Entry 1 - Welcome to The Grinning Moon
Welcome to The Grinning Moon
7/28/202628 min read
I suppose I should start with some introductions for whoever ends up reading through this little diary of mine. Calling it a diary sounds kind of stupid, even as I’m writing this down, but that’s essentially what this is. A retelling of the mundane and not-so-mundane parts of my life.
My name is Jhin. I’ve been living and working at a hotel called The Grinning Moon for as long as I can remember. My position is a little complicated, but I’m essentially the groundskeeper and front desk worker. I sort of cover everything necessary to just keep this place running since finding new staff is a near impossibility for a place like this.
For starters, we’re not a brand-named entity, so don’t bother searching for us online. We don’t even take reservations over the phone despite having one, much to the chagrin of many of the guests who come through. “Why don’t you pick up your phone? I called, and nobody answered! It’s so unprofessional!”
Well, miss, whenever I pick up the phone, there’s pretty much a fifty percent chance it starts rasping in tongues probably only spoken by the denizens of hell itself. And when it’s not doing that, it’s repeatedly calling me “tubby” or several pejoratives that I won’t repeat here.
So no, I won’t pick up the phone, sorry. And no, we don’t have a website. If you want a room, you can march yourself in here and talk to me at the desk, so long as I’m there. And if I’m not, you can take a seat in the lobby. Mind the signs, though. Seriously, we’re a mimic preserve. Don’t sit on the couch with the red cushions. I mean it. There’s a red rope with a sign in front of them for a reason. Use your eyes, I’m begging you.
Who thought it was a good idea to mix mimics with hospitality? Look, I don’t make the decisions around here. Some big wig at the top supposedly received an enormous sum of money to hold them throughout the hotel. Most of them are harmless, mild annoyances that might nip your finger or clamp down on your arm. But every once in a while, one of them gets a cat, and we started having serious problems.
I’d say if you’ve traveled, you’ve probably come across a dozen hotels like ours. Lots of hotels have strange stories. Ghost sightings, oddities on the property, strange staff members, creepy histories-all of that fun stuff. The Grinning Moon dials all that up to eleven.
We even have a creepy logo to boot. A silver crescent-shaped moon sitting upright. That alone wouldn’t be so bad, except for the fact that whoever designed the thing decided to put a pair of eyes nestled within the curving crescent, using the moon to frame them. And of course, beneath those wide, soulless eyes sit a nose and a toothy grin. I’m sure it’s supposed to look friendly, but it doesn’t. It looks like it’s debating on how much it could sell your liver for in a back alley.
The establishment itself is positioned just outside the city, on a side road that’s pretty easy to miss. Again, to the complaint of many guests who get lost on the way here. We have warned people not to drive through the forest after dark, but they keep doing it anyway. Our hotel has all the facilities one could want. We have a restaurant, an arcade on the bottom floor, two bars, a pool and workout area, a dance room, multiple event rooms, and hallways that seem to stretch almost endlessly in any direction. Sometimes, they do. We also have a wonderful view of the lake and the city beyond.
Our lobby, at first glance, looks like any normal hotel lobby. It’s set up in a square, with a main walkway on your left upon entry that leads to the desk. That’s where you’d normally find me, watching from my position behind several computers. Those computers are more for show as they rarely work, so you’ll be signing into the thick, leather book sitting on the front of the desk before I check you in. Glittering diamond chandeliers hang from the roof. The walls and flooring are both dark brown wood, covered in ornate black carpets with silvery swirls of stars and moons embroidered beautifully into them. A sliding glass door and large windows allow sunlight in during the day, giving the place an open feel.
To the right, six pillars set in a square surround the lobby. On the far wall when you first enter, you’ll see multiple paintings and potted plants. However, your eyes will really be drawn to the large deer head mounted in the same place. Please ignore him; he’s foul-mouthed and always angry about something. Just in front of the mounted head sit a dozen leather couches and seats, positioned in a half-rectangle facing a large screen opposite the deer's head. Usually this screen plays the news, but sometimes a movie or show popular in our parts will flip on instead. Getting control of the thing is a task in and of itself, as everyone in the lobby wants to put whatever they’re interested in on. It’s caused more than a few fights.
