HOME | DD

Description
It was a small chapel, but ornate. Stained glass windows were artificially lit from behind to give the impression that the sun was shining through them, and the brightly colored glass showed saints and martyrs praying and performing miracles. The altar was white marble and covered with a thick, dark green cloth. The high ceiling was painted with complex patterns in rich blues and golds. It was worlds away from the metal and technology-filled modernity outside.

I sat for a while in peace on the hard wooden bench, enjoying the old-fashioned feel of the place. It reminded me of childhood. After a few minutes had passed, I saw a curtain shift out of the corner of my eye. I followed the movement and saw a woman emerge from a room in the back. Though she looked surprised to see me, she quickly came over and sat down beside me. She was a priest, dressed in the traditional Catholic vestments and collar, and she looked young, with long hair that fell in gingery waves down her back and blue eyes which were now crinkling slightly at the corners with the natural intensity of her smile.

"Hi," she said. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here so early. Did you want to make your confession?"

I shook my head, feeling awkward. "No. No thank you. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here, either. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize," she said. Her face was very open and honest-looking, and I felt like I was deceiving her by being there. "Just here for some quiet reflection?"

"I'm not religious," I said, feeling acutely embarrassed. "I guess I was just hoping for some answers to show up."

"You might just be in the right place," said the priest, with humor in her voice. "Do you want to talk about whatever it is you need answers to?"

"I already know what you'd say about it," I said. "You're a priest. The way I'm thinking is sinful. I should stop."

"I'm also a person," she said, "and I know it's not often as easy as that. Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's complicated," I said.

"Perhaps you could start with your name," she said. "I'm Magda."

"Solomon," I replied. I considered whether or not to try and put my feelings into words. On one hand, Magda's kind face and bright smile made me feel at ease in her company. On the other hand, though, she was still a woman, and an attractive one, no matter how off-limits she was as a priest. She sat close to me, and the lily-scent of her perfume mingled with the faint traces of incense that lingered in the air, catching me off guard. "How do you find meaning in your life?" I asked her.

"For me, it was easy," she said. "I received my calling when I was young. For others? I don't think there are any easy answers to that. You can't create meaning out of thin air, Solomon."

"I know," I said, feeling helpless. "I suppose I was just hoping your perspective might have given you some magical solution I'd never thought of before."

"I can't make you feel that your life has meaning," she said. "That has to come from you. What I can tell you is that I enjoy talking to you and I'd like to see you back here sometime so we can talk again. You can keep going for a few days for that, right?"

"I'd like that," I said, and it was the truth. Short of true friends on this luxury floating prison, I genuinely wanted to talk to her again, and I hoped her friendly nature was not just an act—a job requirement.

"Right now, though, I have to go and get ready. I was preparing for mass when you came in, since it's starting in fifteen minutes. You're welcome to stay, if you like."

"I would," I said, "but I need to get back to work. I'm sorry."

"Maybe another time," she said. "I hope you feel better."

I gave the pale priest a smile, and somehow I did feel better as she retreated back behind the curtain she had entered through. I sat where I was for just a moment longer, and then went out of the quiet sanctuary, back into the steel and stone corridor beyond. Though I hadn't eaten, I somehow felt more energized than if I had.

I arrived at the staff offices fully expecting to get back to work on the fishtanks with Derek. When I got there, though, all of the hotel workers on duty were clustered in a semi-circle around a stranger in a suit. I'd never seen this happen before, and walking straight toward the group, I felt sheepish—as though I was late for something I'd never known was going to happen. I found a familiar face on the fringes of the crowd, a freckled young woman called Jill I sometimes talked to during security shifts, and nodded a greeting.

"Emergency meeting," she whispered by way of explanation. "They're going to take us down to the main conference room in a few minutes. Something big is happening, it seems. This guy is some government worker."

I raised my eyebrows. I couldn't think of a reason the government would want to speak to all of us. I wondered if we were in trouble over something.

