Room 702 (5 page)

Having made his choice to end his life, before leaving his apartment, Doug prepared detailed instructions so there would be minimal effort required for his parents.
 
Not that they would particularly care, after all, in the past five years, they’ve forgotten his birthday three times.
 
In darker times, he often wonders what set of circumstances came together to create his life.
 
As far as he can tell, since leaving for college, his parents have more or less forgotten about his existence.
 
It’s as if all the effort they made during his childhood was their total allotment for child caring for his entire lifetime.

Sitting down on the couch, he removes his shoes and thinks about his only sibling.
 
He has an older brother who actually lives in town, Clint, and they see each other almost never – mostly from the reluctance on Doug’s part.
 
Other than the two weeks he crashed with his sibling upon first moving to Los Angeles, there is little to no communication.
 
Doug realizes this fact is mainly because of his own inaction.
 
Clint and his partner, Tom, have made plenty of effort to get together with him, but in the past few years, Doug hasn’t felt like returning the attempts to maintain the relationship.

Not wanting to cause any further pain to his family, Doug paid off all of his debts and even sold his car the previous month.

Although he has no debt, he isn’t leaving much money behind either.
 
What little he does have, he’s instructed to leave to charitable causes.
 
He doesn’t want a funeral or the expense of being buried.
 
He would like to be cremated and does not particularly care where his remains end up.
 

In his apartment, he’s sold or given away almost everything.

Two weeks ago, he handed in his notice at his job.
 

 
Doug Lewis is as ready as he’ll ever be.

 
The decision to end his life in a hotel is a recent choice.
 
Although Doug has convinced himself he does not have much to live for, he does not want his last moment of consciousness to be in his sad apartment in Van Nuys.
 
Additionally, although there might be a small level of irony in his decision, there’s something comforting about the hotel, about knowing others are close by.
 
 
Relaxing on the couch, Doug surveys the space and feels he’s made the correct decision in coming to the Winchester.
 
Looking at the hotel information in front of him, he decides to splurge and order something decadent from room service.
 
Although the end result of eating a rich meal will most likely not be pleasant to whoever finds him, he has brought a plastic tarp for this purpose.
Flipping through the pages of delicious appetizers and main courses, the former cell phone salesman decides on a steak (medium rare), sweet potato French fries and a decadent piece of strawberry cheesecake.
 
After placing the order, he goes to his bag to double check everything is ready for later.
 
Through a combination of legal and illegal channels, Doug obtained the correct mixture of drugs to first put him to sleep and then to stop his heart.
 
In case the drugs do not take their desired effect, he has a plastic bag to place over his head.
 
He believes he will not be in pain, and that his passing will be simple.

Unusually warm for this time of year, Doug decides to open the sliding glass door.
 
Other than the sounds of the street below, he does not turn on music or the television.
 
Satisfied with the ambiance, he pulls out a typed letter explaining who he is and his wishes.

With nothing else to do, he retrieves a photograph he put into his luggage as an afterthought.

The edges are frayed.
 
The surface is sticky and one corner is missing.
 
The photo reveals two people, deep in conversation – they are young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen and from their clothes and hairstyle, an outsider would probably place the picture at some point during the nineties.
 
Doug flips over the image, looks at the fading colors and thinks ‘this was the last time in my life I was really happy.’
 
In that moment, a discarded picture left unused by the yearbook staff, they could’ve been talking about anything.

Her name was Kate.
 
They were high school sweethearts.
 
With young Kate Hannady, everything seemed possible.
 
Where was she now?
 
Would she mourn his loss?
 
Doug hasn’t been much for social media or keeping in touch with people, and has no way of knowing if she had stayed in their hometown or had moved on.
 
Was she married?
 
Did she have children?
 
Did she still play clarinet?
 
Had she finished school and become a graphic designer like she’d always wanted to be?

 
He thought of conversations they’d had.
 
Promises they had made.
 
Places they had dreamed of seeing.
 
While he had been able to leave the small Tennessee town where they grew up, he wasn’t sure she had been able to do the same.

Why is he thinking of her now?

In these last hours of his life, why does Kate Hannady matter?

He is almost completely certain she would have forgotten his name by now, or that they had ever been together.
 
Even if those months had been magical to him so many years ago, would they have been the same for her?

A knock on the door alerts Doug to the fact his food has arrived.
 
The uniformed attendant wheels in the food and asks, “Is there any particular place you would like me to set this up?”

“It’s no trouble, I can serve myself.”

“If that will be all then, would you mind signing for the food?”

Doug takes the offered receipt and then reaches in his pocket and pulls out a twenty dollar bill, handing the money across and says, “Thank you.”

Looking at the currency, the young man smiles and says, “Thank you very much, sir.”

The attendant walks out of the room and before closing the door says, “Have a nice evening, sir.”

“Thanks,” Doug says to the back of the door.

He sits in the empty room again.
 
Will the guy who brought him his food be the last person he interacts with in his life?
 
Too hungry to be bothered with the significance of his esoteric question, Doug turns to the tray.
 
This is perhaps, the second time in his life he’s ordered food service, and the splurge feels nice.
 
Placing the white cloth napkin on his lap, Doug tucks into the food with gusto, rather surprised at his appetite.
 