The first thing everyone always complains about is the smell. Depending on the day, the hotel ranges from having the pleasant aroma of freshly picked flowers to the reek of rotting flesh and sewage. Either way, the scent is so overbearing it borders on suffocating. So even when it smells nice, it feels like the air is being squeezed from your lungs. What causes this? No idea. We’ve been trying to figure it out since I started working here, and none of us know.
Now, I’ve been working here for years. And I never started a diary. Journal. Record. Whatever you want to call this. So what finally set me off on actually logging everything happening in this place?
It all started one morning at the head of the week. The hotel lobby has a set of elevators and a huge, spiral staircase which leads up and down to the other floors. I’d just come downstairs from my room after freshly washing my hair and making sure I was presentable enough to be working at the desk.
When I stepped out of the hall and into the lobby for the first time that morning, a voice greeted me with a small, “Morning, Jhin.”
My eyes flicked to the left, following the sound. Sure enough, it was Billy, the talking deer head. Back when he was still attached to his body, he would have been a rather magnificent beast, with large antlers set on either side of his head and brown fur covered in beautiful white patterns. A prized buck through and through, radiating the elegance and strength of nature. Now, though…
He sat in his usual spot, neck craned to look in my direction as I entered. The remote was sitting on the ground in front of him, the back having clattered off in a separate direction. With bulging eyes, the deer stared at me, then turned his gaze to the remote. He didn’t ask, but there was a simple, impolite demand in the gesture.
I sighed, walking over and picking up the remote and its back. Then I turned my attention back to the deer. “I’m not doing this all day again, Billy.”
He had been stretching his neck, mouth open and teeth parted to grip the remote. But when I spoke, it earned what I’m sure he thought was a witty retort. “It’s literally your job. All you do is sit behind that desk all day; you should be thanking me for making your life more interesting instead of just having your ass glued to the seat.”
My response was to hold the remote away from him, watching the deer crane its neck desperately to reach it. His tongue and lips wiggled, his teeth reaching desperately for it.
“It’s already interesting enough without you constantly complaining,” I told him. “Also, you know I don’t just sit there all day.”
“Yes, fine, give me the damn remote.”
I rolled my eyes and set it in his mouth. He immediately whipped his head away and held it upright triumphantly, gripping it between his teeth. Then the deer head pointed it at the television, flicking through the channels until it was playing the morning news.
“Not even a thank you?”
Billy pointed the remote at me, waving me away with a bob of his head. I had half a mind to take the thing from him, but I didn’t want to deal with his constant whining for the rest of the day. So I threw up my hands in surrender and turned back to the desk, walking around to the employee entrance.
The employee entrance was a simple wooden door with dozens of runic symbols engraved into the wood. Every time we replaced it, the symbols would reappear. My boss always said it looked tacky, so we eventually removed the door entirely. That decision only lasted about a week before the door was returned, alongside all the wild engravings.
Directly beside the door, on either side, are a pair of vending machines. One for drinks and one for candies and snacks. I’ve never had to restock them once working here; they seem to just sort of fill themselves. It’s also nothing but brands I’d never heard of before I started working there. Things like “Ghost Fizz” and “Meat Froth” adorn the sides of multiple cans, whereas the snacks display oddities such as “Crunchy Legs” and “Smelly Mellows.” I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve tried a few of them. After years of working here, sometimes curiosity gets the better of you. And let me tell you, Meat Froth, while it sounds absolutely disgusting, is actually pretty alright. It definitely doesn’t taste like meat, at least. More sweet and tangy. Admittedly, I’m terrified to look at the ingredient label on the back. Figure it’s better to just pretend it’s not there for now.
I stepped through the door and into the storage room beyond–a cramped space full of multiple shelves and boxes. After making my way through, I reached a second door to the right, which actually led to my main workspace.
My usual office chair sat against the wall, an old thing that had seen far too many days and was in desperate need of replacement. A pair of computers sat in front of it, and on the far left, tucked away in the corner, was our security feed – a monitor showing various places in the hotel, marked numerically. I was pleasantly surprised to see everything was in working order. A rarity for this place.
The previous shift had left a small note. It read, “Complaint about wailing from pipes on the third floor.” I shrugged and tossed it in the small trash bin behind the desk. There wasn’t much I could do about that.
Before I officially stamped in for the day, I checked our arrivals. None scheduled. It was shaping up to be a fairly good day already from what I could see. Quiet. I liked quiet. Once I’d checked over everything, I made my way over to the small counter under the security station where the stamp book normally sat.