"I can't tell you anything myself," the man was saying over the protests of the workers nearest to him. "I'm not authorized. I just need you all to make your way down to the conference room now. We're going to be meeting up with some other people who need to be briefed, too. Just be patient for a few more minutes." He turned and left the room, and the crowd of hotel security guards and maintenance workers trailed after him.

I walked with Jill. She was very short, and she struggled to keep pace with my long stride. Her energetic, quick-moved walk made her dark bobbed hair bounce as she moved along beside me.

"I bet it's something exciting," she said with a wink. "Maybe the president is coming to stay."

"Maybe he is," I said, amused by her cheerful patter. "Perhaps they're going to make sure we all know how to be properly polite."

"I can be courteous and charming with the best of them!" Jill insisted. "I think I'm doing all right."

"I'm sure he'd like you," I said.

The double doors to the conference room were ahead of us, and the government worker pushed them open and walked inside. Over the heads of the crowd flowing through the doorway I could see that there were already a number of people inside.

The conference room was very large with amphitheater-style seating. Like all areas of the hotel it was lavishly decorated, with red cloth draped around the walls and burnished bronze accents. The seats were the standard pull-down style, but comfortable and expensive-looking. I slipped along an aisle near the back and settled into one of the chairs. Looking around the room, I tried to identify the groups of people who had been summoned. There were many people in suits—some I recognized as hotel executives, and others I did not know. Others were dotted here and there in ordinary or more elaborate clothing. My eye was briefly drawn to a beautiful woman in a long green dress. She was near the back too, only a couple of rows ahead of me, and sat high in her chair with a slight condescending smile on her face as though she was amused to watch all of us scurrying around. After a moment, she turned to face me. She gave me a hard look, right in the eyes, and then smiled. I was embarrassed to have been caught looking at her, but I could not bring myself to break her gaze.

"Your attention please, ladies and gentlemen." A smartly suited man of late middle age was standing at the front of the conference hall wearing a microphone headset.

Thank God. I snapped my focus away from the woman in the green dress and looked down at the man who would be briefing us on whatever it was that was going on.

"I'm sorry to pull you all away from whatever you were doing," he said, "but we felt that it was very important to get this message out."

Description
It was a small chapel, but ornate. Stained glass windows were artificially lit from behind to give the impression that the sun was shining through them, and the brightly colored glass showed saints and martyrs praying and performing miracles. The altar was white marble and covered with a thick, dark green cloth. The high ceiling was painted with complex patterns in rich blues and golds. It was worlds away from the metal and technology-filled modernity outside.

I sat for a while in peace on the hard wooden bench, enjoying the old-fashioned feel of the place. It reminded me of childhood. After a few minutes had passed, I saw a curtain shift out of the corner of my eye. I followed the movement and saw a woman emerge from a room in the back. Though she looked surprised to see me, she quickly came over and sat down beside me. She was a priest, dressed in the traditional Catholic vestments and collar, and she looked young, with long hair that fell in gingery waves down her back and blue eyes which were now crinkling slightly at the corners with the natural intensity of her smile.

"Hi," she said. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here so early. Did you want to make your confession?"

I shook my head, feeling awkward. "No. No thank you. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here, either. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize," she said. Her face was very open and honest-looking, and I felt like I was deceiving her by being there. "Just here for some quiet reflection?"

"I'm not religious," I said, feeling acutely embarrassed. "I guess I was just hoping for some answers to show up."

"You might just be in the right place," said the priest, with humor in her voice. "Do you want to talk about whatever it is you need answers to?"

"I already know what you'd say about it," I said. "You're a priest. The way I'm thinking is sinful. I should stop."

"I'm also a person," she said, "and I know it's not often as easy as that. Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's complicated," I said.

"Perhaps you could start with your name," she said. "I'm Magda."

"Solomon," I replied. I considered whether or not to try and put my feelings into words. On one hand, Magda's kind face and bright smile made me feel at ease in her company. On the other hand, though, she was still a woman, and an attractive one, no matter how off-limits she was as a priest. She sat close to me, and the lily-scent of her perfume mingled with the faint traces of incense that lingered in the air, catching me off guard. "How do you find meaning in your life?" I asked her.

