Maintenance

Luxuriate in a paradise built by the people, for the people, of the people.

Kaiko arrived for work at 5am, just like he had for the last few years. It was his job to tidy up the poolside and outdoor areas before the guests woke up at the Magnolia Resort on Kauai, and he relished the chance to listen to the ocean in the peace of early morning. The sea birds were just waking as well, their shrill cries coiling over the hiss and crush of the surf, the creak and sway of the palms, such familiar sounds that he hardly noticed them. The day was going to be somewhat chilly, overcast, so he wore a sweater along with the rest of his gear, and hauled out his cart.

The wheels clattered on the smooth marble as he started at the far end of the veranda, pulling out broad broom to start push the little bits of trash - colorful drink umbrellas, bottle caps, etc - into a pile with the beach sand that had blown in. Every once in a while he’d see a guest out for a walk or with a cup of tea, and he’d smile and wish them a good day. The guests at this resort, despite almost always being obviously wealthy, were still kind to him. He’d heard stories about the janitorial staff being treated wretchedly at other places, and he was thankful once again that he’d landed such a nice gig.

With the main portions of the outside areas swept and mopped, Kaiko moved his cart inside to the work room to dump out the water and toss the garbage bag out. There was a note left by his manager asking him to take a quick look at the area of the resort under construction and just tidy that up if it was needed. Kaiko sighed and rolled his shoulders, then refilled his bucket and put a new liner in the trash bin and pushed his cart back out. The area under construction was the wing of the resort farthest away from the main entrance, and semi-opaque white plastic tarps were taped down around several of the outdoor areas. The wheels of his cart clacked and clattered within the plasticed areas loudly, and he felt caged in by all the lazily flapping tarps. In here he couldn’t hear the ocean as easily, or the birds. It just felt cramped and wrong.

The floor, however, was obviously neglected. The work crew were doing a good job on refinishing the marble, but they left behind bits and pieces of stone and fixtures, dust, and of course the sand from the beach blew in under the tarps. Kaiko pulled out his broom and got to work, wrinkling his nose as he shoved at the piles of dust and rubble. The dirt on the floors went inside as well, the doors having been secured open all night. It was obnoxious in the extreme - why were they risking the finish of the interior by being so careless? His manager was going to hear about this for sure.

Kaiko remained at the threshold for a little while, taking a drink from his water bottle and leaning on his broom. Should be bother with the interior? Would anyone notice? He was already being asked to work later than he typically did - by this point he was expected to be helping out with the laundry, and the aunties down in the basement were probably wondering where he was. Surely that was more important than this. The dark lobby past the door was foreboding, the glossy surfaces of the floor and desk powdered with dust, with slivers of light piercing in through the closed shutters. It was like something was being hidden there.

But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

He sucked in a breath through his nose and stuffed his water bottle into his cart, taking up his broom with the determination that he’d make a quick job of it and get down to the laundry aunties. The swish and click clack of his broom sounded loud in the dark and empty lobby, but there was no breeze in here. The piles he pushed together stayed put; there was no need to chase after them after a gentle gust sent everything flying. In about twenty minutes he had everything swept, the piles tossed in his garbage bin, and he walked back to his cart to stow his broom. In the quiet he heard, just then, an odd sound. It wasn’t the wind, it wasn’t some sound from outside. It was coming from the lobby, just behind the reception desk.

Kaiko felt a hot flush cross his cheeks. Was someone in here this whole time?! He glanced at the mop, then back at the reception desk. As he listened, it sounded like a voice, like someone sniffling. His fear turned to great annoyance. Was a junky in here, camping out? “Hey now, come on out. This isn’t the place for you to squat, buddy,” Kaiko announced, trying to make his voice sound as deep and intimidating as possible. But the sniffling continued, and his annoyance cooled into dread as he wondered if the squatter wasn’t an addict, but a little lots child. “Hey… hey now…” he said, walking towards the reception desk. “I didn’t mean it. Shhh…”

But when he got to the desk he didn’t see anyone behind it. He checked the side rooms, but they were empty. He checked all around the lobby in fact, just in case the acoustics were tricking his ear, but he couldn’t find anyone. The sniffling continued, still by the reception desk, and Kaiko scratched his head. Was someone playing a trick on him? Did his manager set up some little speaker to freak him out? Was he watching him on the security cams? That’d be bullshit, and his manager wasn’t really one to pull a stunt like that. In fact he’d been nothing but nice.