When each of us were first employed here, we were made a custom stamp to use for clocking in and out of our shift. They were kept in a small chest off to the right in alphabetical order, and at the start of each shift we stamped our name into the book. I opened the stamp book, flipping a few pages to reach my page. A small note had been left for me, but this wasn’t a guest complaint or anything like it.
“I’ll be back soon, Jhin. Stay safe.”
I had to smile to myself as I tucked it into my pocket, fairly certain I knew who it was from. Then I reached for the small chest containing the employee stamps. But my hand stopped before I reached it, because I noticed something.
There were two chests. Both looked identical, made of a thick, brown wood with a gold metal clasp holding each of them shut. They were the same size, about eight inches long. Both even had perfectly mirrored imperfections, including a minor scrape from when I’d previously dropped the chest on the floor.
Slowly, I withdrew my hand and folded my arms. My eyes narrowed. There definitely weren’t two of those last time I was down here. Maybe there were new stamps? The other ones were getting fairly old. So, with a shrug, I reached for the nearest of the small chests.
Before my fingers even touched the clasp, the chest shot open with a small, gargling screech. Teeth lined the interior, and a red tongue covered in thick saliva shot out as I tried to pull my fingers away.
My voice rose inadvertently, shock and a small amount of fear edging my startled scream, “What the hell?”
The little monster lunged, grabbing down on my pointer and middle finger, chomping down hard. I cursed, flailing my arm wildly and shouting words best left unsaid as I slammed it into the wall multiple times.
In response, the little chest clamped down harder. Sharp pain shot up my hand, and I winced, smacking it with my free hand to try and get it to let go.
“Ow, ow–hey!” I shouted at the thing, stumbling back toward the desk and setting my hand on the counter. It was still latched onto my hand, and I could feel its tongue licking up and down my fingers. Wet, sticky, and warm in all the worst ways. An uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine, and I grumbled, staring down at the chest. I didn’t see any blood, but damn, the little bastard hurt.
I was about to smash it on the desk again, but I realized I had company. A well-dressed woman was standing in front of the desk, watching me with a raised eyebrow.
My eye twitched, but I immediately switched into customer service mode. I smiled at her through the discomfort, still feeling the mimic biting down on my fingers, but managed through gritted teeth, “Welcome to the Grinning Moon! What can I do for you?”
As though specifically out of spite, the chest released me for a split second before biting down again. My face contorted into another pained grimace, but I immediately forced it back to a friendly smile.
The woman looked amused, running a hand through her long, black hair as she watched the proceedings with interest. Her complexion was pale, with an almost timeless face and features. She could’ve been twenty, or she could’ve been fifty, it was impossible to tell. She wore an ornate black and red dress with a tight bodice accompanying it. Red frills lined the dress’s interior, poking out through the sleeves and bottom. Her high-heeled boots clicked when she stepped toward me, leaving the carpet and walking onto the wooden floorboards. “Yes, I’d like to set a reservation up for a week from today. I was told I can’t call ahead, so I came here ahead of time.”
Her voice was polite and sounded almost stereotypically aristocratic, with a twang from some far-off place I couldn’t recognize. I liked it when people were polite, though. Even if I had what I assumed to be a mimic nibbling on my fingers.
“Oh, sure.” I used one hand to grab a pen, handing it to her and motioning towards the thick leather book sitting on the desk. “Write down all your information there; I’ll have housekeeping make sure your room is ready. What day are you-”
Before I could finish the sentence, the mimic bit down hard, and I let out a soft, “Ow.”
She laughed. It was a dignified sound, just restrained enough to not be overbearing and pleasant to the ears. While she filled in the book, she said, “My daughter needs a place to stay when the mists return. From what I understand, they’re due for next week?”
“I think so.” I agreed, quietly shaking my bitten hand.
Billy suddenly called from his position in the lobby, “Mists are due in seven days. Forecast is one week, although the weatherman around here isn’t exactly reliable.” His speaking led to him dropping the remote from his mouth, which clattered loudly against the wooden floor. “Damn it! Jhin!”
“You’ll need to wait your turn,” I called back, returning my attention to the guest. “Sorry about that, miss.”
