27 - A Night in Terror Tower (5 page)

“Why would my parents give me play money?” I asked the driver.

He shrugged. “I don’t know your parents.”

“Well, they will pay you the fifteen pounds,” I told him. I struggled to
shove the big coins back into my pocket.

“Fifteen pounds, sixty—plus tip,” the driver said, frowning at me. “Where
are your parents? In the hotel?”

I nodded. “Yes. They were at a meeting in the hotel. But they’re probably up
in the room now. We’ll get them to come down and pay you.”

“In real money, if you please,” the driver said, rolling his eyes. “If they’re not down here in five minutes, I’ll come in
after you.”

“They’ll be right down. I promise,” I told him.

I pushed open the door and scrambled out of the cab. Eddie followed me onto
the sidewalk, shaking his head. “This is weird,” he muttered.

A red-uniformed doorman held the hotel door open for us, and we hurried into
the huge, chandeliered lobby. Most people seemed to be heading the other way,
going out for dinner, I guessed.

My stomach grumbled. I suddenly realized I was starving.

Eddie and I made our way past the long front desk. We were walking so fast,
we nearly collided with a bellman pushing a big cart stacked high with
suitcases.

To our right, I could hear dishes clattering in the hotel restaurant. The
aroma of fresh-baked bread floated in the air.

The elevator doors opened. A red-haired woman in a fur coat stepped off,
walking a white toy poodle. Eddie got tangled in the leash. I had to pull him
free so we wouldn’t miss the elevator.

We stumbled into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, I pushed Six. “What
was wrong with that money?” Eddie asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess Dad made a mistake.”

The doors slid open on six, and we hurried side by side down the long, carpeted hall to our room.

I stepped around a room service tray on the floor. Someone had left half a
sandwich and part of a bowl of fruit. My stomach rumbled again, reminding me how
hungry I was.

“Here we are.” Eddie ran up to the door to room 626 and knocked. “Hey, Mom!
Dad! It’s us!”

“Open up!” I called impatiently.

Eddie knocked again, a little louder. “Hey—!”

We pressed our ears close to the door and listened.

Silence. No footsteps. No voices.

“Hey—are you in there?” Eddie called. He knocked again. “Hurry up! It’s
us!”

He turned to me. “They
must
be out of that meeting by now,” he
muttered.

I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Mom? Dad? Are you there?” I called in.

No reply.

Eddie’s shoulders slumped, and he let out an unhappy sigh. “Now what?”

“Are you having trouble?” a woman’s voice asked.

I turned to see a hotel maid. She wore a gray uniform and a small white cap
over her short, dark hair. She had been pushing a cart loaded with towels. She
stopped across from Eddie and me.

“Our parents are still at a meeting,” I told her. “My brother and I—we’re
locked out.”

She studied us for a moment. Then she stepped away from the cart and raised a
large keychain filled with keys.

“I’m not really supposed to do this,” she said, shuffling through the
clattering keys. “But I guess it’s okay to let you kids in.”

She put a key into the lock, turned it, and pushed open the door for us.
Eddie and I both thanked her and told her she was a lifesaver. She smiled and
moved on down the hall, pushing her towel cart.

The room was dark. I clicked on the light as Eddie and I stepped in.

“They’re not here,” I said softly. “No sign of them.”

“They probably left a note,” Eddie replied. “Maybe they had to go out with
people from the meeting. Or maybe they’re down in the restaurant, waiting for
us.”

Our room was actually a suite. A front room and two bedrooms.

Turning on lights as I went, I made my way to the desk in the corner. A
writing pad and pen rested in the center of the desk. But the pad was blank. No
message.

No message from Mom or Dad on the bedtable, either.

“That’s weird,” Eddie muttered.

I crossed the room and stepped into their bedroom. I clicked on the ceiling light and glanced around.

The room had been made up. The bed was smooth and unwrinkled. There was no
message for us anywhere. The dressertop lay bare. No clothes tossed over a
chair. No shoes on the floor. No briefcases or notepads from their meeting.

No sign that anyone had even been in the room.

I turned and saw that Eddie had moved to the closet. He pushed the sliding
door open all the way.

