"Welcome to the Jones Hotel." Christian had watched the woman check in enough guests that he picked up her speech. "We need your ID and credit card."
Mercedes smiled at her son's attempt to steal her job, but corrected, "You were supposed to ask if they have a reservation. You'll get another chance soon." She warmly began to chat with the guest, but couldn't resist shifting her eyes to check on her antsy son. She had become accustomed to her son picking up his art bag and waiting out her shift in her office, but that morning, her son rarely gave her the chance to leave his side.
He rocked his stool back and forth until Mercedes rested her hand over his lap to still him. "I ain't gonna fall, Momma." His southern accent grew stronger by the hour.
"You never called me Momma this often- even when it was your only word."
"I like saying it… and I like when you say 'I love you,' " he admitted, trying to bait her into saying the three words.
She raised her eyebrows and rested her hand against his forehead. "Why are you being so sweet today?" She remembered the days when he'd stop her before she got too affectionate.
"You are overcomp- overcompensating," he would say after she'd take an extra hug past his daily changing limit. "Grandmother said so, and when she told me what that meant, I agreed."
That version of Christian was far removed from the kid that sat in front of her.
A man stopped at the front desk and laughed when Christian greeted him. "Hey, Lil Man, your ma finally gave you the hotel?" he teased as he propped his ladder against the desk. He was a professional decorator, and his most famous work was the holiday designs for the Jones Hotel. "I already got some guys working outside. I'll work on the lobby in halves so I can work faster."
Peaking around the man, Mercedes noticed Tank entering the hotel. "Give me a moment, and then I will ask visitors to move to one side of the lobby." She promised his wait would be short.
Christian volunteered to do the job and hopped down from his seat before his mother could comment. As he ran off, his foot was caught by the carpet, and he tripped. He didn't lose much time being down. He noticed his mother frozen in gasp. "Momma, I'm fine!" he shouted before leaving to talk to groups taking up half of the room.
When Tank reached her she passed his lost wallet. "Christian found it… He found a lot of things last night." She had put two other lost wallets in the mail and was hoping someone would stop by the hotel to claim the phone she caught her son playing on that morning.
She leaned into the edge of the desk and asked her boyfriend to repeat his story of the night before. She didn't get any new details. "Christian is so different now," she worried. She pointed out a list of changes. "I know that something is wrong."
He couldn't build up the same troubles. "Maybe the blackout exercised the sixty year old man out of him," he joked. "Baby, You switch on me all the time, but you're upset because it's happening to you. It's in his DNA. It was always going to happen."
The gears in her mind began to turn.
Tank knew what plan was forming but shot it down before she asked. "No," he declared before walking away from her bad idea. He ignored her as she called after him but stopped when she caught the back of his jacket.
"Please don't think I'm crazy." She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. "You know the owner of the lab. You can go to the suite and get whatever you need. I'll pay extra to get the results as soon as possible."
He agreed with a huff, but finished, "I swear, you have nothing better to do with your money." He accepted her kiss then started for the elevators.
While Mercedes spent the day chasing the truth, Sam was dedicated to giving his son his best day.
Sam held the seven year old's hand as they strolled through the dark parking lot up to their building. He couldn't handle the kid's silence. "Did you have fun today?" he asked, expecting the kid to jump into a rant.
"Yes." Christian released the man's hand when they reached the sidewalk. Although his father wanted him to say more, he was silent as they climbed the stairs of their apartment building.
Reaching their floor, he called it safe enough to make another attempt with his son. He patted the back of the boy's head and complemented, "I didn't know you were that good at mini golf. You had a few hole-in-one, right?"
"I call them 'aces.' They're harder to get in the real game. Golf is my grandfather's favorite thing," he admitted, making Sam slow; his father hated golf.
"Every character needs a back story," Sam told himself repeatedly throughout the day. He loved his son's magical imagination. He promised to feed into it because he knew it would take him far. He'd listened to the kid's stories and got to know every new persona… but "Christian" was too different.
After opening the door and taking his son's coat, Sam watched him stroll through the studio apartment and into the bathroom. Regardless of what persona the boy was in, he could never get him to follow one rule: close the bathroom door when you're in there. "Hey, we talked about the door," he called out. He went to close the door and froze at the sight.