Thankfully, she didn’t even look bothered by the talking deer head, which I was grateful for. Sometimes Billy really freaked out certain guests. Once she finished writing down her information, she glanced back at me with a smile. “I put my daughter’s name down. She’ll be the one coming in.”
“Wonderful, is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thank you.” She curtsied, then cast a humorous smile in my direction. “You seem wrapped up as is, so I’ll take my leave.”
I watched as she left, stepping through the sliding glass door. Before stepping into the morning light, she took out an umbrella from her purse, opening it. I found the motion odd as the weather was completely clear, but didn’t think too much of it. Maybe it was more of a parasol? I could never tell the difference between the two.
Finally, I turned my attention back to the chest. It didn’t hurt so much now, but the uncomfortable sensation of sharp fingers and the thing’s tongue against my fingers was less than ideal. I stared at it for a moment before walking back around the counter and to the vending machines, the chest hanging from my hand.
“My remote, Jhin!” Billy complained as I stepped out of the storage room.
I held up my hand. “I’m a little busy, man.”
“Oh damn, new mimic?” He said.
“Apparently.” I looked up and down the snack vending machine until I found the snack I was looking for, a packaged dried meat jerky called “The Big Meats.” I sighed and reached into my pocket, pulling out some cash and inserting it into the machine.
Billy cursed from somewhere behind me, “The Ghouls lost their game, man. I had money on that game.”
“You have money? We should start making you pay rent.”
“Hey, don’t give your boss ideas.”
While the vending machine dispensed the snack, I walked over to him and gave him the remote back. As usual, he didn’t thank me, but my focus was more on the thing attached to my fingers. I returned to the vending machine and retrieved the jerky, walking back around to the desk and setting the mimic up on it—still attached to my fingers.
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” I muttered, using my teeth to open the bag of jerky. Then, with my free hand, I reached in and grabbed one of the pieces of dried meat. To be honest, it smelled foul, but I wasn’t the one who needed to be impressed.
Slowly, I pushed the jerky up against the chest, tantalizing it. “Come on, you know you want this. Look, tasty, tasty flesh. Dried flesh. With lots of salt.”
After a few seconds, I felt the mimic’s grip loosen. Immediately I tore my fingers from its mouth, dropping the piece of meat and recoiling with a triumphant “Yes!”
In return, the chest almost leaped up, grabbing the jerky and gobbling it down eagerly before returning to sit completely still. With a sigh, I looked down at my fingers. Thankfully, there was no blood, just a few scrapes. I hated blood. Before the mimic decided to try anything else funny, I looked around for a white marker and drew an enormous cross on top of it. I heard the creature let out a slight gargle, but thankfully it didn’t move. Now, at least for a while, I’d be able to tell the two chests apart.
Then, finally, I went to the other chest where our stamps were normally kept. I approached it, marker in hand, staring at the wooden object with trepidation. Slowly, I extended the marker cap-first, ready to jump back if the chest sprang to life.
I poked it. Once. Twice. Three times.
After the fourth poke, I decided it was probably safe. And if it wasn’t, at that point the mimic probably deserved a bite for being so patient. So I opened it, still on the verge of leaping back if it made any sudden moves.
Blissfully, it was the proper chest. Six stamps sat in order. I reached for mine, a wood stamp with small purple engravings matching my name on it. Then, I finally stamped in for the day, making sure my signature was clear and that the ink hadn’t smudged.
With a sigh of relief, I collapsed in my chair, letting it roll backward into the wall as I leaned to stare up at the ceiling.
“Eh? What are you doing here?” A new voice asked.
I frowned and looked back toward the storage room, realizing one of the other employees was standing there.
Mivara, the desk worker when I wasn’t able to hold down the fort. She was short, standing nearly three heads shorter than me. Her frizzy blonde hair was up in a messy ponytail, and her wide-rimmed glasses were smudged in what looked to be black paint.
Similarly to me, she wore her working uniform. In her case, instead of a tailored suit, she wore a long, gray dress. The Ginning Moon’s logo sat on her chest, embroidered in silver just above her heart. She was putting on her white gloves. It was obvious she’d been in a hurry to get here. Two of the buttons on her dress were undone, and her glasses sat crooked on her nose. She motioned her head toward the lobby, back in the direction I’d initially come from.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re supposed to be meeting the boss.” She pointed at the schedule listed just behind the desk. “Didn’t he tell you? He said he was going to call.”
