Delphi

Friday afternoon

I skip through the channels. It’s four in total. Despite the language barrier I have almost figured it out. One channel shows the news, the other one reruns of old US-soaps of the 70s, a shopping channel and the last one is a mystery. Sometimes there is a test screen. Other times there are variety shows.

The artificial leather of the couch is cracked and I try to shift my weight, so I don’t move the additional blanket the owner gave me. At least I think it’s the owner of the hotel. This one I wasn’t able to figure out. The language barrier is too high in this case.

My girlfriend sits at the table next to the old lady, who might be the owner’s wife. They are chatting. I don’t know in what language. My girlfriend doesn’t speak any foreign languages. She doesn’t glance my way, while my eyes don’t even see the TV screen anymore.

The rain gets heavier and I can’t suppress the sigh. My girlfriend’s head whips around. I manage a smile. She frowns, says something to the old lady and comes over.

“You think you’re up for a hike tomorrow?”

I stare at her, while she positions herself next to me on the couch.

“Maybe. I can’t really tell.”

I see her knuckles getting white, while her hands are wrapped around her calf.

“I will take some pain killers and bandage it. It should be fine.”

The knuckles get rosier again.

“What were you talking about?”

“Oh, about the season. And guests. And hospitality.”

“Ah. Are there any other guests?”

I squirm under her gaze.

It wasn’t a stupid question.

“No, just us. That’s why she’s so happy.”

“Oh, she is?”

“Yeah, I offered that we could stay a bit longer. We can help around the hotel.”

What?

“Like, we don’t have to go back home immediately. It’s a trade. We help with repairs and get to stay here for free.”

We have a flight back on Sunday. I have to go back to work.

“Delph is really lovely. She says we would fit in here perfectly well.”

“Delphi.”

I manage with a forced smile. My girlfriend smiles back at me. There are wrinkles at the corner of her eyes.

Friday morning

The taste in my mouth wakes me up. I didn’t know that was possible. I have been woken up by my own snoring and farting, even just breathing. Now I’m awake, but my eyelids don’t want to obey. I smack my tongue a few times.

Shouldn’t have eaten that egg sandwich on the plane.

My girlfriend’s shriek is more effective than any alarm. My eyes fly open. I tumble out of bed.

Ah! Cold!

I rush toward the bathroom.

“Ah!”

I put too much weight on my foot. I repeat yesterday’s dance. Fortunately, there are no potholes in the room. Instead, I bang my shoulder on the wall. By the time I arrive at the bathroom, my soles are covered in dust and sand.

The moment I place my hand on the handle, the door is jerked open. I struggle to keep my balance.

“Ah, you are awake.”

Even if she is one head shorter than me, I feel like she is looking down. I manage a smile. My hands want to stretch out and check that she is ok. But there are wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. She has her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her hair is still soapy. Water is dripping down her legs.

“Are you …?”

“If you are awake, check if breakfast is served. You booked it, right?”

Thursday night

The white car is only a faded shape in the darkness. My gaze shifts to the edge between the forest and the sky. A fine dark grey line separates the top of the trees with the vast black blanket. I try to find the moon or at least some stars.

A loud snore makes me flinch. I don’t turn around, but close the heavy curtains. Slowly, the room descends into almost complete darkness. Only the subdued glow emergency exit light reaches my eyes from the other side of the room. It flickers or maybe I blinked. emergency lights shouldn’t flicker.

For a few more snores I stare at the curtain. My fingers are clenching the velvety fabric. I close my eyes.

It’s a weekend.

Thursday evening

„Hotel Delph?“

„Delphi! Don’t be so nitpicky.”

My girlfriend looks up at the blue and white letters. Their faded glow barely fights the unsetting dusk. Her lips are stretched, but there are no wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. I frown and look at her hand. Her fingers are wrapped around the handle of the red suitcase. The white knuckles dominate my view.

“Sorry. Sorry. You know how I am.”

Better not say anything about the paint.

But my focus shifts slightly to the former white washed building. The cracks are noticeable even in this light.

In response I only get a sigh. I turn my head, but she doesn’t look at me. Instead, I hear the double beeping sound. The orange lights of the car being locked reflect against the hotel entrance. She starts moving. The trolley suitcase bounces and sways, but she soldiers on. There is no hesitation in her step. She doesn’t look back.

I sling my backpack over my left shoulder and follow her. While she climbs the steps to the entrance, I look back at the parking space. Our lonely small white Nissan Micra is slowly swallowed by the unsetting darkness. It feels like abandoning a puppy at the side of a road. An unknown bird welcomes dusk with a high-pitched call.

I shiver. I turn around. I take one step. I stumble forward. The pothole holds my shoe. Pain shoots up my ankle. I sway. I struggle. For a short moment, I’m my girlfriend’s suitcase. But there’s no guiding hand. Nobody is pulling me along. At the bottom of the first step, I’m not picked up. Instead, my knee bangs into the tiled edge. My hands prevent my forehead from following suit. A groan escapes my throat.

My girlfriend turns around at the sound of debris hitting the tiles.

“What on earth are you doing?”

My palms sting. My right knee throbs. I grind my teeth, pushing myself up. The backpack is dangling in front of me. I push it back several times. With each push, it bounces back with more momentum.

“Lea.”

“What?!”

I dust my pants, leaving faint red streaks on the fabric. On my right knee, I can feel my skin.

“Cursed freaking shit!”

“Lea!”

My head snaps up. My girlfriend is on eye level now. The red suitcase towers on top of the landing. She has abandoned it for me.

“What?”

“Language.”

“I’m not allowed to curse?! Even now?”

The squelching sound of my left shoe puts another curse on my lips. She stares at me. Wrinkles at the corner of her eyes appear. The curse dies on my lips. Without another comment she turns around and climbs the stairs again.

I follow with a limp. My shoe leaves a muddy trail on the white broken tiles. I position myself next to my girlfriend. Her finger hovers over the bell.

Press it! Let’s get this over with.

She turns half-way toward me. There is a smile on her lips. I can see the dimples but the area around her eyes is smooth.

“Let’s make it a nice holiday, okay?”