Christian was washing his hands WILLINGLY.
The father slowly backed away. "My son has been taken by a body snatcher. He acts just like the ones in the movie. They took him in his sleep. They had to," he reasoned. "Why did they have to take someone so cute… but that's the perfect way to start their invasion- Wait."
He took a deep breath and tried to calm his thoughts and heart. He asked, "If you were a pod person, you'd tell me, right?" They promised to tell the other if they were turning into a zombie or a werewolf, but aliens should have fallen under the umbrella; taking his son's memory, the alien had to follow the rule.
"I don't know what that is," the boy admitted as he exited the bathroom.
The first thought Sam had was joyful that his son didn't know of the horror movie, but the second was "That's what an alien would say." His concentration was broken as there were little taps on the door. He rushed to answer the door, ready to have an extra witness, but what he saw made him turn pale.
It was Captain.
Mercedes finally caught up to Captain and started her warning about running ahead of her as she made the final steps to him. When she noticed the man frozen in the doorway, she pulled the kid close. "Are you Sam?" Her hold softened when he nodded. She smiled as she introduced herself. She explained, "We took home the wrong child yesterday."
"Really?" Sam asked his son. After a nod, he scooped him into his arms. He let out a heavy breath to finally have his hug returned; something he didn't know he'd miss until he had to go a day without.
"I waited for you all night, and then a man took me to her because I look like him," he explained, being unmindful of his finger pointing. The story Mercedes struggled to get, he let roll off his tongue with his father. "She gave me money." He took bills out of his pocket: two dollars for every piece of truthful information he gave the woman.
Mercedes declared that he could keep the money, although Sam ordered him to return it. She peeked past the pair and smiled at her son. She wanted to rush to him, but shyly asked the man for access into his home.
Christian knew his mother would want her minimum of one hug. He kept his arms folded as she squatted to his level. "I thought you left and gave me away," he admitted, filling Sam with regret. He understood that he was there because of Tank's mistake, but couldn't take blame from his mother. "You didn't know that I was gone."
"I noticed- right away," she embellished. Her hand floated out to cup his elbow. "I would never give you up. I need you."
Captain wiggled out of Sam's arms to challenge, "What about me?"
"It would be nice to have you too." She pulled the boys closer and smiled when she couldn't find a physical difference between them. She looked around the small apartment to notice that there wasn't enough space for privacy. She passed Christian his art bag and asked the boys to "stay busy" while the adults talked.
Captain whipped out Sam's phone and led Christian to the kitchen table.
Mercedes carefully removed a folder from her tote bag and followed Sam to the sitting area. "You raised a sweet boy." She forced a stiff smile when the complement was returned. She held the folder in her lap and traced the corner with her finger tip.
Captain didn't have the patience to wait for Mercedes to bring up the topic herself. He announced across the room, "She said that she was my momma." When all heads snapped in his direction, he lowered his eyes to the screen to pretend that he wouldn't listen to the answer.
She breathed a deep breath, taking in the air that had quickly thickened with shock and embarrassment. She shyly called for the man to turn his attention back to her before explaining that Captain, in many words, admitted that he was adopted. She passed him the folder. "When I got suspicious of Captain, I sent for a DNA test." She gave him a moment to look over the paper, but when she noticed his eyes lost in the chart of numbers and codes, she cut through the confusion by pointing at the bottom of the page: 99.9% possibility of relation. "This was rushed, but I'm willing to have a second test done if you'd like."
"So?" Sam dragged, not seeing what could happen afterwards.
"I would like custody, and I'm willing to pay for all-"
He interrupted her with a snicker. To him, life without his son was such a joke that he struggled to keep his laugh in. He poked, "Sure, what's the going rate for kids nowadays."
"We can afford it," Christian argued as he switched coloring pencils.
While Mercedes warned the boys about their behavior, Sam scanned her neatly brushed black hair and her jewelry and expensive clothes that peeked from behind her jacket. He thought she looked like how TV shows dressed kids of senators that graduated as the seventh legacy of the best schools in the country. He couldn't doubt the kid's comment. He believed she could buy Captain, him and his immediate family- but because she could, didn't mean he would let her.
