The Collector’s Lot

NB: konbini - Japanese for convenience store
pachinko - Japanese pinball
Please enjoy!

The Collector's Lot

As the car rolled its way northwards, the dull beat of concrete road seams reverberated through the car. The vehicle’s two occupants as silent as the surrounding rice fields, one asleep in the passenger’s seat, the other straining his eyes in the failing light. Switching on the headlights, Luke peered ahead into the gathering gloom, a continuous straight line to nowhere. Luke turned on the air-con and radio in an attempt to stave off the drowsiness that threatened to drag down his eyelids, the cool breeze felt refreshing on his face. In her seat beside him Alice stirred from her slumber,

“Where are we?” she asked wearily.

“On the same road we were on an hour ago, there seems to be no end. I haven’t seen a road sign since the last turn off,” Luke sighed deeply, “though I could do with stopping for a break soon, we’ve been driving for hours.”

Alice looked at the dashboard clock,

“My God, it’s eight o’clock already, we should’ve been there hours ago!”

“Well you did insist that we stop and look at that temple,” Luke turned off the radio, “and I have a feeling we’re lost.”

“So much for your shortcut then,” Alice said dryly.

“At the next Konbini we’ll stop for a rest and I’ll try to get directions.”

The road carried on, winding through a vast featureless landscape of green, highlighted in the beams of the headlamps. Only an occasional wall of earth marking a tractor track broke the uniformity of the countryside. In front of Luke’s face, white lines blurred into a single snake meandering along the course of the highway’s surface.

“Look, there are lights ahead!” Alice’s cry pierced Luke’s lethargy. Shaking his head, he realized he had been dozing at the wheel. He looked to the clock; the small green LED readout gave him a start,

“How can it be ten-thirty? Have we been on this road that long?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that I am tired.” Alice answered in a quiet voice.

“We had better start thinking about stopping for the night then,” and I can’t go on driving through God-knows-where falling asleep at the wheel, he thought to himself. The lights glittered brightly in the distance.

As the car neared the swarm of neon, two buildings were visible amidst the glare, a pachinko parlour and, to Luke’s relief, a hotel. Although from that distance the neon signs advertising the hotel’s presence looked a little too gaudy for his taste.

Approaching the buildings was as if entering into daylight, stark artificial light flooded the car’s interior, forcing Luke to slow the car to a crawl until his eyes became adjusted to the dazzling light. Turning the car into the hotel’s car park, Luke noticed that dozens of statues filled the lot next to the pachinko parlour. Alabaster and marble sculptures depicting various recognizable and unidentifiable characters; from a Statue of Liberty down to an unknown figure with its arms spread wide, head thrown back screaming to the heavens. Alice too had seen the strange image and a shudder ran the length of her spine.

Parking the car, Luke looked over to Alice,

“Let’s see if there is anyone about.” Alice nodded and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Opening the driver’s door, Luke stepped out of the car.

After the air-conditioned atmosphere within the car the parking lot was a furnace in comparison under the halogen floodlights. Luke, turning in a circle, examined the complex. To the far side of the road, a wall of black marked the encircling farmland, to the other the fluorescent neon veneer of the hotel. He looked back to the brilliance of the pachinko parlour and noted the lack of illumination inside the building; in fact the parlour appeared to be in disuse as the main doors were blocked by boards of wood nailed across the entrance. He leaned into the car,

“The, umm, pachinko’s completely deserted!”

Alice looked at Luke with an amused expression,

“Don’t be stupid, if it was abandoned why would the place still be lit up like a tasteless Christmas tree?” she laughed. Luke’s eyes narrowed,

“Maybe for the hotel...” He said darkly.

Slamming the car door, Luke stalked off towards the entrance of the hotel. Upon mounting the steps, Luke paused and craned his neck to look up at the mammoth neon billboard that made up the hotel’s façade. ‘Milky way Hotel, love is an eternity carved in stone’ declared the pink fluorescent tubes as they flickered garishly above his head.

