Free Poet Anderson ...Of Nightmares by Tom DeLonge Page B

door. “Through there, to your left.”
    Jonas’s emotions were a mixture of gratitude and regret. He hated being underestimated, but more than anything, he hated that he was the one here instead of Alan.
    â€œYes, sir,” Jonas said. He took the key, surprised to find how heavy it was. “I’ll see you tonight.”
    â€œNo, you won’t,” Marshall said, clapping him on the shoulder. “My shift ends at six. Don’t talk to me after that.” He chuckled to himself and started back toward the elevator.
    Jonas waited for him to go, thinking it would be more polite, and once the elevator doors slid closed, he turned and pushed his way inside the old room.
    It was dark, and Jonas felt along the wall until he found the switch and turned on the light. His mouth fell open. It was no surprise this place had been a custodial closet. The room still smelled of cleaning products, which he guessed was better than most things it could have smelled like. The plaster walls were a dingy white with several rows of tile near the sink near the back. An old clawfoot tub looked unfit to wash in, and there was a twin bed with a rusty iron frame.
    Jonas stared so long, he lost track of time and jumped when there was a knock on the door behind him. He turned and opened it, still holding his hatbox and a trash bag filled with clothes. On the other side stood a girl dressed in a crisp white shirt and black dress pants. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she blushed when she saw Jonas.
    â€œWhen Marshall told me he was sticking a poor soul in here,” she said, “I didn’t believe him.” She smiled, unable to hold Jonas’s eyes. “I’m his assistant, Molly.” The girl was small and mousy, not much older than Jonas, but her shyness was endearing.
    â€œNice to meet you,” he said, shifting the weight of the items in his hands. “I’m Jonas.”
    â€œI know,” she said. “And of course, I’m terribly sorry about your brother. The weather on the coast can be unpredictable.”
    Jonas flinched. “What? How did you…yeah…”
    Molly’s gaze darted to his, and then flitted away. “Sorry. I was the one who selected Alan for the job and contacted him. Marshall just told me he’s in the hospital. Anyway,” she smoothed her hands down the thighs of her pants, looking nervous, “dinner’s at five if you’ll be around. If not, we keep the leftovers in the walk-in. They’re labeled. And I’ve sent your uniform to housekeeping for pressing. You can pick it up before your shift.”
    â€œGreat. Thanks,” Jonas said, leaning against the doorframe. “Anything else I should know about this place?”
    Molly looked up at him, pausing long enough to make Jonas straighten. “Sure,” she said, smiling politely. “It’s an old building and the sound tends to travel. So don’t be too wary of things you might hear in the night.”
    â€œUh…” He pulled together his eyebrows, waiting for her to laugh. But Molly nodded politely, and turned to rush down the hallway. Jonas stuck his head out of the doorway and watched after her. Once she was gone, he closed the door and laughed to himself.
    â€œWeird.” He set the hatbox on the nightstand and dropped the clothes in the corner. He took the time to check over the room, glad to see it wasn’t exactly dirty, just old. He went to pause in front of the small glass mirror that had been attached above the sink. His hair had fallen over his eyes and the circles under them had only deepened. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept a full night. It seemed like it could have been years.
    But he was exhausted now. Jonas kicked off his sneakers and fell onto the bed, greeted by the creaking of the wire springs. He lay there, staring up at the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. He slid his fingers into his back