The Uninvited Guest
Raquel Garcia (8)
October 1926
As the rain ran against the windows, the phone rang–a call that would forever change the rhythm of my life. A familiar voice spoke, “Sidney? Turn on the television now!”
I put the news on. I heard a young lady say, “A man named Marvin Alvin Clark is missing, at the age of 75. Marvin was a well-known President of Tigard, Oregon. He was a highly educated man who lived in Oregon with his wife and four children after moving from Iowa around 1910. The day Clark went missing was on October 30th–a Saturday. He was last seen at a bus terminal in downtown Portland, Oregon, after leaving his home in Tigard, Oregon, to visit his daughter, but he never arrived. Witnesses reported seeing a man matching Clark’s description in a dark suit at the Portland bus terminal on the day he went missing.
As the young woman was talking about Clark, I couldn’t believe what I heard.
Marvin Alvin Clark, my father, was missing.
. . .
My father was supposed to meet me at the Hereford Hotel because we planned it a week before.
He was a Town Marshal of Linnton, a district that was later owned by Portland, Oregon. The last time I saw him was a week ago, when I got married and managed a hotel in Portland. He was partially paralyzed on his right side, possibly walking with a limp and using a cane.
I kept thinking and thought to myself, “Maybe, this isn’t real. No, no, this can’t be real. It just… can’t.”
. . .
I went to the front desk of the Herefold Hotel, (the hotel my father was supposed to check in) and asked the hotel receptionist.
“Hey Rose, can you check if any guests showed up last night?”
“Of course, Sydney.” Rose said. “It seems no one has checked in since yesterday afternoon.”
“No, Rose. Someone HAD to check in last night.” I replied.
“I’m sorry, Sydney. Nobody has checked in. Can I get the name?” Rose asked.
“Marvin Alvin Clark.” I answered.
*Flip! Flap!* “Marvin Alvin Clark isn’t showing up. Maybe they are running late.” Rose said, while trying to find his name on the guest signature books.
“Maybe they are. Maybe.” I whispered to myself.
Rose questioned, “Do you know him or is he a friend?”
“I just wanted to know who checked in.” I said.
“I see. How about this? I will let you know if any Marvin Clar-”
I interrupted, “Make sure it says, Marvin. Alvin. Clark. Okay?”
“Okay…” Rose said nervously.
“Thank you, Rose, and have a nice day!” I said with perkiness.
. . .
I went to the station to ask about reports on my father. I think the man I was speaking to at the police station was called Kyle. He looked about 20 to 30 years old.
Kyle told me that there were no reports about Clark.
But when I asked the other officers about the report, they said, “About Marvin Alvin Clark? Yeah, his report is here.”
I found that strange, but I didn’t want to mention Kyle’s name to the officers because I wouldn’t want him to get fired or something. Maybe I’m overthinking it because my father went missing yesterday apparently.
. . .
After I got the report, I went to dial my friend. (The one who called me in the beginning). “Hey, I got the report about my father.”
“Syd, another person went missing again! That’s twice this week!”
“What do you mean by another person? When did it happen?” I questioned.
“Last night.” She told me.
“Were there witnesses?” I asked.
“Some people said they saw a man who had dark brown hair.” She replied.
“Did they get his name?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
Dang. Another one? You can basically bet money that another will go missing tomorrow and you will win.
. . .
After the call, I kept thinking, “Maybe I should go back to the station and actually mention Kyle’s name.”
When I arrived at the station, I saw the officers I talked to the other day. But I didn’t see Kyle. Anyway, I went up to them, “Excuse me, do you remember me asking about Clark?”
One of them said, “Oh yeah, the one with the report. What about it?”
“I just was weirded out the other day. The man I talked to told me that there was no report about Clark that same day.”
“DId you get their name?” asked the other officer.
“Yeah, but don’t fire him or anything. Maybe he got the wrong name. Okay?”
The officers answered, “Okay… now what was his name?”
“His nametag said Kyle.” I told them.
“Kyle? We don’t have a Kyle. We’ve never had one.”
“Then, who did I talk to the other day?”
They looked confused and said they were going to handle it. The men asked me to go to a waiting room. When I was in the room, I heard screams. They were kinda muffled. It happened almost every 2 seconds.
1..2.. scream! 1..2.. scream! And so on.
I knew I had to hide, so I found a room that was filled with smoke. It smelled disgusting, almost like rotten things in that room. Then I noticed something. I saw hands, arms, legs on the ground. “Are these humans? Are they alive?” I thought.
There were like four unalive bodies in that room. Then I saw the most horrifying thing.
Marvin Alvin Clark, my father, was one of the four, dead.
I didn’t have time to mourn for my father. Then I heard someone banging on the door, trying to get in. I knew I had to get out of there. I tried to sneak out the window. But it was too late. I saw Kyle with a weapon in his hand, grinning and looking at me.
I saw him in total fear. I panicked and grabbed a weapon. I ran into him.
. . .
I unalived a man. As I picked up a weapon, the man looked right at me. If I didn’t pick it up, I thought he would somehow end me. That man looked terrifying. I didn’t even know him.
Why did he…
I had no choice. I didn’t mean to murder him. I was scared.
. . .
I called for help. I told them everything that had happened.
They took me back to the scene. And the man was no longer there.
There was no one there.
Took me back home, told me to leave the rest to them, and went back to investigate the scene.
. . .
It’s over. It’s all over. I’m tired after all that happened.
Now, I can finally rest in peace…