"For me, it was easy," she said. "I received my calling when I was young. For others? I don't think there are any easy answers to that. You can't create meaning out of thin air, Solomon."

"I know," I said, feeling helpless. "I suppose I was just hoping your perspective might have given you some magical solution I'd never thought of before."

"I can't make you feel that your life has meaning," she said. "That has to come from you. What I can tell you is that I enjoy talking to you and I'd like to see you back here sometime so we can talk again. You can keep going for a few days for that, right?"

"I'd like that," I said, and it was the truth. Short of true friends on this luxury floating prison, I genuinely wanted to talk to her again, and I hoped her friendly nature was not just an act—a job requirement.

"Right now, though, I have to go and get ready. I was preparing for mass when you came in, since it's starting in fifteen minutes. You're welcome to stay, if you like."

"I would," I said, "but I need to get back to work. I'm sorry."

"Maybe another time," she said. "I hope you feel better."

I gave the pale priest a smile, and somehow I did feel better as she retreated back behind the curtain she had entered through. I sat where I was for just a moment longer, and then went out of the quiet sanctuary, back into the steel and stone corridor beyond. Though I hadn't eaten, I somehow felt more energized than if I had.

I arrived at the staff offices fully expecting to get back to work on the fishtanks with Derek. When I got there, though, all of the hotel workers on duty were clustered in a semi-circle around a stranger in a suit. I'd never seen this happen before, and walking straight toward the group, I felt sheepish—as though I was late for something I'd never known was going to happen. I found a familiar face on the fringes of the crowd, a freckled young woman called Jill I sometimes talked to during security shifts, and nodded a greeting.

"Emergency meeting," she whispered by way of explanation. "They're going to take us down to the main conference room in a few minutes. Something big is happening, it seems. This guy is some government worker."

I raised my eyebrows. I couldn't think of a reason the government would want to speak to all of us. I wondered if we were in trouble over something.

"I can't tell you anything myself," the man was saying over the protests of the workers nearest to him. "I'm not authorized. I just need you all to make your way down to the conference room now. We're going to be meeting up with some other people who need to be briefed, too. Just be patient for a few more minutes." He turned and left the room, and the crowd of hotel security guards and maintenance workers trailed after him.

I walked with Jill. She was very short, and she struggled to keep pace with my long stride. Her energetic, quick-moved walk made her dark bobbed hair bounce as she moved along beside me.

"I bet it's something exciting," she said with a wink. "Maybe the president is coming to stay."

"Maybe he is," I said, amused by her cheerful patter. "Perhaps they're going to make sure we all know how to be properly polite."

"I can be courteous and charming with the best of them!" Jill insisted. "I think I'm doing all right."

"I'm sure he'd like you," I said.

The double doors to the conference room were ahead of us, and the government worker pushed them open and walked inside. Over the heads of the crowd flowing through the doorway I could see that there were already a number of people inside.

The conference room was very large with amphitheater-style seating. Like all areas of the hotel it was lavishly decorated, with red cloth draped around the walls and burnished bronze accents. The seats were the standard pull-down style, but comfortable and expensive-looking. I slipped along an aisle near the back and settled into one of the chairs. Looking around the room, I tried to identify the groups of people who had been summoned. There were many people in suits—some I recognized as hotel executives, and others I did not know. Others were dotted here and there in ordinary or more elaborate clothing. My eye was briefly drawn to a beautiful woman in a long green dress. She was near the back too, only a couple of rows ahead of me, and sat high in her chair with a slight condescending smile on her face as though she was amused to watch all of us scurrying around. After a moment, she turned to face me. She gave me a hard look, right in the eyes, and then smiled. I was embarrassed to have been caught looking at her, but I could not bring myself to break her gaze.

"Your attention please, ladies and gentlemen." A smartly suited man of late middle age was standing at the front of the conference hall wearing a microphone headset.

Thank God. I snapped my focus away from the woman in the green dress and looked down at the man who would be briefing us on whatever it was that was going on.

"I'm sorry to pull you all away from whatever you were doing," he said, "but we felt that it was very important to get this message out."