American Eldritch, Chapter 6

I couldn’t get comfortable in the bath with the door behind me, and turning around in the tub proved to be worse for different reasons, as the tub was sloped and had a drain on the other side that felt unpleasant on my rear. Eventually, I just got out and dried myself off.

It took longer than I’d like to admit to figure out that the robe was supposed to be tied closed. It was the first time I’d ever worn one, and I spent a bit looking for buttons or toggles before I found the rope, or whatever the proper name for the belt of the robe was. I tied it off and stepped into the slippers before cracking the door open.

Jeffrey was waiting out in the hall, hands clasped behind him and back ramrod straight. “Hello, sir. I hope you enjoyed your bath?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said. “Was alright.”

The guy smiled. “I’m happy to hear it.” He gestured down the hall. “Miss Mills suggested you might want to avail yourself of our barber.”

I ran a hand through my two weeks of beard. “Never had someone else shave me, before. Sure, why not.” I opened the door fully and stepped out.

The barber was in a room down the hall and two doors down. He had a round belly and a ruddy face, heavily lined around the mouth and eyes, suggesting he laughed a lot. He was hairless except for his eyebrows and a mustache so thick I could barely see his bottom lip.

Jeffrey led me into the small room that was dominated by the sole barber chair, then stepped aside and waved me forward. As I stepped into the room, the barber gave a nod of his head that suggested a bow. “Good afternoon,” he said. “My name is Ulysses Brant and I’ll be taking care of you for the next little bit.”

“Patton West,” I said, offering my hand. Ulysses took it and gave it a firm pump, then ushered me to the chair. Jeffrey chose that moment to step out, closing the door behind him.

“What will we be doing today?” Ulysses asked, pulling out a bib that was as big as a cloak and securing it around my neck.

“A shave and a haircut,” I said. “You can take the entire beard, but I’d like to leave it up to your experience what to do with my hair. I usually shave my head every three months so, you can imagine I am a little out of my depth here.”

“Let’s see what we can do to make sure you turn the heads of all the young women in town, eh?” Ulysses said jovially as he began to prepare some foam in a mug.

“I’ll settle for not having my face itch and my hair not gettin’ in my eyes.”

Ulysses began to pat my face with his hands, then added some liquid from a bottle from the cart next to the chair to his hands and began to massage my beard. He produced a comb and worked it through a few times, after which he applied the foam.

“I take it you just got to town?” He asked as he finished foaming my face and began to prepare the razor.

“Yeah, stopping for a night or two before we continue out east.”

Ulysses engaged me in conversation while he worked on me. When it became apparent that I wasn’t willing to talk about myself much, he easily took control of the conversation and began to tell me funny stories about his youth, or his two children, Bret and Tilly. Bret was a troublemaker but was dependable where it mattered, while Tilly was giving him daily heart attacks because she had gotten it in her head to be an adventurer, and kept sneaking out of town to do just that.

“She keeps bringing home lizards,” Ulysses said in a tone I’d use to describe a murder scene while putting the finishing touches on my hair. “Her mother is at her wit's end!”

I was holding back a grin. The jolly barber had done a lot to lift my mood. “Better figure out a new hobby for her before she moves up to more challenging game,” I said.

“Heaven forbid,” Ulysses said with a glance upward. “With my luck a field moose will follow her home and I’ll have to figure out how to get rid of it without being trampled.”

Ulysses produced a hot towel and gave me a final wipe-down before lifting a large hand mirror. “How did I do?”

I almost didn’t recognize the man in the mirror. I’d made it a habit to keep my beard as thick as I could ever since it started as a few patches on my chin, in an effort to look older. The man looking back at me was young, yes, but you could see the hard life he’d lived in his gaunt cheeks and the lines already setting in his brow and around his eyes. Despite this, his strong jaw and prominent cheekbones went well with his piercing gray, almost silver eyes. Ulysses had cut my hair close to the scalp on the sides and styled the top with pomade. I very much liked the way I looked.

“Well, if I ever roll through these parts again, I’d say you have a repeat customer,” I said with a smile.

Ulysses beamed and went at my neck with a brush, finishing his ministrations by lifting the tarp/bib with a flourish. I got out of the chair, running a hand over my clean jaw. “How much do I owe you?” I asked. I was then I realized I had left my change in my pants.

Ulysses instantly waved me off. “Miss Mills is covering your expenses. I’ve been instructed to take you to her room once we’re done here.”

I set aside the worry over my money and gestured for the door. “After you.”

I followed the barber through the main lobby, feeling the peculiar anxiety of walking through a public space in nothing but a bathrobe. But no one paid me any attention as I followed Ulysses up the stairs. We passed several rooms before turning down a long hallway that only had two doors on either side about midway down. Ulysses stopped in front of the door on the left and rapped it with his knuckles three times.

