Monday, May 4, 2009

Paradise Takes a Tragic Turn

MOTEL HISTORY: CHAPTER TWO

Life at the motel was peaceful. Guests continued to keep occupancy nearly full, while the Johnsons pursued their personal interests. Mr. Johnson continued to acquire new and unusual cars, including a replica of the famous "Munster Mobile". He often entered his cars in local shows, and occasionally won. He was also active in Alcoholics Anonymous, having been recovered for some time, and often sponsored members, even bringing a few in, to find peace and tranquility. Mrs. Johnson was a bit more eccentric. She had a penchant for dressing in black gowns, and having an overall "Morticia" look to her, complete with long, black hair. As a younger woman, she studied oriental belly dancing, and later hired herself out for parties. She even gave lessons. She collected cat figurines, and for some reason, also collected life size dolls, which were made in the image of-HERSELF. Current members of the local police force, who remember her, get very quiet, shake their heads, and usually say "She was an odd one..."

For all their idiosyncrasies, the Johnsons ran a tight ship at the old motel, and loved each other very much.



One evening, while celebrating their wedding anniversary, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson ordered in some Chinese food from their favorite local place. Unbeknownst to them, the restaurant had recently changed some of its cooking methods. One of these changes included a switch to peanut oil, to which Mrs. Johnson was severely allergic. The first thing Mrs. Johnson bit into was her favorite, an egg roll. Shortly after swallowing the first mouthful, her throat began to swell, and her breathing became labored. Mr. Johnson quickly called for an ambulance, already familiar with, and recognizing, his wife's symptoms of allergic reaction. Her situation quickly deteriorated as the ambulance took an inordinately long time to arrive. By the time the paramedics reached her, she was unconscious.

Mrs. Johnson lapsed into a coma from which she sadly would never recover.


After a lengthy hospital stay, she was transferred to a long term facility. Mr. Johnson did his best to continue running the motel, but needed to divide his time between that and visiting his comatose w
ife. He decided to hire on some additional motel staff to keep an eye on things while he visited his beloved. He chose Al and Wendy, a lovely couple who, between the two of them, almost had a full set of teeth. Al and Wendy took a room at the motel, and effectively became the managers. Al handled most of the maintenance duties, while Wendy watched the office. They brought in plenty of guests, with the main requirement being a pulse.
The quality of the motel clientele began to diminish.


After roughly a year of this arrangement, Mr. Johnson decided he could no longer keep up the back an
d forth traveling between the nursing facility and the motel. He decided that he could best care for his wife himself, and arranged to have her transferred permanently back to the motel. He set up their bedroom as a pseudo hospital room, complete with I.V.s and a hospital bed. He was convinced his wife would awaken one day, and he wanted that to happen at home.

Thus began a short, but macabre period at the old motel.

Once Mrs. Johnson was moved in, Mr. Johnson determined that a return to the old routine would be
best for her. To keep things "normal", he would often bring her outside and set her (and her wheelchair) on the grass outside the main office. Occasionally, he would comb her long hair, and tend to her while passersby and guests would observe. Often, they could see the couple sitting side by side on the lawn; he talking to her, and she...not talking.

And so this routine continued.

The toothless couple effectively ran the motel, and Mr. Johnson tended to his beloved wife. During this time, there was a basic lack of upkeep, both structurally and cosmetically, at the motel. It also began to achieve a not so glorious reputation around town. The motel became known as THE place to purchase a variety of "under the counter" prescriptions, from the smoking kind, to the snorting kind, to the sticking in your arm with a needle kind. It began attracting less than savory tenants, and as a result, many would-be, decent travelers began to seek lodging elsewhere.


One evening, while driving to an AA meeting, Mr. Johnson suffered a massive heart attack, and died instantly.


And the worst days of the motel were yet to be seen....