialist. "

"And he gave no…"

"She and no she didn't give options that would present a better outcome."

Emil threw himself into the task of restoring the hotel. Iris took a week of work to help empty the hotel. They took advantage of the already broken windows and tossed items out them into the dumpster below. As word spread of the determination of Emil and his diagnosis, family and friends quickly showed up to help. Some stayed past the emptying of the hotel and helped to begin restoring the bones of the structure.

Iris returned to work, but used any free moment she had to dig up details about the hotel's past with a specific need for images. Her dad was determined to restore it to the glory it elicited when it was first built. Other city employees became captivated by the treasure hunt and provided their spare time to the cause. The entire living room of Emil's home was covered in blueprints, images, and newspaper articles. Spilling into the dining area were fabric swatches, wallpaper samples, furniture images, and numerous other items that would be needed to complete a hotel in appearance. Stacked on the kitchen island were the applications for those wanting to work at the hotel.

Emil's best friend slid into the only empty chair in the dining room, "What is the plan, Em?"

Poking his head out from in the fridge, Emil's eyes widened, "You can't sit on that."

Steve jumped to his feet, "Why not?"

"It is a sample chair."

Steve looked at the wooden chair padded on the back and seat. "Sample?"

Closing the fridge door, Emil explained, "Dining chairs."

Stepping into the kitchen, Steve cautiously leaned on the kitchen island, "So, what is the plan, Em?"

"Well, Iris said that she wants this house. So, she will be moving in here and selling her home."

"Emil…?"

"I figure we can sell off items that Iris will not want…"

"Emil, what is your plan for the hotel?"

"I'm restoring it…"

"For what purpose?"

"To let guests experience history."

Steve lifted up a stack of papers, "How are you going to pay for it all?"

"I cashed in my retirement and found some investors."

"Investors? In you? You don't know anything about running a hotel and neither does Iris."

"The investors have already taken care of that," Emil explained as he pulled a file from the stack of papers in Steve's hand.

Steve took the file and opened it to find resumes and information about three people.

Emil grabbed a prescription bottle and opened it, "They specified some funding for the hiring of these three people."

As Emil popped a pill, Steve read the first name, "Jan Mist."

"Chef."

"Alan Burman."

"General manager. I'm told he is extremely experienced and…"

"Clint Goodwin," Steve interrupted, not wanting to hear credentials.

"Contractor and caretaker for the facility once renovations are complete."

Steve dropped the file on the counter, "So, what part will Iris have in the hotel?"

"She…"

"Are there contingencies set for your… your death?"

Emil leaned on the counter and stared straight at Steve, "Every part of this is for Iris. Everything I agree upon is to make sure Iris is considered." Emil stood tall and crossed his arms, "The investors are well aware of my prognosis and the necessity of making plans for Iris upon my death. She has even met with their representatives."

"Who are these investors?"

Emil turned and returned to the fridge as he answered, "They wish to remain anonymous."

As Emil disappeared into the fridge, Steve looked at the open door intently, "You've never met them."

Emil peeked his head over the door then returned to the fridge interior, "I've met their representatives."

With a slam of his palm on the counter, Steve exclaimed, "Come on, Em. You're being taken for a ride."

Emil slammed the door shut, "Who do you take me for? I had my attorney look into them and go over the contract thoroughly."

"Who did he look into if they were anonymous?"

With a sigh of resignation and frustration, Emil stated, "He assures me the contract is legal and the funds are available." With a look of annoyance from Steve, Emil continued, "Just leave it be. The money has come through and everything is working out. Stop being the police detective that you are."

Iris stepped back from the podium on the little stage that had been created for the grand opening as the limo stopped at the top of the arched driveway. The group that stood in front of the stage were a combination of first guests, reporters, and city interested parties. All dress to the hilt in Victorian themed garb. When the mayor climbed out of the vehicle, complete with top hat and walking cane, Iris was mystified about his reasoning. While he approached the stage, Iris tried to decipher why he would be there. Despite working in the same building with him, she had very little contact with him and no recollection of telling him about the hotel. She assumed he wouldn't have even paid attention to her giving her final notice yesterday.

However, she let him interrupt the proceedings of the ribbon cutting. He stepped to the mic and motioned for her to continue forward. As she stepped towards the podium, he spoke into the mic, "My apologies for my tardiness, but I had to do a quick change. Which is not easy to do in these clothes." The audience chuckled with an understanding at the personal struggles each faced. The women with corsets and layers of skirts. The numerous buttons and laces.

"Miss Journey, I'm well aware you were not told of my plans to be here today."

Iris shook her head as she looked around at faces giddy with anticipation of those who helped to research the hotel. "I informed your staff and requested they maintain the secret. At the start of this endeavor, your father filled out an application that I was thrilled to be a part of." The mayor motioned his assistant forward with a frame. "Miss Journey, I'm proud to announce that Victoria Journey Hotel has been placed on the National Historic registry."

Iris shook his offered hand and took the frame, stunned that her father never let on. Not even during those nights that he was in so much pain that he bared his soul to her.

The mayor motioned towards the hotel and all watched as Clint pulled the cloth from the wall and showed the plaque affixed to the outer wall next to the entrance.