“Yes?” I heard Layla’s voice from within.

“I have brought the young man as instructed,” Ulysses said, his demeanor having changed to be much more professional.

“Oh, wonderful,” she said. “Just a moment.”

I heard some movement from within. The door opened, revealing the uniformed woman from earlier who stepped back and waved me inside. I stuck my hand out to Ulysses. “Thanks for makin’ me look sharp,” I said.

Ulysses took my hand with a wide smile. “My pleasure,” he said while shaking my hand vigorously. “You take care.”

“Back atcha,” I replied, ducking into the room.

The room I entered was perhaps the nicest I’ve ever seen. It was also huge. The room was decorated in dark woods and red carpet, with brass fixtures that made the other colors stand out. It was set up to resemble a family room with a long couch, a loveseat, and a small stove for what I assumed was to prepare tea or coffee. Aside from that, there was so much empty space. Why have a room this big in a hotel?

Layla came in, and I shot my eyes to the ceiling as I realized she was in her underthings. “Oh, you cleaned up marvelously,” she said. “This’ll work better than I hoped. Mable, could you fetch the tailor?”

I felt the woman in uniform—Mable—give a small bow and leave the room, closing the door behind her.

Layla came over and gave me a look-over. “Something interesting up there?” A floral scent was wafting off her.

My face was heating up. “You’re, uh, in a state of undress.”

She snorted—actually snorted, as she laughed suddenly. “Arguable. It’s just a corset and shift. I’m barely showing more skin than I was on the road. But if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll throw on a robe.”

“Thank you,” I said, which elicited another laugh.

When she reentered the room, she was wearing a robe similar to mine. “Better?” She asked.

“Sorry,” I said. “I—I’m not—“

She shook her head and waved away whatever I was about to say. “I keep forgetting how young you are,” she paused long enough to change the subject. “You’re probably anxious to get to planning.”

“To be honest, I got swept up in all this fanciness,” I said with a look around and feeling my jaw. “I’ve never been to a barber before.”

A look of pity flashed through her eyes before she hid it. “Well, it isn’t without purpose. What we’re doing here is creating your disguise.”

I felt my eyebrows climb. “What? Why? What Disguise?”

She gestured to the side, where I discovered my clothing and new hat in two neat piles on a table against the wall. “I assume all of your clothing is of that quality?”

The way she said it made my face heat with shame. “Yes.”

“I’m not condemning or judging,” she said. “Just showing you my thoughts. We’re going to dress you up nice, so even if someone from your gang spots you, they won’t be able to recognize you. The trick will be to strike the balance between nice, but not so nice they take you as a mark.”

As she talked she walked over to the clothing and put the hat and vest aside. “I think we’ll keep the vest. It’s good quality and will go with most outfits. And we’ll of course keep the hat.”

Next, she lifted my obsidian dagger, and I had the good grace to grimace. She huffed a laugh. “It’s fine,” she said. “I think we’re past the point of plotting against each other. Aren’t we?” She put stress on the question.

“Yes ma’am,” I said with a nod.

She tucked the dagger back into its hidden sheath, then leaned back against the table with her arms crossed. “After some initial preparation here, we’ll head to Sheer Creek. We’ll need to stay incognito for as long as it takes to find where they are keeping your sister. I have friends among the indegen who are good at finding missing persons, so I don’t expect it to take too long. The main wrinkle I want to avoid is you being spotted before we’re ready to move and grab her.”

I felt my pulse pick up. “And dressin’ fancy will help me stay hidden?” I asked, my incredulity thick despite my excitement.

“Think about it,” she said, gesturing at me. “They’re used to seeing you dirty, unshaven, wild-haired—I bet you have a new hat every week, too.” I tilted my head in a gesture that said “You’re not fair off.” She smiled and continued. “The trick to not being seen is not drawing attention. With the right clothes and attitude, eyes will slide right off you until you’re ready to act.”

“Not that I don’t believe you,” I said hesitantly. “But I assume you know this from practice?”

She nodded, waiting for my real question.

“Well,” I walked over and sat on the arm of the loveseat. “Then what happened with the Senator’s kid?”

Layla’s expression darkened. “I thought he was an ally,” she said, her voice colder than when she had just killed Grigs and Marlowe. “But he—let us just say he was a wolf in sheep's clothing. I won’t be making another mistake like that again.”

I nodded slowly. I was saved from having to come up with a reply by a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Layla asked.

“Ma’am, I have returned with the tailor.”

“Perfect!” Layla said happily, rubbing her hands together. “This’ll be fun!”

  ***

It was not fun.

For me, anyway.