“My phone’s been off all morning, and you know how I feel about the hotel line.” I said, “That’s weird, did I do something?”
Mivara shrugged. “Eh...hard to say. I’m only here until your meeting is done. If it’s any consolation, he pulled me aside too. Filled me in on some changes that are going to be happening around here.”
I scowled. “I really don’t want a lecture today. Especially after coming in to that.”
Her gaze followed mine to the small mimic that had been left at the desk. She moved to look at what I was talking about, and I hurriedly stood to stop her. “No, no, no, no, you don’t want to do that, trust me. I already made that mistake”
“Mimic?” She realized.
“Mimic.” I confirmed.
She seemed amused when she spoke, “It’s so small.”
“Yeah, well it bit the hell out of my fingers.” I tossed her the bag of jerky I’d bought and stood. “Guess I better go talk to the boss, then. Is he in his office?”
“He should be.”
I straightened my suit, adjusting my black bow tie so it was sitting properly on my neck. Then I walked past her, a lump forming in my throat. Mivara gave me a heavy slap on the shoulder. “Relax, Jhin. I don’t think you did anything.”
“If you get fired, I get your room,” Billy said as I walked back through the lobby.
“If I get fired, I’m throwing you in the lake before I leave,” I replied.
“You don’t mean that.”
Grinning, I gave the deer head a small shrug.
“He doesn’t mean that, right?” Billy cast a glance at Mivara as I exited, stepping into the hallway beyond the lobby. In front of me sat the elevators, and the spiral staircase was off to the right. To the left were our public bathrooms. And at the end of that candlelit hall was the door to my boss’s room.
For a moment, I stood in front of the elevator, staring down the hall. I swear the doorway cast an ominous shadow through the dimly lit space, looming toward me like a hand reaching outward. I swallowed, brushing my hands against my pants before stepping toward the door.
As I passed the restrooms, I heard quiet singing from the woman’s side. I didn’t stop; it was honestly among the more pleasant things I’d heard from them. Compared to the screeching rat that came running out of the men’s a few weeks back, I’d take singing. Although admittedly, the slow song filled what should have been silence with a rather ominous undertone as the candles flickered around me.
I stepped up to the door, eyes on the knocker located directly in the center. It was the Grinning Moon’s logo in bright silver, but unlike the wide eyes of our usual mascot, its eyes were closed. Just over the logo was a silver hoop with a large metal ball designed to hit the center of the silver logo. It currently sat upright in a small steel clip, ready to be released and used. Multiple glowing sigils surrounded the knocker, and a line of salt sat thick in front of the doorway. The scent of burning incense wafted into the hall from the space beyond, and I could hear muffled music. Whoever was singing in the women’s bathroom stopped.
Before I could raise a hand to knock, the logo’s eyes opened.
My immediate reaction was to jump back, stifling a curse.
“Ah, Jhin.” The moon said in a masculine tone that rang out like metal dragging against metal. “Boss man said you’d be coming by.”
I nodded, putting a hand on my chest to steady myself.
“What’s wrong? See a ghost recently?” He asked humorously.
“Do you have to spring to life like that every time, Moon?”
He laughed, a sound like coins ringing against tile. “Scaring you is the best part of the job. Besides, I missed you at the elevator. My attention has been elsewhere.”
Moon was the name given to whatever entity helped with security across the hotel. I wasn’t even entirely sure what he was myself. There were multiple similar knockers he could control across The Grinning Moon at any given time. In all my years working here, I still couldn’t figure out how they worked. He couldn’t access all of them at once, so it was completely random whether or not one would suddenly spring to life and start talking to you.
Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the knocker.
“Wait.” He stopped cackling, suddenly growing weary. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll open the door-”
I slammed the knocker down hard in the center of the logo, earning a groan of pain from the moon and repeating the process three more times. He cursed with each one, metal ringing loudly as I made my presence known.
Once I’d finished, I twisted the knocker back up into place, folding my arms.
“I hate you,” Moon muttered, scrunching his metallic nose up as though to help alleviate the pain.
“No you don’t,” I replied, somewhat grateful for the release in tension. “Now, can you let me in?”
Grumbling, the door slowly slid open, and Moon added, “Watch the salt.”
