12:27am

June 28
California desert-land

A draught of cool night air slowly brought Isaac from his sleep. Sitting up on his elbows, he looked at the door. It was wide open. Grumbling, he threw the blanket off and swung his legs off the edge. He was about to stand, when he noticed the silhouette in the doorway. Instantly awake, he watched a match being struck on the frame, and brought around to a single candle. The shadowed contours of the Goddess's face paralysed him. There was no words he could think of to describe her beauty. Ethereal; not of this world. She was definitely a creature of the night. She reminded him of a black cat; graceful and seductive . . . and a deadly omen.
'God' he thought, 'If I'm going to die tonight, let it be in her arms!'.
She did not approach him, nor did she speak. She simply stood there, watching him. What did she want him to do?
"Is there a problem at all?" he asked, running a hand through his long hair. She did not respond, simply walked out of the doorway, and down the corridor. Curious, Ike stood up, quickly threw on a shirt and jeans over his boxers and followed the light of the candle.
By the open court-yard door she stood, watching a group of boys dancing wildly around a bonfire. The candle she had carried was gone. Put down somewhere he supposed. She'd been so mesmerised by the abandoned movement, he almost regretted interrupting her with his question.
"Who are they?" these boys hadn't been here when Ike had arrived. He glanced at an ancient clock hung just inside the door. 12:27am. Strange time to be dancing around a bonfire. Although, they couldn't exactly do it during the day.
"Friends," she said, her voice was husky. With lust? Maybe her mind was 'Tiffany-twisted' as Taylor had so aptly coined when one of his girl-friends, Tiffany, had left the US for Mexico with a boy about 13 that she claimed was her son. And she being 20 years old. Had she actually thought they were that stupid? The light from the fire glinted off the boys' sweat. 'Weird' was the only word he could think to describe the scene he was watching, but it went much deeper than that. Ritual? Ceremony? Sacrifice?
"Why are they dancing?"
"Some to remember, others to forget," he bit back the 'Forget what?'; the look in her eyes was not one he wanted to confront at this moment in time.

Turning once more, Isaac growled with frustration. He was too awake to sleep. He hated when that happened! Something to calm him down. Alcohol would do the trick just nicely. The Goddess had said just to call if he needed anything. But how? There was no phone – he turned on his other side and was now staring a white phone. He could have sworn that wasn't there before! What the hell was going . . . maybe he just hadn't noticed it? Yeah, that must have been it. Come on! A phone couldn't appear out of thin air! Could it? Deciding not to question any further, he simply picked up the phone. About to dial, a voice halted him.
"Hello?"
"Um . . . yeah. I'm in room . . . uh –" he glanced around. The number was on the door. "26, could you please bring up some wine or something?" wine was good. Enough to put him to sleep, but not give him a hang-over the size of Texas the next morning! The man just laughed.
"Wine? Oh that's a good one! The last time that spirit was here it was . . . what . . . 1969! God, has it been that long –?" Ike hung up before he had to listen to any more. Nearly 35 years without alcohol? This place was turning weirder by the second. Okay, so he'd have to go to sleep with out the aid of a little champagne. He sighed, rolled over and forced his eyes shut. It was so quiet. The silence was screaming at him . . . he'd almost succeeded in dozing off when the voices woke him up. 'Welcome to the Hotel California . . . such a lovely place. . . .' he heard the Goddess's voice echoing in his head, 'Such a lovely face . . . They're livin' it up at the Hotel California . . . What a nice surprise. . . .'


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