Tales of Slack: Chapter 22 (continued)

"The Shadow Hotel San Wa"
Naha City, Okinawa, Japan. July 2002.



“What’s worse than the Yakuza?”

“This is a black market district; the Yakuza are the good guys.”

“Oh. . .yeah. . .that makes sense.” I said slumping into the van’s back seat.

“How much time before the typhoon hits?” Yurimi asked Ackley.

“It’s practically here. Can't you feel the wind hitting the van?”

The sky was darker and it looked like it was 7 at night instead of 3 in the afternoon. Ackley wove in and out of traffic avoiding scooters and stopped taxi cabs. He pulled out of the small alley-like streets onto the 222 headed towards Shuri Castle. Construction cranes jutted up across the landscape as more concrete bunker looking buildings were erected crowding out the tiled roves of the traditional Okinawan houses.

“I’m still waiting, patiently I might add, to hear why it’s called the Shadow Hotel San Wa and why it’s so bad.” Yurimi said.

“Besides the obvious.” I chimed in.

“It doesn’t exist.”

“What do you mean 'it doesn't exist?' Like on paper for tax purposes?”

“No, I mean it is not there. No such place in this world.”

“We just left our luggage somewhere. Yurimi’s mom gave someone our credit card information when she made the reservations. So it’s real.”

“Look. . .when I left the real Hotel San Wa I called Fujiwari and he said that the Shadow Hotel San Wa used to be a house that burned down years ago.” Ackley’s voice seemed to switch into campfire story mode. “The dude that lived there died in, of all places, the shower. He was burned alive while being in water.”

“Get out.” Yurimi said looking intently at Ackley as he drove faster on the 222.

“It gets weirder. When people walked by the ruins at night they could still hear sounds of a shower running.”

“A sewer drain most likely.” Even though I always considered myself a man of science, I winced inside because as soon as I said that I felt like Scully from the X-files. I was not a fan of Scully’s eternal skepticism.

“Maybe, but after a few years they built a new building over the ruins. They even did a Shinto purification ceremony on it and everything, but no one would go near it. No customers showed up and no one would work there. So it’s been unoccupied all this time.”

“That’s just a ghost story, man. It’s a real hotel. I have the hotel room key in my pocket.” I moved my hand to my pocket only to find it empty.

Yurimi was turned around in the front passenger seat of the van staring back at me expectantly. My heart was racing and could practically feel the dark forces aligning against us. I turned and looked up yet again at the swirling dark clouds over Okinawa.

“. . .Typical. . .” I sighed and shook my head slowly in defeat. “I really hate your mother, Yurimi.”

Tales of Slack: Chapter 22

"The Shadow Hotel San Wa"
Naha City, Okinawa, Japan. July 2002.





“I can’t figure out these damn AC controls.” It looked like a little pocket electronic game bolted to the wall. I eventually gave up and slumped on the bed. The pillows were stuffed with plastic beads like a buckwheat pillow. A synthetic buckwheat pillow that apparently was designed for robots to sleep on.

Yurimi was sitting in the raised doorway of the closet-like bathroom. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah. . .at least it’s stuck on cold.”

Outside the window, the approaching typhoon had the skies asphalt gray and the tangle of power lines swinging. The roof tops of Naha City’s black market district made a jumbled skyline. I looked at my watch for the 100th time in 15 minutes.

“When’s Ackley getting here?”

“He said he was on his way.”

Still looking at my watch, I tried to do the math to figure out what time it was in the States. The phone rang. Yurimi answered it. “Hey. . .Are you here?” A confused look went across her face as she apparently listened to who ever was on the other end. “What? No way. Check and see if there’s another! Ok.” And she hung up.

“What?” I asked.

“He said he was here at the Hotel San Wa.”

“Yeah. But?”

“But he said he was down by the big fountain in the lobby.”

“But. . .but there isn’t a fountain in the lobby. . .I wouldn't even call that a lobby!”

“Yeah, yeah I know. Apparently there is two Hotel San Was in Naha City.”

“What’s the chances?” I shook my head. “How much time we have before the typhoon hits?”

“Who knows. I think the typhoon is the red spikey thing.” Yurimi said thumbing towards the TV with its sound turned off showing the weather in Japanese.

“Let’s go out and wait for Ackley on the street.” She said standing up.

“Yeah, let’s.” I felt the front pocket of my shorts to see if I still had the wad of 35,000 Japanese Yen. I did. It was only about $350, but we were going to need it.

As we left the hotel room, I noticed that the outside of the door was completely coated in condensation from the cold room inside the humid hallway. A pool of water was at the base of the door soaking the thin carpet. “Man, it’s freaking humid.” I said sliding the door shut and locking it. I could feel sweat immediately starting to build on my back and forehead. I stuck the room key in my Hawaiian-style shirt that had green bamboo on it. Years later I almost didn't throw the shirt away because it reminded me of Naha City, but I never wore it anymore, so I chucked it.

We walked down the steep steps of the stairway and out the "micro lobby" of the hotel. The air in the tight alley was motionless as the sky above swirled with angry gray clouds. The outdoor black market appeared to be collectively deciding to shut down for the typhoon, albeit reluctantly. Stall keepers were moving in slow motion, looking about, just in case a last minute customer were to show up. The two of us walked along the edge of the entrance of the vast black market of Naha City, and turned out towards the main roads. An alley cat with a crooked tail ambled beside us in the gutter. As we waited on the corner, the cat continued to amble on into the street and was smacked by a passing scooter. It rolled nonchalantly, got back up, and continued its journey into another alley.

“Did you see that!” I said watching the gray cat disappear in the afternoon shadows.

“No, what?” She pointed down the street, “Hey, there’s Ackley.”

Ackley pulled up to the curb and rolled down the window, “Hey, what’s up?” He glanced back and forth and then conspiratorially asked, “Did you know you’re staying in the shadow Hotel San Wa?”

“Is it Yakuza?” Yurimi asked narrowing her eyes.

Ackley shook his head, “No, something worse. . .Get in.”