Mystery Short Story

Just like every day, I come in for work. Going through rooms and cleaning to make sure each room is spotless and equal. I like the eerie but calming absolute nothing sounds that come out of the rooms. It gives me a break to relax. I have been a faithful employee for several years at the Stardust Hotel.
Although, today stepping into room 222 I was aghast at the wreckage of whomever used the room last. No one had checked in last night and I was just coming in to do my daily dusting. I stepped into the room and with every step I crunched on gray wrapping paper that was piled high on the carpet. Why would anyone want to put paper all over the floor? Glancing at the walls, I saw that the walls were covered in red that smelled like drying paint, which must have been part of the smell that wafted toward me when I first entered.
I made my way over to the bed and sat down next to a small collection of items. The first thing I noticed was a pretty pink case. I examined it, looking for any possibility that it had fingerprints. I wanted to figure out why someone had come in the middle of the night and trashed the room. I couldn’t find anything but inside contained a unique toothbrush that was collapsible. I had never seen anything like that in stores. It must have been a specially ordered brush for traveling. I think whoever left it will probably miss it tonight. Next to the brush was bandaging cloth that was almost empty. As if someone had dumped their first aid kit all over the bed. There were also cheap eye drops, Dayquil, and a used orange earplug in the pile. What went wrong and why did they leave it if they might need it again?
While I was contemplating this I started to head towards the miniature fridge. On top were several empty containers that were rinsed but not thrown away. I wondered to my self why anyone would set out empty containers. It was almost as if they were planning on using it again but had to leave in a hurry. Things just kept getting odder and odder. I scanned the containers. There was an organic soymilk container and an empty squished milk jug. Although, don’t usually people only drink soy or regular milk, not both? Among those were a pie plate, a coffee cup, and an empty raspberry Yoplait yogurt cup. I felt a little peeved that who ever had been here didn’t clean up after themselves. Its not that there isn’t trash cans, there are, it must have been on purpose that they were left nice and neatly on the refrigerator washed and in order while everything else is disorganized and messy. I felt frazzled just at the thought of having to clean up this mess, but at least they cleaned the garbage for me to throw away, thank you so very much.
I surveyed the rest of the room. Spread across the room were playing cards that looked brand new, trendy but pretty sunglasses that I thought I might sneak off with, a full container of cracked heel softener, a raggedy copy of the classic the Adventures of Tom Sawyer, an out of business promotional flashlight, two suspicious packages of parmesan cheese, and an extensive Wal-Mart receipt. They were on the bookshelves, in the dresser, on the side table, in the small bathroom, on the desk, and ultimately anywhere they could stash them. It felt like I was on a treasure hunt for a treasure that is unknown and a destination I wasn’t given.
I was a little frightened since I expected that any minute the person who made this mess might still be here and jump out at me. I tried to assess my situation, to think clearly about my options. I could leave it be and just clean up the mess and go on with the day, I could report it and have someone else figure out what to do, or I could do what my brain is screaming for me to do which is figure out what happened last night. So I did what anyone with an overwhelming sense of curiosity would do, I set off to figure out what had happened.
I would like to say I was brave enough to go alone in search of the Unknown Person, as I was starting to think of whoever was in room 222, but no, I was a coward so I went to find my cleaning friend. She too likes to clean rooms at the Stardust Hotel. I swiftly walked through the hallways looking into every unoccupied room. I found her in room 29 vacuuming. Trying not to startle her I knocked on the open door frame. “Hello Maria,” I said in a quiet voice as not to disturb any of our guests.
The room she was in was sparkling like a ruby ring someone had spent a lot of time working for. She looked peaceful and at ease. I could tell that we shared a rare passion from the beginning. It is extraordinarily difficult to find one who enjoys the solitary work of a maid. Despite my attempts to not frighten her, she made a little jump and quickly looked up. “Oh, good morning Sally, can I help you?” She asked. Excitedly I poured out my story, and by the end of it we were gleaming with the exceptional inquisitiveness that only was found on bizarre days like today.
“How do we find out who it was?” Maria asked with uncertainty. I wasn’t sure how we would find the Unknown Person. Would they come again? Would I be prepared if they did? Did I want it to come again? I had many inquiries but no resolutions. Maria and I sat on the maroon bed, identical to the one in room 222, and waited for an elongated time just for a pinch of inspiration. When abruptly Maria jumped up and exclaimed “Eureka!” I animatedly sprung up next to her waiting for her to enlighten me with her wisdom. “Let’s catch him!” She proclaimed. “Or her,” I clarified. I was slightly skeptical of how we would entrap a person. Though, the more I contemplated on the theory the more potentially achievable it seemed. So I seized a piece of paper from the room’s desk and snatched a cheap pen and Maria and I started making our plans to capture the Unknown Person.
We soon became aware of the fact that it was problematic to try to even attempt to detain a person even for a split second. Although, after inspecting all of our diverse options we conclusively determined that simply opening all of the first floor windows and setting up video cameras in each of the rooms and then running to which ever room had someone in it and then hopefully tying them down with durable rope.
Subsequently we put up the veiled cameras and we set up station in the hall. Maria was on one side of the floor and I was on the other. Via internet we communicated how things were going in our sections of the floor. As a result of it being late at night there was no one at the Stardust hotel. Which was advantageous seemingly as anyone gazing towards us would be understandably perplexed.
I lingered for a long time when I out of the blue had to go the bathroom. I typed to Maria “I will be right back, I have to go to the restroom.” Just after I pushed enter I heard my computer start beeping, declaring that there was someone in room 223. So I typed, “Meet me in room 223.”. I dashed to room 223 in pursuit of the Unknown Person. Little by little I turned the door knob so not to alarm whoever was in the room. Creeping open the door I saw a seven-year-old adorning the room with sparkles, paper, and whatever the little boy had in his sack bag. Originating a room of magic and love.
Maria appeared next to me but not quite in the same quiet way that I had. The boy startled, looked up and started heading to the door. Maria, the best lassoer the world has ever known, lassoed the little boy in ropes. He began to weep and wail. I felt compassion for the stray soul. We tied him to the antique mahogany desk chair with the deep fern green cushion. I tried to make him as cozy and relaxed as possible. I put some classical music on and lit the fireplace next to him. I turned on a lamp so it had soothing luminosity.
I took Maria out to the hall so we could converse about our options. “He is obviously an orphan Sally, but he can’t stay at my humble abode,” Maria said in alarm to even the thought of taking a petite child home with her. I was living by myself at the moment and I was making enough money but could I, in actuality supervise a little boy? Without prior to thinking about the question I found myself saying, “I’ll take him!” I don’t know why I accepted him in the first place but I knew without a doubt it was meant to be.
So walked back into room 223 and the situated myself on the bed across from the little boy and explained the situation. By the end of the conversation he agreed and whispered in the tinniest voice I’d ever heard, “Thank you.” I unraveled him, took him by the hand, and walked home. I can now comprehend why someone might have turned room 222 into a muddle. It was because it was home to a starving orphan and it was the best place he had been in for a long while. For that I am tolerable for having to clean up room 222 and any abhorrence I may or may not have felt in my heart has been replaced with affection to my new son.