At this point the laundry aunties were probably making ready to go on an expedition to find him and make sure he was okay (and pinch his ear for having made them worry), so Kaiko sighed and quickly got out the mop to finish up the lobby. Whatever, screw that noise. His mind was probably playing tricks on him anyway, and he was grumpy and anxious as all get out. He was just putting the mop away, leaning into the cart to start pushing it, when he heard a soft, raspy voice beg, “Please… help…”

Every single hair on the back of Kaiko’s neck stood on end, and he froze stiff by his cart. The plastic tarps flapped sharply with a sudden breeze, and he felt a cold dread trickle down his entire body. His thread pulse drummed in his ears and he felt his mouth dry up entirely, but the thought of taking a drink of water to quench it was nauseating.

“Help… usss…”

Kaiko swallowed and knew that he should have radioed into security. He thought about it, even going so far as looking at the walkie talkie attached to his cart.

“Pleassssse….”

But instead he walked slowly behind the reception desk and crouched down. “Hello? I can’t see you.”

“Please…” the voice gasped, and Kaiko got on his hands and knees, zeroing in on the source. It seemed to be coming from under the desk, but if there was someone hiding under there he’d see them. The wall that separated the front of the desk from the lobby was only eight inches in width, filled with brick and covered in marble. There’s no way someone could have crawled in.

He pulled out his flashlight and flicked it on, but it didn’t switch on right away. He slapped the flashlight into his palm a few times, feeling sweat drip down his forehead and down his neck, when finally the light beam ignited and lit up the underside of the desk.

And there, just in front of him, was a break in the marble fronting of the wall, revealing the bricks inside. They were a mottled gray and fleshy purple, wrinkled and desiccated like dried meat. In the middle of each brick, distorted and stretched, were pairs of clouded eyes that opened slowly, creaking with the movement, like living things had been compressed into a block and yet somehow remained alive. A small mouth on one of the bricks opened, barely a slit between the wrinkles, and it wheezed, “Help us, please!” the lips pulling back to show tiny, needle teeth. More moaning voices were muffled from behind the marble covering, and all around the lobby there were moans lifting up into the still air, all muffled by stone, everywhere save for the broken area beneath the desk.

Kaiko was halfway across the resort, running as fast as he could to the security desk. Guests looked at him strangely, though to be fair he was sweating and wide eyed with terror. The guys behind the desk were more amused than anything and promised that they’d go check it out. The laundry aunties of course pinched his ear for making them worry, but seeing how distraught he was they set him up in the corner with a hot cup of tea and a blanket. He didn’t want to talk about it and was shaking like a leaf, thinking about the horrible face he saw behind the marble. He didn’t understand what it meant or how that was even possible.

Later that day, Kaiko was packing up to go home. He’d been sick all day with stress, and he was glad to finally get out of there. But he remembered that he hadn’t taken a picture of what he’d seen. No one would ever believe him without proof. So with phone in hand, he quietly walked back to the quiet construction site and slipped into the dark lobby. He listened but could only hear the muted waves and seagulls and the sharp flap of the plastic tarps. He couldn’t hear the sniffling or any voices. Summoning his courage, he crouched behind the reception desk and turned on his flashlight. The break in the marble fronting was repaired, not a blemish on it. There was no trace of what he’d seen behind it, but as his flashlight dipped, he caught sight of something shiny on the floor. It was a few teeth, tiny, needle-like things, broken off with little streaks of blood.

 

But the voice, the voice was gone.