Rebekah Romeo.
That name will be forever etched into my soul. She was my drama teacher back in school. A beautiful, fearsome woman with a good heart and a smoking body. Even now, just thinking back to those days causes my breathing to hasten slightly. You could argue that it was just teenage hormones fabricating a skewed perception of confident elegance, but it didn't matter. That woman was more often than not the sole reason I'd turn up to school some days and that's how I choose to remember her.
~~
Wow, that dream was something else.
It took some serious willpower -
and recalling that scene of Grandad's scrotum hanging out of his shorts
- to calm down enough where I could walk without being branded a sex pest. I've always had a pretty vivid imagination, but that thing with Wendy just now was something else; and what was with that smile as she left? Surely she couldn't have known what I'd been thinking about? Was it that obvious?
I pause for a moment in reflection, trying to rationalise the situation.
Eh, it's probably not terrible if she does know... I mean, she's smoking hot after all, and there was no indication that she was upset about it.
After a pit stop in the bathrooms and a splash of cold water on my face, I finally head towards room four.
The staff corridor leads into a large, high ceiling room. It's designated as a public waiting area for check-ins and stuff, with a coffee and snack machine to the side. Normally I'd walk straight through, towards the freshly renovated rooms, but today my destination is the temporary pedestrian barrier on the left. I use my best contortionist skills to get past -
meaning: I awkwardly climb over the fucking thing like a new-born giraffe
- then precariously negotiate the clusterfuck of construction materials littered through the original wing of the day Spa.
This side of the facility is a real mess nowadays. I recall back to when I started working here, I'd felt an instant fondness for the roman themed decor of the place. It was just aesthetically pleasing, like someone had specifically designed it that way. I remember having the impression that if it weren't for Health and Safety laws, the staff would've been walking around barefoot in loin cloths and tunics or something.
I finally arrive at the entrance to room four. It's literally stacked floor to ceiling with linens and consumables. There's this really odd atmosphere where sound seems to get sucked away. Supposedly, the guy who owns this joint had shipped in a container full of stuff last year as a tax write-off.
Assuming she's in the back somewhere, I call out to Wendy, but there's no answer. Figuring she's probably gone to the bathroom or something, I haphazardly duck and weave my way inside, ready to formulate a plan for tackling the monstrous task ahead of us. Rather than stacking everything methodically in order to easily access it later, the large mosaic floor space is littered with random towers of linen, robes and other junk. It's such a fucking mess.
I spend a couple of minutes pondering the best course of action - definitely not procrastinating - when Wendy appears from behind a wall of towels.
"Heya" a chirp in her voice.
It sounds oddly distant despite how close she is, compliments of the weird sound absorption.
"Hey" I respond vaguely, still somewhat caught up in thought.
"I'd been hoping to focus on the bulkier stuff today, seeing as there's two of us. But it seems they've added some stuff since I was last here... What a fucking mess."
"I know, it's a bit of a disaster" she giggles, looking around in awe.
"From memory, there should be a flat trolley that we can use in that back corner somewhere, so I guess we start clearing towards that."
"Okie dokie" It's cute the way she says this.
We commence digging our way through the myriad of unopened articles, like dumpster-diving archaeologists searching for trinkets of worth. Our joint effort feels slow and arduous but after a while there's noticeable progress in that, small sections of flooring are now visible.
I attempt to make light of the dull work by humouring Wendy, putting on my best (terrible) croc hunter impersonation.
"We're deep in the beasts 'nitural hibitet', on the hunt for a rare and dangerous 'spicimin'." Success, she's laughing.
"According to local 'ligend', an elite team of the world's greatest 'advinturers' stumbled into this remote and isolated landscape and disappeared, never to be heard from again" "Oooh'' she's playing along now.
"There's only one creature I know of that could be responsible for such a 'tirrible' event. They call it," pause for dramatic effect.
"Vampirus Glorius!" She cracks up now and I can't help but laugh with her.
After a few moments, her laughter suddenly turns to a high pitched squeal, then silence.
I turn back to where she'd just been standing only to see legs poking out the bottom of a toppled tower of packaged towels.
"Fuck!" I dart back and frantically start scooping armfuls of the plastic parcels off of the pile, throwing them haphazardly out of the way.
"WENDY!?" no answer.
I launch a few more armfuls, at last uncovering her face. Her eyes are closed but she's smiling at least.
"Fuck me, are you ok?" My voice is more shrill than usual and she seems to pick up on it.
"Aww, did you think the Gloria thing got me" giggling again.
"No!" I stammer indignantly, trying but failing to sound more casual.
"Aww, poor darling, you were scared for me, that's so sweet" I grab a sealed towel packet and place it back over her face - more giggling, only muffled.
Removing the packet once more, "You ok or what?"
"Yeah... It's not that heavy, just scared me that's all"
I extend a hand to pull her free from the linen man trap and yank her upright. However, she's much lighter than I anticipated and the momentum causes her to stumble face first into my chest. This catches me off guard and I stagger back, tripping on something in the process before falling back, pulling her down with me.
