Adelaide Confused by Penny Greenhorn Page A

you break a window?”
    “ It’s possible it broke
itself. Old windows are bound to become fragile, I hear it
happens.”
    “ It broke itself,” he
repeated in disbelief. “That’s the best lie you could come up
with?”
    “ I said it’s possible it
broke itself. That’s not a lie,” I explained.
    “Trying to take advantage of a poor old man,
you ought to be ashamed.” He could pretend all he wanted, but I
knew he enjoyed these ornery conversations.
    “What poor old man?” I asked. “I thought you
were fit as a fox.”
    “ Piss off, Adelaide,” he
muttered as he shuffled out the door.
    “I guess that’s a no to the window then?” I
called after him.
     
* * *
     
    I felt her before I saw
her, a shifting miasma of emotions. I wanted to hide, that was my
first thought. But as she bustled through the door I was held in
place by my own gruesome fascination.
    She wore a knee-length pea
jacket in deep purple which matched her floral print purse. Her
makeup was too heavy, her hair too tall, and her jewelry too gaudy.
It was easy to picture her shopping at a Hallmark store.
    She approached the front
desk, bringing feelings of outrage, rejection, and sadness closer
with each step. “Hello,” she said as she settled her purse atop the
counter. “I need a room please,” her voice cracked. The tears were
coming.
    Wanting to get rid of her,
especially before the crying started, I rushed through the check-in
process. I’d just gotten the needed signatures when she began to
sniffle, her eyes turning watery.
    “ Here’s your key,” I said,
thrusting it at her, “room twelve.” That was as far from me as I
could put her.
    She took it slowly, but didn’t turn to
leave.
    “ Have a pleasant evening,”
I hinted.
    Her lips flattened, the
edges turning down—that was all the warning I got. Abruptly she was
sobbing, tears streaming down both cheeks. Her feelings began to
bubble up and boil over, suffocating any sense of propriety she
might have felt. There was only hurt. It stemmed from alienation
and loneliness, leaving behind a bitter disappointment. I felt it,
and yet I felt nothing.
    You might think being an
empath made me kind and compassionate, seeing as I was capable of
more than simple sympathy. But no, being an empath had made me
somewhat dead inside. I saw someone crying, I ran the other way. I
felt their sorrow, I tried to leave. It was a matter of survival
really, self-preservation.
    I watched stoically as she
pulled a cloth kerchief from her sleeve, blowing her nose as she
began to babble. “I mean, I paid to be here and she’s just going
to...” She shook her head. “...to pull this, acting as if it was
all an accident!” Her outrage and indignation swelled. She looked
at me. “Did you know she had the audacity to pretend the hotel had
made a mistake? A bold-faced lie if I ever heard one!”
    I stared at her.
    Apparently that was all the
prompting she needed. “She’s the queen you know, so I can’t do
anything about it.”
    Now I was curious, and
since she wasn’t likely to shut up anytime soon, I figured it
wouldn’t hurt to ask. “queen?”
    “ Yes,” she said, rubbing
her nose. “She started the chapter.”
    “Chapter?”
    She dabbed at her eyes.
“Didn’t I say? Oh, well, sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me. I
suppose it’s just one of those days, did you ever have one of
those? You know, where everything goes wrong?”
    I shook my head, but she
didn’t seem to notice.
    “ I bought this coat because
I’ll be graduating from pink to red soon.” She stroked the arm of
her jacket. “I thought it would be alright to wear. I’m only a few
weeks from fifty. But Kathy, that’s the queen, she said it wasn’t
appropriate, that I should be wearing lavender.” I felt a renewal
of her hurt and humiliation. “But I couldn’t help wearing it, I was
so looking forward to the trip. Then we get here and I don’t have a
room!” A spike of anger; I wondered if it might be mine.