Luke opened the front doors and stepped inside. The doors opened onto a small, square foyer dominated by a large sofa and coffee table. The interior decoration was a reflection of the distinctive colouring of the neon outside, softly lit lilac walls provided a warm atmosphere to arriving guests. A staircase disappeared upwards opposite the doors, but there was no evidence of a reception only the hulking presence of a vending machine that could allot rooms for a specific duration. Walking over to the machine Luke checked if there was a room available. The machine announced that all rooms were free, whether for three hours, five hours or all night. The hotel was empty. Luke stiffened slightly and headed back to the car.

Luke walked slowly back across the car park to the waiting car, he could see Alice’s head turned away from him, she was looking towards the pachinko parlour and those statues, Luke shivered involuntarily.

“I think this whole place is deserted,” he said, climbing back into the driver’s seat. Alice did not respond, she was still looking at the statues, “maybe we should find another place to stop for the night, it’s just a bit too weird here.”

“I think there’s someone over there.” Alice said suddenly. She pointed towards two of the larger statues, one a depiction of Eve, minus the fig leaves, holding the forbidden fruit and the other of a Roman legionary with his short sword through his heart. Between the sculpture’s plinths was a bench with a hunched figure seated upon it.

Getting out of the car Alice and Luke made their way over to the seated figure. The air bristled in the heat as they moved across the asphalt. Once among the statues, Luke noted that they were positioned in regimental rank and file, an army waiting for the call that would never come. There was a pattern to the theme of the carvings that was becoming frighteningly obvious. The sculptor had obviously thought highly of the female form; for the statues of women were all unclothed, yet the artists regard towards his male depictions was one of rage, each representation was the victim of a violent mind, figures impaled on implements of war or subjected to some fearful torture. The white, marble faces of those statues locked into permanent masks of pain and horror, a stark contrast to the air of serenity surrounding the female representations, peace and torment side by side.

“Some bloke sure had a grudge,” said Luke, casting a sympathetic glance over the male portrayals.

“What makes you think the artist was a man?” replied Alice examining a nearby piece of two women locked together in an embrace, “Perhaps a jilted lover wanting to vent her frustration.” She laughed lightly.

Luke regarded his girlfriend with a critical glare; he had been feeling more and more uneasy about the whole place while Alice seemed to think it was all one big joke. He kept his grumbling to himself as they approached the unmoving figure of what looked like an old man.

“Another bloody carving,” muttered Luke to himself. Their footsteps echoed in the still air as gravel crunched underfoot, the carving ahead stood up.
The couple stopped about six feet short of the old man; Luke stared at the man in surprise. He was about a head shorter than himself but he had a wild look in his eyes that made Luke squirm inside. Long white hair fell to his shoulders and a wispy beard half covered a craggy, leathery face. A black hole of rotted teeth opened as the man started to speak,

“You are Americans?” asked the man; the accent was unfamiliar but definitely not Japanese despite the aged features of the man.

“No, we’re, umm, English,” replied Luke somewhat bemused.

“Ah, England! I love your country, very beautiful scenery. I also love your country because people are very friendly.”

Alice and Luke glanced at each other, the amused glint still evident in her eyes.

“Uh, is it alright if we stay at the hotel, only there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.” Luke wore an anxious expression.

“Nobody walking around here but me I’m afraid,” chirped the old man, “and the hotel kind of takes care of itself, it doesn’t need me. I just look after these.” He waved his arms expansively indicating the surrounding forest of plaster and marble.

“I wouldn’t think they would need that much attention, unless they start getting lonely.” Alice laughed aloud.

“Well someone has to keep them company,” said the old man flatly, fixing Alice with a penetrating glare. Alice’s smile faded from her features. The old man turned back to Luke, then with a shuffling gait hobbled over until they were no more than a hair’s width apart. The stern expression had not left the antique visage; the old man’s eyes stared fixedly into Luke. The younger man could not avert his gaze, his eyes locked onto those dark orbs, pits of black,

“I care not if you stay at the hotel, but I will give you some friendly advice,” the old man’s voice dropped in pitch for Luke’s ears alone, “if you decide to stay,” he sneered, “do not leave the hotel for any reason until dawn.”