“Sue, look!” he shouted. “No clothes! Mom’s and Dad’s clothes—our clothes—they’re all gone!”

A heavy feeling of dread started in my stomach and weighted down my entire
body. “What is going
on
here?” I cried.

“They wouldn’t just leave!” I exclaimed. I walked over to the closet and
checked it out for myself. I don’t know what I expected to see. It was clear
from across the room that the closet was completely empty.

“Are you sure we’re in the right room?” Eddie asked. He pulled open the top
dresser drawer. Empty.

“Of course this is the right room,” I replied impatiently.

Eddie pulled out the rest of the dresser drawers. They were all empty.

We searched every inch of the room. No sign of Mom or Dad.

“We’d better go down to the desk,” I suggested, thinking hard. “We’ll find
out what room the meeting is being held in. Then we’ll go there and talk to Mom
and Dad.”

“I can’t believe they’re still at the meeting,” Eddie murmured, shaking his head. “And why would they pack up and take all
our clothes to the meeting with them?”

“I’m sure there’s a good answer,” I said. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs.”

We made our way back down the long hall and took the elevator to the lobby.

We found a crowd around the front desk. A large woman, dressed in a green
pantsuit, was arguing angrily about her room. “I was promised a view of the
river,” she screamed at the red-faced man behind the desk. “And I want a view of
the river!”

“But, madam,” he replied softly, “the hotel is not located near the river. We
do not have any river views from this hotel.”

“I must have a river view!” the woman insisted. “I have it right here in
writing!” She flashed a sheet of paper in front of the man’s face.

The argument continued for a few minutes more. I quickly lost interest in it.
I thought about Mom and Dad. I wondered where they were. I wondered why they
hadn’t left us a note or a message.

Eddie and I finally got up to the desk about ten minutes later. The clerk
tucked some papers into a file, then turned to us with an automatic smile. “Can
I help you?”

“We’re trying to find our parents,” I said, leaning my elbows on the desk. “They’re in the meeting, I think. Can you tell us
where the meeting is?”

He stared at me for a long moment, his face blank, as if he didn’t
understand. “What meeting is that?” he asked finally.

I thought hard. I couldn’t remember what the meeting was called. Or what it
was about.

“It’s the big meeting,” I replied uncertainly. “The one people came from all
over the world for.”

He twisted his mouth into a thoughtful pout. “Hmmm…”

“A very big meeting,” Eddie chimed in.

“We have a problem,” the clerk said, frowning. He scratched his right ear.
“There aren’t any meetings in the hotel this week.”

I stared back at him. My mouth dropped open. I started to say something, but
the words just didn’t come out.

“No meetings?” Eddie asked weakly.

The clerk shook his head. “No meetings.”

A young woman called to him from the office. He signaled to me that he’d be
right back. Then he hurried over to see what she wanted.

“Are we in the right hotel?” Eddie whispered to me. I could see the worry
tighten his features.

“Of course,” I said sharply. “Why do you keep asking me these dumb questions?
I’m not an idiot, you know. Why do you keep asking, is this the right room? Is
this the right hotel?”

“Because nothing makes sense,” he muttered.

I started to reply, but the clerk returned to the desk. “May I ask your room
number?” he demanded, scratching his ear again.

“Six twenty-six,” I told him.

He punched several keys on his computer keyboard, then squinted at the green
monitor. “I’m sorry. That room is vacant,” he said.

“What?” I cried.

The clerk studied me, narrowing his eyes. “There is no one in room 626 at the
present,” he repeated.

“But
we
are!” Eddie cried.

The clerk forced a smile to his face. He raised both hands, as if to say,
“Let’s all remain calm.”

“We will find your parents,” he told us, leaving the smile frozen on his
face. He punched a few computer keys. “Now, what is your last name?”

I opened my mouth to answer. But no answer came to my mind.

I glanced at Eddie. His face was knitted in concentration.

“What is your last name, kids?” the clerk repeated. “If your parents are in
the hotel, I’m sure we can track them down for you. But I need to know your last
name.”

I stared blankly at him.

I had a strange, tingly feeling that started at the back of my neck and ran
all the way down my body. I suddenly felt as if I couldn’t breathe, as if my heart had stopped.