The interior of my boss’s office was spacious. On every wall sat dozens of paintings that seemed to watch as I stepped carefully over the line of salt, judging my every move. A birdcage was in the back right corner, mostly covered by a large, purple blanket. An aquarium was to the left, containing large predatory fish from some place the boss constantly called “The Crimson Coast.” Where is that? No idea, and my boss wouldn’t ever elaborate.
In the middle of the room were four leather chairs facing a large, brown desk. Metal lanterns full of burning incense hung from the ceiling around them, giving the entire room a slight haze. Behind the desk sat a large, silvery chair. It currently sat empty.
The door shut behind me, and I cast a glance over my shoulder. Moon also had a knocker on the inside of the room, but it didn’t come to life or make any comments. So I turned back toward the empty room, puzzled.
“Jhin, my boy. Good to see you.” A male voice said from behind the desk.
I couldn’t see my boss in his entirety, but after a moment I realized he was there. The top of his head – a small fluff of purple hair – was visible bobbing up and down as he made his way toward his chair. With a grunt, he lept up onto his seat, turning to face me.
This is probably the time for me to mention my boss is a gnome. And not as a playful insult or a joke at a short person’s expense, I mean a literal gnome. Like the species. The race. Whatever terminology you find appropriate.
The man only stood about waist high, with a head that made up almost a quarter of his entire body. Despite this, his features were rugged, and his eyes were sunken with age. Much like me, he wore a tailored suit, although his shone a brilliant silver as it caught the light instead of the standard gray I wore. He looked tired. He always looked tired, and this made it hard for me to judge what he was thinking. Even when he was angry, his voice was steeled and calm. In one hand, he held a straight smoking pipe that was nearly the same size as his entire arm. He pulled himself closer to the desk, leaning against it with his hands clasped together. I didn’t like the position; it meant a serious talk was about to take place.
He ran a hand through the fluff of purple hair atop his head before motioning for me to sit.
“Did you need something, sir?” I asked, quickly taking a seat.
“Want a smoke?” The request surprised me. He opened a case and slid it toward me. Multiple rolls of foreign herbs and spices sat within, bound by brown paper and thin twine.
The offer made me raise a brow. “One of those conversations?”
My boss laughed, his name tag catching the light for a moment, highlighting the letters spelling out “Mando Ligovan.” He adjusted his shirt, shaking his head.
“I’m on the clock, but I appreciate the offer. Did I do something?”
“Not at all.” He took the case back, shutting the lid and putting it to the side.
“Thank god, I was starting to think…”
“No, out of all the employees here I know I can rely on you. In part because of your...situation. But you work hard when you’re on the clock, and considering the stuff we put up with around here, you do plenty.” He blew a long puff of smoke into the air, leaning back in the chair. The smell of his burning pipe mixed with the heavy aroma of incense in the air.
I sat there somewhat uncomfortably, my confusion only mounting. He seemed to be examining me closely, looking me up and down. Judging me. Sizing me up. I shifted, looking around the room at the paintings. Their watchful gazes didn’t make me feel better.
“Do you remember why I hired you, Jhin?” He finally asked.
The question surprised me. I sat straighter, recalling my very first conversation with him. “I was out of a job and a home because my parents kicked me out, so I couldn’t afford my medication. And when I applied literally everywhere, you were the only people to respond.”
“That’s not why I hired you.” He got back down from his chair, walking over to the aquarium with his hands behind his back. “I believe I told you the first day you were here we needed a human touch.”
I remembered the conversation a little better now and nodded.
“We have plenty of oddities around here. The abnormal. The supernatural, if you will.” My boss turned back toward me, motioning to the room around him. “Finding someone willing to work at a hotel like this and stay for as long as you have was difficult. Hell, it’s still difficult even given the state of things around here. You’ve done a pretty bang-up job, all things considering. The scars on your face are proof of what you’ve given to us.”
I put a hand instinctively to my left eye, feeling the dip in my skin there.
“I’m not going to lie, Jhin, things are going to get more difficult around here.” The gnome folded his arms. “We have a lot of high-class clientele coming in over the coming weeks. And I have a request from my boss, directly to you since you’re here the most.”
This caught my attention, and now I understood why he wanted the private meeting. If his boss, the actual owner of the Grinning Moon wanted something from me, that was a big deal.
