“Um,” he said, looking over at his friends to see if they’d heard. By the stunned looks on their faces, he figured they had. He turned back to the man. “Yeah, I’m Tick, I mean, Atticus.”
“That’s great, real great,” the man said, more relieved than happy. “Someone named, um, Mothball asked me to find you and offer you rooms in my hotel, The Stroke of Midnight Inn. My name is Phillip, and I’m happy to accommodate you.”
Then he bowed. He actually bowed.
Tick felt immediately suspicious, and it only took a second for him to see his friends felt the same.
“Mothball sent you?” Sofia asked.
“Why didn’t she come herself?” Paul added.
Phillip pulled his head back, looking like a startled—albeit pudgy—chicken. “I don’t know—why would I make something like that up?”
“What does she look like?” Tick asked.
The man didn’t hesitate. “She’s very tall—the tallest person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Black hair, thin, not very . . . well, what I mean to say is . . . well, she’s a bit homely, to be honest.”
“A-plus on that quiz,” Paul muttered, and Tick felt himself relax a little.
“She said you’d be staying here for a week or so,” Phillip continued. “She paid me in advance and asked me to provide you three meals a day, plus whatever else you might need.”
The prospect of a nice hotel room, a hot shower, and all the food he could eat sounded to Tick like the single best idea in the history of best ideas.
“Good enough for me,” Paul said. “Where do we go?”
“Wait a minute,” Sofia said, holding out her hand. “There has to be something else. There’s no message, no reason, nothing? I don’t like this.”
“Actually,” Phillip said, “she did leave you an envelope. It’s sealed, so of course I don’t know its contents. Oddly enough, she asked me to give it to you at exactly six o’clock.” He looked at his watch. “Um, tomorrow morning.”
Tick looked at his own watch—it was just past six-thirty. “Sounds pretty legit to me. I actually feel a ton better—like maybe Master George is behind all of this after all.”
“Yeah,” Paul agreed. “Let’s go eat.”
Sofia didn’t answer at first, her eyes distant as she thought it over. “Where’s the hotel?” she finally asked.
“Right this way,” Phillip said, stepping aside and sweeping his arm wide. “If you’ll follow me, it’s on the edge of town. In fact, I’ve reserved rooms for you with a great view.”
As Phillip led the group north along the road, Paul asked, “A view of what?”
“The forest, of course,” Phillip said without missing a step. “If you look out your window after dark, you might see the glowing monkeys.”
Tick waited for the man to laugh, but the only one who did was Paul. Tick almost asked if he’d been serious, but with everyone else silent, he felt stupid for even thinking it. Of course the guy was kidding. Wasn’t he?
Chapter
23
~
The Time Riddle
The hotel was like something out of Hollywood. Big pillars, stamped gold everywhere, doormen in green velvet coats running around, treating their guests like royalty. A huge sign hung above the entrance with The Stroke of Midnight Inn written in fancy script. Inside, everything sparkled and shone, and not a person in sight had a grimace or the slightest hint of a frown. Plush red carpet blanketed the floors and grand staircase, over which an enormous chandelier hung with hundreds of crystalline lights.
I’ve died and gone to heaven, Tick thought.
He knew Paul must feel the same, but Sofia would surely find something to complain about, having come from such a rich family.
Phillip led them to the fourth floor—walking up the stairs, the poor man sucked in huge gasps of breath with every step—and down a long hallway to their rooms. When Paul asked him why they hadn’t used the elevator, Phillip responded with a baffled look, as if he’d never heard of such a thing.
Phillip opened up a room with an old-fashioned key. Tick was surprised since he’d only ever seen the magnetic-stripe key card at hotels. The room was filled with normal hotel things: a king-sized bed, a small refrigerator, a couch, a desk, and a bathroom. The only difference was that the items were ten times nicer than the stuff in hotels Tick had been in when his family traveled.
“There are three rooms in all,” Phillip announced, passing out keys accordingly. “There’s a menu on the desk for you to order food from the restaurant. Please be reasonable, but make sure you feed yourself nicely. Is there anything—”
“Where’s the TV?” Paul asked.
Phillip gave him that same bewildered look, his brow crunched up into dozens of wrinkles. “A TV? What’s that?”
“Television. You know—movies, shows, commercials, television?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tick looked at the light on the wall, which Phillip had turned on when they’d entered the room. They obviously had electricity here, but seemed to be missing a lot of other things common to Reality Prime.