My last name. My last name…

Why couldn’t I remember my last name?

I could feel my body start to shake. Tears brimmed in my eyes.

This was so upsetting!

My name is Sue,
I told myself.
Sue… Sue… what?

Shaking, tears running down my cheeks, I grabbed Eddie by the shoulders.
“Eddie,” I demanded, “what’s our last name?”

“I—I don’t know!” he sobbed.

“Oh, Eddie!” I pulled my brother close and hugged him. “What’s wrong with us?
What’s
wrong
with us?”

“We have to stay calm,” I told my brother. “If we take a deep breath and just
relax, I’m sure we’ll be able to remember.”

“I guess you’re right,” Eddie replied uncertainly. He stared straight ahead.
He was gritting his teeth, trying hard not to cry.

It was a few minutes later. The desk clerk had suggested that we go to the
hotel restaurant. He promised he’d try to find our parents while we ate.

That suggestion was fine with Eddie and me. We were both starving!

We sat at a small table in the back of the restaurant. I gazed around the
big, elegant room. Crystal chandeliers cast sparkling light over the
well-dressed diners. On a small balcony overlooking the room, a string quartet
played classical music.

Eddie tapped his hands nervously on the white tablecloth. I kept picking up the heavy silverware and twirling it in my
hand.

The tables all around us were filled with laughing, happy people. Three
children at the next table, very dressed up, were singing a song in French to
their smiling parents.

Eddie leaned over the table and whispered to me. “How are we going to pay for
the food? Our money isn’t any good.”

“We can charge it to the room,” I replied. “When we figure out what room
we’re in.” Eddie nodded and slouched back in his high-backed chair.

A waiter in a black tuxedo appeared beside the table. He smiled at Eddie and
me. “Welcome to the Barclay,” he said. “And what may I bring you this evening?”

“Could we see a menu?” I asked.

“There is no menu right now,” the waiter replied, without changing his smile.
“We are still serving tea.”

“Only tea?” Eddie cried. “No food?”

The waiter chuckled. “Our high tea includes sandwiches, scones, croissants,
and an assortment of pastries.”

“Yes. We’ll have that,” I told him.

He gave a quick bow of his head, turned, and headed toward the kitchen.

“At least we’ll get something to eat,” I murmured.

Eddie didn’t seem to hear me. He kept glancing at the doorway at the front of
the restaurant. I knew he was looking for Mom and Dad.

“Why can’t we remember our last name?” he asked glumly.

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I’m very confused.”

Every time I started to think about it, I felt dizzy. I kept telling myself I
was just hungry. You’ll remember after you’ve had something to eat, I kept
repeating.

The waiter brought a tray of tiny sandwiches, cut into triangles. I
recognized egg salad and tunafish. I didn’t know what the others were.

But Eddie and I didn’t care. We started devouring the sandwiches as soon as
the waiter set them down.

We drank two cups of tea. Then our next tray arrived with scones and
croissants. We loaded them up with butter and strawberry jam, and gobbled them
down hungrily.

“Maybe if we tell the man at the front desk what Mom and Dad look like, he
can help us find them,” Eddie suggested. He grabbed the last croissant before I
could get it.

“Good idea,” I said.

Then I let out a silent gasp. I had the dizzy feeling again.

“Eddie,” I said, “I can’t remember what Mom and Dad look like!”

He let the croissant fall from his hand. “I can’t either,” he murmured,
lowering his head. “This is crazy, Sue!”

I shut my eyes. “Shhh. Just try to picture them,” I urged. “Force away all
other thoughts. Concentrate. Try to picture then.”

“I—I can’t!” Eddie stammered. I could hear the panic in his high-pitched
voice. “Something is wrong, Sue. Something is very wrong with us.”

I swallowed hard. I opened my eyes. I couldn’t conjure up any kind of picture
of my parents.

I tried thinking about Mom. Was she blond? Red-haired? Black-haired? Was she
tall? Short? Thin? Fat?

I couldn’t remember.

“Where do we live?” Eddie wailed. “Do we live in a house? I can’t picture it,
Sue. I can’t picture it at all.”