Deciding the Winchester will get the money from him, no matter what, he pairs the meal with some wine from the mini bar.
 
As far as last meals go, this one is heavenly, and, licking his spoon after finishing the very last of his cheesecake, Doug feels sated.

His eyes dart to the bag on the table.

Still not quite ready to go through with ending his life, Doug goes into the bathroom and luxuriates under the spray of the hot shower.
 

Stepping out, drying off, he wonders if he should feel any different.
 
With water dripping off him, he waits to see if some rational part of him will stop or remind him there’s something worth living for.
 
Should he be sad?
 
Should he feel any emotion at all?
 
Tucking the towel around his waist, he walks into the room and begins to pull out the plastic sheet from his luggage.
 

A trilling sound sends his pulse racing.

With shaking hands, Doug realizes his cell phone is ringing.
 
He has very few friends, and those he did interact with on a daily basis have no reason to be concerned with his wellbeing.
 
The call cannot be his parents – he called them yesterday with the pretence of something else, but mostly to say goodbye.
 
He hopes it’s not his brother.
 
Having also called Clint yesterday, Doug learned later this summer his older brother and Tony, his long time partner, would be getting married.
 
Not being able to attend his brother’s upcoming nuptials is perhaps Doug’s only regret in committing suicide.

Who, then, is calling?

Placing the plastic sheet aside, Doug looks at the number and recognizes the prefix is not one of the many Los Angeles area codes.

He hesitates, trying to rationalize who could be on the other end of the phone and if the effort is worth picking up.
 
After all, his interaction with the room service waiter was as pleasant an interaction that one could ask for.
 
What if the person on the line is a telemarketer?
 
Does Doug want to risk his last conversation discussing extending his line of credit for a card he will no longer have use for?
 

Still, if not a local number, who could it be?
 
Curiosity finally gets the better of him and he opens the phone and answers with a tentative, “Hello?”

“Is this Doug Lewis?”

“Yes, who’s calling?”

“I’m not sure if you remember me – this is Kate, Kate Hannady.”

He is quiet a moment and looks at the photograph on the bed.
 

“Doug?”

Answering hoarsely, he responds, “Yes, I’m still here.”

 
With his positive response, she launches ahead, “I know this must seem completely random, but I ran into your parents awhile back and we got to talking and they gave me your number.
 
I hope it’s not a big deal.”

 
His throat still tight, he answers, “They didn’t mention it.”

 
“Oh, I’m not calling at a bad time, am I?
 
I can call you back later.”

 
“No…
 
I was just…
 
It’s okay.”

 
“Great!”
 

 
He’s glad to hear her cheerful manner hasn’t dimmed over the years.
 
He finds himself grateful that at least one of them has had a good life.
 
She deserves the best.
 
Realizing he needs to say something, he forces a happier tone and says, “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

 
“Well, when I was talking to your parents they mentioned you moved to Los Angeles, is that true?”

“A few years ago, why?”

“Remember we said we were going to visit the Hollywood sign?”

He remembers the night well.
 
It was the first time he had sex.
 
They had talked all night and near dawn lost their virginities.
 
He clears his throat and answers, “I remember.”

“Have you seen it yet?
 
I mean, duh, I’m sure you’ve driven by it a million times already, but I was hoping you hadn’t actually visited it yet.”

Doug thinks to when he first moved to L.A.
 
Although he’s seen the sign from a distance and subconsciously thinks of her every time he passes it, he has not specifically been to the site.
 
Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why are you asking?”

“I’m going to be in town!”

Hearing her excitement startles him.
 
He asks, “When?
 
Why?”

“Actually, this weekend.
 
I’m flying in early for a convention.”

“And you thought to call me?
 
It’s been a long time.”

“I know, but since I knew you were there and the only person in town I would know and we made that promise…”

“You really want to go see the sign?”

“And you, of course.
 
How have you been?”

He holds his breath.
 
How can he answer?
 
What can he say?
 
Instead Kate rushes ahead and says, “Well, you can tell me all about the last fifteen years when I see you this weekend.”

“S-sure.”

“Will you be available on this number?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent – my plane gets in Saturday afternoon.
 
I’ll text you when I land and we can figure things out from there.”
 
She pauses, then asks, “You didn’t have any plans, did you?
 
Sorry, I didn’t even ask.
 
I’m kind of being rude today, aren’t I?”

Whether or not the universe is trying to send him a message, Doug decides to listen.
 
The thought of Kate is enough to keep him curious for the next week.
 
Freed from his job, Doug can do whatever he cares to.
 
“Not at all, in fact, I’m really glad you called.
 
And no, I’m not up to anything special.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.
 
Talk to you soon!”

“Yes, see you on Saturday.”

He hangs up the phone and sits down heavily on the bed.
 
His hand hovers over the plastic sheet and he puts the material back into the bag, forcefully pulling the zipper closed.
 
What he had been so determined to do now feels like the wrong choice.
 
Kate’s visit isn’t so much a reason for living, as a reason to stay interested in life.
 
If he chooses to, he can book this room again for a week from today.
 
The room will still be here.
 
He will still have the ability to end his life.

Lying back on the bed, Doug suddenly feels extremely exhausted.
 
Barely able to stay awake, he closes his eyes and thinks to rest for just a moment.