The wizened features pulled away as the old man moved back, a smile had returned to his lips. Luke had taken a step back, a step away from the old man. The old man’s gaze shifted to Alice’s startled appearance.

“Your women is very beautiful,” he stated addressing Luke, the old man’s shoulders quivered as a high pitched wheeze emerged from the aged figure’s mouth, making the decaying remnants of his teeth visible to the couple.

The old man waved the two youngsters off with a gnarled hand as he turned and limped back to his bench, laughing to himself. Luke and Alice started back towards the car.

“The guy was fucking crazy,” shouted Alice when they reached the car and out of earshot of the old man, “and what was it he said to you?”
“Nothing important, just something ridiculous about not leaving the hotel,” he muttered in reply.

“There a curfew or something?” she scoffed.

Luke did not answer at first, then without looking at his girlfriend he pulled their bag out of the car and started towards the hotel, pausing mid-stride he glanced over his shoulder,

“I’m really tired of driving around, why don’t we stay here tonight and leave first thing.” Alice just shrugged and followed after the retreating figure of Luke.

Sitting down on the bed, Alice gazed disapprovingly around the hotel room, the water bed rippled beneath her. The room itself was a riot of colour, half making it look like a jungle, fairy lights were strung around the walls and a thick pile carpet suffocated the floor.

“Can you do something about the temperature in here, it’s boiling,” she complained as she crossed over to a fitted wardrobe and slid open the door.

“I couldn’t find the control switch for the air-con anywhere,” gurgled Luke from the bathroom.

Alice peeked into the closet and then quickly shut the door upon seeing various accessories and outfits ensconced within, ‘better not give him any ideas’, she thought wryly glancing to the bathroom’s open door,

“I guess we’ll just have to make do then,” with this she let her robe slip to the floor.

“I hope you don’t get seasick,” giggled Alice when Luke stepped out of the bathroom to see his girlfriend in bed with only a sheet to cover her slim figure, translucent material did not really hide all that much.

After an hour or two they were both sound asleep.

A noise startled Alice awake, she sat up and looked down next to her, Luke snored softly beside her.

Again the sound came, carried faintly on the still night air through the open window of the room, a horse calling in the distance. Alice gently climbed off the bed.

Luke roused himself at the sound of the door opening; sitting upright he turned in time to see Alice’s bare form disappear through the open door,

“Alice!” he called out after her, no response came back. Puzzled and somewhat worried he quickly pulled the sheet around him toga style and followed her warily out of the room.

She advanced quickly over the tarmac heading towards the sharp gravel and statues ahead. Luke’s feet seared on the black surface of the asphalt as the powerful halogen lamps beat mercilessly down from above. Luke tried crying out her name but Alice, oblivious to the heat and the sound of her lover’s anguish continued on. Luke broke into a run, heedless of the pain mounting with each step, sweat poured from his face blinding his eyes, the distance between the two was growing he was not gaining any ground.

Alice reached the gravel expanse marking the statues’ domain, in her mind a horse’s cry beckoned her on. Luke ran on heedless of the sharp stones beneath his soles. His vision obscured by a red haze, Luke could only just make out the distant figure of Alice standing next to large plinth, he ran on roaring his girlfriend’s name.

A deathly quiet blanketed the surrounding countryside, only the dazzling bubble distinct in the dark. A tormented howl punctured the still night air, a wail of grief and misery. Then slowly the cry dwindled to nothing as if smothered to silence. Stillness had returned to the night, the blazing halogen lights encircling the lot winked out one by one; dawn had arrived.

Sunlight poured over the lot in a molten wave, upon statue and seated figure alike. The lamps, now extinguished, were not needed for such a bright morning; lengthening shadows offered the old man a little respite from the glare of the rising sun. Standing from his bench the aged figure straightened and stretched before striding youthfully among his collection. He paused between a particular pair; reaching out a hand he caressed the marble rump of a prancing horse with an intricately carved sculpture of a naked woman riding bare back. The stone was smooth and warm in the morning sun. He gazed admiringly up at the mount’s rider, then sighing he turned to the next figurine of a man standing with hands raised to his face as he gouged out his own eyes, the mouth open but its scream trapped within.

©PsiCat 2006