He returned to his desk, opening up one of the drawers and putting something on the table. It was an enormous leather book, bound in chains and several padlocks. Whatever the book was, it was clearly old. Even from the side, I could see the pages were yellowed with age, and small white protrusions jutted from edges of the front and back cover.
Then, he pulled out a white binder. It was extremely well organized. There were hundreds of colored tabs sticking out of the side.
“They’re willing to keep covering the cost for your medication. The next dose is going to be a little late, but as compensation they’re upping your hourly rate.” My boss returned to his chair, taking a seat and motioning toward me. “If you end up needing a couple days off due to not feeling well, let me know. I’ll have Mivara work the shift for you.”
I frowned. “Are you sure-”
“Yes, Jhin. Your health is important.” He stressed. “I didn’t take you off the street to literally work you to death. We already have enough dead things here.”
I nodded.
“Anyways, what I really wanted to talk to you about are these two things.” The gnome motioned toward the binder and leather book in front of him. “I have a vacation coming up, which means you’ll be working everything alone.”
The statement surprised me. I’d never known Mando to take a vacation, or any sort of break for that matter. He was always at a business meeting or talking to some important client about an upcoming event.
My shock must have registered on my face. He chuckled, “I figured it was about time, no? Anyway, before my brother passed, he would have helped with this. But now...I’m leaving it in your hands while I’m gone.”
A protest slowly rose in my throat. I didn’t want more responsibilities; this was extra work getting offloaded onto me that I wasn’t being paid to do. Why was I the one getting stuck with this? Why not Mivara or someone else?
Before I could talk, he put up a hand to quiet me. “I know what you’re thinking already. You’re the only one I can trust with this job, and that’s why you’re going to be getting a fifty percent raise.”
My protest immediately faded. Fifty percent?
Then, suspicion crept into my voice. “What do I have to do?”
He chuckled. “It’s actually fairly easy.”
“For a fifty percent raise?”
“I fought for that number for you, just so you’re aware.” My boss pointed at the leather book. His tone grew serious, and he looked me dead in the eyes. “The first thing I need you to do is simple. This bound book, here. It contains a lot of information about the hotel and the things and people in it. You are only to ever read it in an emergency, do you understand me? There is a lot of confidential information in there, and if it ever fell into the wrong hands serious damage could be wrought. Not just to the hotel, but to everyone around us. And I mean everyone, Jhin.”
Normally, I’d be incredulous. But this was my boss, and my paycheck was on the line. Besides, it didn’t necessarily hurt to help him out a bit. We got along well enough. So I simply gave him a nod of agreement.
“Usually, it’ll just be in here.” He tapped the drawer with a hand. “Second drawer down. You might not be able to see it. Reach in, and you’ll find it. For the most part, I want you to pretend it doesn’t exist. Can you do that?”
“Sure.” I agreed. “Ignore the weird book. What about the binder?”
“That’s a more pressing issue.” My boss opened the binder, showing me a few of the pages. Curiously, I leaned over the table to look. It looked to be some sort of log, a combination of a ledger and handwritten notes. No, not notes. It was…
“A journal?” I asked.
He nodded in agreement. “I keep two of these. One for personal use in the same drawer, and one for my boss. The corporation that owns the Grinning Moon. Don’t ask me why, but they like daily notes of any odd occurrences and specific details regarding particular guests. It’s all pretty secretive stuff. Lock and key, behind closed doors, so on, so forth. From what I understand, this binder and all the data in it are the only reason we keep our doors open.”
I frowned, looking down at the binder. “So what, my paycheck is tied to this thing?”
“You get it.” The gnome said. “And your medication.”
Now I understood why this was so important for me to know. No entries in the journal? No medication. No pay.
“I’m making this part of your daily tasks. At the end of every day, I want you to fill this out with anything interesting that happened as well as our in-house guests.” He explained, “Only the ones that sign the ledger at the desk. Anything else, just include it in the notes and your recounting of the day.”
“That sounds extremely tedious.” I admitted, “Even if we’re not counting every single weird thing that shows up here.”
The gnome sounded surprised. “You’ve never kept a journal?”
“Should I?”
