Florida Blues / part 4
Roy found the hotel where his father said they would be staying. He walked into the lobby and paused to catch his breath under a ceiling fan that was stirring the sultry air. Assorted huge palm plants were stationed around the wicker and rattan furniture. It reminded him of a movie that he had seen with Humphrey Bogart. He strolled over to the front desk.
“Welcome to the Gulf Breeze Inn. How may I help you?” asked front desk clerk.
“I’ve just arrived in Key West and I’m meeting my family who’s staying here. The name’s Baldwin.”
The desk clerk opened the registration book and thumbed through the pages. “Do you know when they checked in?”
“It was a few days ago,” replied Roy.
The clerk slowly moved her fingers down a couple of pages. As she did so, Roy felt a vague uneasiness steal over him.
“Is it possible that a different name was used?” the clerk asked.
Roy gave her a curious look as if to convey what to him seemed to be an absurd question.
“People do that, you know,” she added.
“He wouldn’t have any reason to do that. Besides, my family is expecting me to meet them here,” answered Roy.
The desk clerk searched again and after a minute or two, she closed the registration book and said, “I’m sorry, but no one has registered by the name of Baldwin, at least not in the past few days.”
“That can not be”, Roy replied incredulously .
“I’ve looked very carefully”, she affirmed.
“Well, this is not such a large hotel. Maybe you’ve seen him. He’s a middle-aged man of average height and wears black-framed glasses. You would've probably seen him with three teenage boys.”
For a brief moment she paused to think and then replied, “I haven’t seen anyone that fits that description.”
“I suppose he could have used a different name, but highly unlikely.”
It was evident from his expression that he was surprised at what he had just said. “May I have a look at the register?” he asked. “I’m sure I'd recognize his handwriting.”
“I’m afraid that’s against hotel policy, sir, for security reasons you understand. I wish, though, for your sake that I could.”
Roy was familiar enough with Mr. Baldwin’s hand writing that if the man had, for whatever mysterious reason, signed the register using a different name, Roy would probably have no problem spotting it. If only the desk clerk would let him have a quick look at the signatures of the registered guests. Unfortunately for Roy, that was not going to happen.
Out of the hotel and into the blinding light of the broiling Key West sun he slowly walked disheartened and stunned. To a casual observer, he must have appeared as someone who enjoyed confused conversations with himself as he shuffled dejectedly across the parking lot. Fortunately, when Roy got to the car, Leon was still passed out. Roy fidgeted for a minute or two as he contemplated his next move. He opened his wallet and counted the bills but what he saw just made him more depressed. He wondered if he had misunderstood some of information he had been given as he started the car and drove towards no place especially while venting loudly and perhaps causing other motorists and pedestrians to think that he suffered from some sort of mental disorder. He tried to imagine the sort of hotel his family would stay at in a place as unique as Key West. Still, if Mr. Baldwin had checked out of the Gulf Breeze Inn, he would have most assuredly left a note at the front desk. It just didn’t add up. Nothing made sense and now he was unsure as to what he should do next. In spite of the long shot odds and the lack of a better idea, he drove from one hotel to another looking for his family while the hours slipped by. What modicum of hope there may have been was turning to disappointment and despair. When the sun had almost completely arched across the sky, he knew then that his visit to Key West had come to its tiring end. Leon was right. There were too many damn hotels.
It was almost dusk when they drove into a hotel parking lot in Homestead. “A woman that I was supposed to go to the beach with today works at a club in this hotel. I gotta go in there. I got some 'splainin’ to do,” said Leon in a mock Ricky Ricardo voice as he got out of the car. “C’mon, we’ll have a few beers and listen to the band.”
“What the hell, I sure don’t have anything else to do.” At least it would help him to forget about the dilemma he was faced with, if just for one evening. Luckily and ironically for him, it was “happy hour”. Maybe he’d have some fun after all, as some compensation for all of the aggravation he'd been put through, he thought. The band wasn’t half bad and although he was the only white guy in the joint, no one made him feel unwelcome. Leon’s friends, who were mostly military guys and bar flies, were jumpin’ and jivin’ like Soul Train veterans. Roy also kicked up his heels a couple of times, though only at the urging of some of the rather insistent patrons. He definitely stood out like a sore thumb. It made him feel self-conscious at first but the booze gave him courage and made him forget that he was the only "honky" in the joint. Otherwise, he might have felt as if he were overstepping the boundaries of what he would allow himself to do normally. His adventure so far, however, wasn’t a total disaster. But his journey was far from over.
(...to be continued)
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