The tailor had arrived and Layla had me move some furniture to make a space for the clothing rack on wheels he brought, despite the room being mostly empty. How the older man had gotten the rack up the stairs I didn’t know and didn’t have time to ask before he had me standing in my underwear and measuring every inch of me with tape. I was saved another wave of embarrassment by a quickly produced privacy screen. That part had at least been interesting, as I learned a lot about how clothes were supposed to fit when properly made by a tailor.

The next two hours were a huge pain in the ass as Layla made me try on so many different outfits. When I was changing I’d duck behind the changing screen Mable had produced from somewhere, then walk out to get critiqued by Layla and the old tailor who introduced himself as Kester. He didn’t elaborate on whether that was his first or last name.

During the entire exercise, Layla looked like a small child in a petting zoo. She was full of smiles and wide-eyed glee as she dug through the clothing samples Kester had brought with him, mixing and matching and holding things up to me before shooing me to change into them. I think I had worn every item multiple times before I had had enough.

“Okay, so give these a try—“ Layla was saying, shoving another ensemble at me.

“I think I’m done,” I said. “We must have found somethin’ suitable by now, right?”

“Nonsense,” Layla said dismissively. “A good disguise requires thorough planning and forethought.”

I glanced at Kester, but he reacted to her comment the same way he had to everything else since his arrival—with a calm disinterest that was borderline apathy. If we weren’t in the room, I had no doubt the older man would be asleep.

I made a frustrated noise in the back of my throat—then I had a brilliant idea. “Alright,” I said, lifting a finger into the air. “I’ll play along for a while more if I can have my gun back.”

In my mind, I had expected some back-and-forth discussion with my demand. I had built it up, from good reactions to heated arguments.

“Sure,” Layla said with a shrug. “I was planning on giving it to you with a new belt.”

Oh.

It took another hour and a half before she was done throwing clothes at me, and by then even Kester was showing some signs of impatience. Or what I felt were signs of impatience. He might just be experiencing mild indigestion. He brightened up considerably as Layla handed him a list of what she wanted made.

“You sure you don’t want some brighter colors?” Kester asked in a voice that sounded like groaning support beams. “Wouldn’t want people to think him some kind of knave.”

Layla nodded with a smile. “I’m sure.”

Kester nodded and folded the paper away. “I’ll have the first set to you by the end of the day tomorrow,” he said as he started to push his rack to the door. Mable stepped forward and opened it for him. “The rest will be another two or three days.”

I was back in my robe and I shot Layla a look. “How many sets did you order?”

“Not enough for a full wardrobe, but a good start,” Layla said, finishing with a yawn. She left the room into what I assumed to be the bedroom proper and came back with my gun belt. I took it from her and felt a shuddering wave of relief run through me with the iron back in my hands.

Without thinking, I took it out of the belt and ran my hands over it, checking for rust or any damage. Finding none, I nodded in satisfaction before spinning it two times for the hell of it and returning it to the holster.

“It probably should have occurred to me that your gun was important to you,” Layla said.

“A lot of my problems in the gang became less severe when I bought it,” I said, running my thumb over the grip. “Antagonizing someone is different when they have a gun. It’s become somethin' of a security blanket.”

Layla smiled and was about to say something that was interrupted by another yawn. “Okay, I’m kicking you out,” she said instead, chivying me toward the door. She stopped long enough to put my clothes in my arms and to slip a bill into Mable’s hand as we exited her room. “Thank you for your help today, Mable.”

Mable bowed. “Of course, Miss Mills.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Patton,” Layla said, closing the door.

I was about to ask Mable if she knew where my room was when she produced a key and opened the door across the hall, stepping aside. She left the key in the lock. The room beyond was exactly like Layla’s except the carpet was deep blue instead of red. “That’s my room?” I asked slowly.

Mable nodded. “Yes sir. Do you need anything before you turn in? If you desire company, some can be sent for from the best establishments, all guaranteed clean.”

I kept my voice steady despite the blush that flared up my face. “No, no that won’t be necessary. Thank you.” I hurried into the room and stopped short of slamming the door on Mable. I reopened it and retrieved the key before I hurried to close it again.

I shook my head to clear the embarrassment away. I crossed what I’d call the living room into the bedroom. It was furnished much like the living room, except there was a small fireplace, and the biggest bed I had ever seen dominated much of the room. Everyone I had met today could sleep comfortably on that bed with room to spare.

I approached it slowly, putting my clothes on a nearby chair distractedly. Who would need a bed this big? I slipped out of my robe, hanging it on the same chair as I circled to the side of the bed furthest from the door. I hung my gun belt from the corner of the headboard and hopped into bed.

I groaned as my tired body sank into it. Feather mattress? I thought those were fake. How many birds had to die for this giant bed?

That was my last thought as I drifted off to sleep.