My boss set both the binder and the bound book back in the drawer, withdrawing a large notebook from his desk and setting it on the table. To my surprise, he opened it. Every few pages were dated, with small sketches and long paragraphs beneath the dates. The gnome flipped through the pages, saying, “I write everything down in here and photocopy it for the binder. Then I add my own thoughts. The things I can’t say aloud.” He gave a wry grin. “Oftentimes cursing upper management for their stupidity.”
I laughed, looking down at the notebook. “Why?”
“My memoir may come in handy in the future.” He gave it an affectionate pat, shutting the cover and returning it to the drawer. “And when we die, all that remains are our stories.”
“You’re saying this to the guy working at a haunted hotel.” I remarked, “Things don’t really ‘move on’ around here.”
The gnome chuckled. “True, maybe one day we’ll both end up back at the Grinning Moon. But if we don’t, this is my life’s story. Wouldn’t you like someone to know about yours, even after you’re gone?”
“I don’t think my life is exactly exciting, sir.”
He seemed surprised by this. Then, he seemed to come to a decision. With a soft grunt, he tugged open a fourth, previously unopened drawer. After fishing inside, he pulled out another book. “Your favorite color is purple, isn’t it?”
I nodded, curiosity burning as he removed yet another tome from the drawer.
My boss set these aside before pulling out a thick, purple, leather-bound book with white pages and our hotel’s logo on the cover. He reached for a silver marker, writing “Jhin” on the front. Then, he held it out in my direction. “It’s not the most handsome tome, but it will do. You’ll be keeping a log anyway, Jhin. Writing can be therapeutic. So write. Keep a journal of your life. And someday, maybe you’ll have someone worth sharing it with, yes?”
When I took the book in my hand, it was surprisingly heavy. Each of the lined pages was blank. For some reason, I felt like it was waiting to be filled. I also realized something else as he handed the book to me.
This was a gift. From my boss. He’d shown me his personal journal among two other incredibly important things. Something was going on here, but I couldn’t place a finger on it. Regardless, what he said...it didn’t sound so bad. I looked down at my new journal, then back at him.
He was looking at me expectantly, a brow raised.
“Thank you.” I finally said. “And yes, I’ll take care of this while you’re away. When are you leaving?”
“After the next mist. Just before the next.” The gnome replied, “So you have some time to get situated. I’ll have you turn in daily logs when you stamp in each morning. Make sure to keep your personal things private from the logs my bosses will see. There’s a photocopier in the storage room beside the desk, although I can’t promise it’ll always be working. You know how finicky our technology is here. If that happens, make some quick notes, and that will do. Just try to avoid doing that too often. They prefer more detailed reports.”
I nodded, looking down at the book. “I never thought you’d be asking me to do something like this.”
“Work aside, you should be keeping some sort of journal.” He noted. “It’s good to have a recounting of past experiences at your fingertips.”
“I’ll put my all into it, sir.”
“I know you will, my boy.” The gnome gave me a small smile before suddenly remembering something. “Ah, right. There was a new mimic I got sent. I set it on the desk-”
“Already met it.” I interrupted. “Unfortunately.”
He chuckled. “Sorry about that; I meant to leave a note. Well, that’s all for now, Jhin. Your pay raise goes into effect today, so this shift is technically your first day on the new pay raise. There’s a new title with your promotion, too.”
“A new title?”
“Senior Groundskeeper.” He agreed.
I hesitated a few seconds before asking, “Sir, I’m the only groundskeeper, right?”
“Correct.”
“So...I’m still just the groundskeeper,” I said.
The gnome gave me a somewhat playful smile, his tired eyes lighting up a little. “Well, doesn’t senior sound a little more professional?”
“I’m twenty-five, sir.”
“It doesn’t mean age!” He scolded with a chortle. “It means you’re higher up in your position.”
Somewhat amused, I remarked, “A position in which only one person is stationed.”
“Get out of my damn office, Jhin.” The gnome waved me away. “I don’t do well with hecklers.”
Now I laughed, too. “Yes, sir.”
With a polite nod of my head, I stood, turning to walk out of the room and leaving my boss to his own devices. And that leads us to where we are now. Billy in the lobby, swearing and cursing at the television. The small mimic chest to my right, the entire bag of jerky stuffed in its mouth. And me, sitting behind the desk and filling in my first diary entry.
Actually, there is no way in hell I’m calling this my diary; I am definitely calling it my memoir. It sounds fancier that way. More professional. And that, of course, is what we’re all about at the Grinning Moon.