Stepping back, the mayor motioned for Iris to speak. "I don't know what to say, except that I'm a little nervous on how well everyone kept a secret from me."

The audience chuckled again as she continued, "I want to thank you mayor for being here today to present us with this honor. I want to thank everyone who helped to accomplish every detail of this project. My father's dream was to provide every visitor with an experience and as I look out at you all dressed like they would have dressed the first day this hotel opened, I can see my father's dream coming true."

Iris stepped away from the mic and to the ribbon draped in front of the stairs to the entrance. Clint descended the stairs and passed her a pair of antique scissors. "Welcome to the re-opening of the Victoria Hotel."

All applauded as she cut the ribbon and the audience filed up the stairs. Numerous gasped as the front doors were opened and first looks were taken.

There was so much to see, eyes were looking in every direction as staff approached to help those who were staying the night.

Emil had maintained the wall of windows for the front wall that opened to the second floor. Only the frame around the door and parts of the door were wood. A large crystal chandelier hung in the lobby opening that would have been the second floor to fill the area with light after the sun disappeared. Until then, the sun casted rainbows all around the lobby and to the circular area that led to stairs.

The metal lattice stairs started on the right of the circular center. The four feet wide stairs clung to the outside of the rotunda with a landing on each floor. However, there was a simple addition by Emil's design. A narrower stairwell that led to the roof with access from the secret panel he found made into a proper doorway. Each floor branched off from the metal stairs and railings.

Iris descended the circular stairs to the lower levels. Rolling her jaw from smiling all day. Trying to think dignified as she hiked up the long skirts and petticoats to play into Alan Butman's insistence on period clothing. Making her grateful the temps were cool enough to make all the layers tolerable.

Her father insisted on maintaining the appearance for staff, but as temperatures of April climb starting in May and June, considerations will have to be made. She didn't need employees passing out from heat exhaustion. A meeting with those designing staff clothes was requested, but Alan was dragging his feet.

All Iris wanted to concentrate on was stepping out of the clothes and enjoying a refreshing shower. When the hotel first opened, many staff lived on site and a female bunk area and a male bunk area had been created. Emil wanted to maintain those amenities. Not for the purpose of people living on site, but for moments like Iris needing to wash the day away before returning to the twenty-first century.

The metal, circular stairs were butted up against the exterior wall and as she made it to the halfway point, Iris was certain she saw movement between the stairs and basement exterior wall. Unable to move very quickly in the layers, Iris attempted to bend over to see who it was. After a few heartbeats of seeing nothing, she released her breath and brushed it off too a long day.

Stepping on the basement floor, Iris released her skirts and took a step forward. She froze as she felt something brush past behind her. Her mind filled with the stories one of her co-workers tried to pass on to her about the hotel. Janet was notorious at city hall for all her supernatural utterances and automatically placed blame for anything on a spirit. Hundreds of soldiers had died within these walls. Owner's having difficulty keeping builders to finish any work. The last owner simply disappeared without a trace. As the hotel was heading towards completion ahead of schedule, Iris shoved all the woman's research into a file somewhere and saw no tangible evidence of her superstitions.

Hyper vigilant, Iris walked towards the women's bunk room. Her eyes refused to rest as she made her way down the hallway holding onto the wall to support her shaky steps. With one more look around she opened the door.

Iris stood before her locker within the line up of wooden lockers on one wall of the woman's bunk room. She began to undo the numerous buttons on her shirt and despite the determination to believe it was just the excitement of the day, her mind wandered back to her sitting at her desk and Janet leaning on the raised portion of the desk.

"Didn't you ever wonder why no one owned it for very long?"

"Because of the cost of renovating it."

"But it didn't remain open long after the Civil War."

"The country was going through a rough time of recovery. Owner's had difficulty returning it back to a hotel after it was a hospital for so long."

"Exactly."

Iris looked up at Janet from her paperwork confused by the agreement. Janet quickly explained, "The building was having difficulty because it was haunted by the Rebel POWs that died in it."

"You really think a southerner would want to spend his afterlife in an Ohio hotel."

"They lost the war, they had to get revenge somehow."

Iris tried to maintain decorum as she spoke, "Well, we haven't had any problems."

"Maybe they want you to build up a false sense of security," Janet retorted as she walked away before Iris could make another comment.

Iris started to pull the top layer over her head when she noticed a subtle blue light glow through the light green fabric. Pulling the dress back down, Iris looked into the face of a woman standing between her and the locker. The blue light seemed to radiate from her skin and her hair moved as if the woman was floating underwater. Iris looked down, but the woman's long, flowing skirts made it difficult to see if she had legs and if she was standing on them.

"I don't know you," the woman spoke, "but I sense the presence of the builder in you."

"Builder?"

"The one I inspired to restore this building."

"You knew my father?"

"Father, that would explain it." The woman turned to go and Iris reached out to grab her arm, but her hand passed right through. The woman stopped, and turned only her head, "I'm not physically here."

"What?"

"My apologies, but I do not have time to explain. I was looking for the builder."

"He's dead."

"I am too late."

Iris opened her mouth to demand explanations, but the woman vanished. Giving her question to the air, "Too late for what?"