He sternly promised, "You can offer me all the money in the world, and I wouldn't sell my son." He passed the DNA test back as it did nothing for him.
"I'm not buying my son," she huffed, hating how the conversation turned. She sat still as all eyes were shamelessly on her. When she had what she thought were the best words, she began, "The money would be to thank you for caring for him."
"I'm not a babysitter."
"And I'm not a surrogate." Trying to keep some peace, she explained, "I would have never given up Captain willingly. It's confusing to explain, but I-" She was slapped silent with shock when the room turned dark.
Sam warned his guests to stay calm and put as he started the usual steps. He opened the door to let the light shine in from the building's hallway and started down to the apartment manager's unit. No words had to be spoken for the problem to be known.
They took their set of keys and started the trip to the utility room. "The electrician will be here Tuesday." When they were reminded that they said the same thing the week before, they rolled their eyes. "Well, it's still being fixed faster than you pay your rent," they mocked, unknowingly lighting the fuse of a bomb.
"What kind of joke is that?" Mercedes scowled, finally making her presence known. She placed herself infront of Sam, ignoring the detail that she was the shortest of the trio. She started a speech about hazards and mistreating tenants, but her passion grew hot when she was ignored.
"Lady," the manager puffed, "this has nothing to do with you. Go be an activist somewhere else."
Captain stood at the end of the hall and smiled to watch the woman. He had already placed her on the same list of superheroes with his dad. He asked Christian, "Do you think she's my momma? You can be my brother."
He eyed the boy, questioning if a brother was a good gift. He shrugged, "I guess."
Mercedes refused to let the father and son stay in the apartment another night. She ordered the father to go back to the apartment to pack bags and shushed any attempt to argue. "I'll hold the light for you," she announced, pulling her phone out. She stomped away, mumbling about the living conditions.
The Jones Hotel was a 120 room resort that sat on the hill. Only three levels high, the town still could look up to it. It was the place to be for the rich, famous and willing to sell their kidney. Guests were promised that they would never grow bored.
Sam looked across the hotel that glowed in the night, but his hypnosis broke when Captain released his hand to chase after Mercedes for hers. He caught up to the group and teased, "This looks like the hotel from the Shining." He did a Jack Nicholson impression, and while he thought it was his best, the family was too wrapped up to give him attention.
Mercedes moved them through the lobby quickly. She had reserved a room through a phone call on the ride to the hotel, so checking him in was the trade of a key and "Thank you." She reached the top floor, released her son to their suit and walked the last of the group two doors down.
"I can stay with you," Captain volunteered without asking for his father's permission.
"I think you should stay with your dad and make him comfortable sleeping in a new place."
"He can stay too."
She laughed at the kid's quick answer, but her smile dropped when she noticed the man in question's deadpan face and folded arms. Although she hesitated over her goodbye, she couldn't resist cuddling his round cheeks. She passed him the room key and ordered, "Check that the room is up to your standards while we talk."
Sam's arms melted to his side as he stepped closer to her. When she gave him a soft smile, he hated that he couldn't argue that it wasn't his son's; "Someone childsized it and put it on his face," he thought. He searched for more shared features, but when he fell into her brown eyes, he needed a life preserver to pull him away. He was locked in place as he waited to take in what she would say.
"I arranged for you two to stay in the hotel for the week." She explained, "I know a few workers at the Department of Codes and Building Safety. When they order an inspection, they usually find more than just bad wires, and everything is solved quickly. I don't want anyone to think that they can get away with letting a child live in bad conditions."
In her last sentence, Sam swore he found her motive. "This is a trap." The little home he could provide was not good enough, and he'd be an open-and-shut case with Child Protective Services. He was living in her world because she knew all the people that mattered. She could turn a fostering arrangement into an adoption with a snap of her fingers. At least she tried to give them a special week before she took him.
She quickly denied it, but knew his skepticism was reasonable. She had spent the ride back to the hotel thinking logically about their first conversation. "I was so excited to have another son that I didn't think of your relationship. I will not ask for custody again, but I would like to see him once in a while." If she held her breath for an answer, she'd pass out. "I'm free tomorrow. You can come by, the boys can play, and I'll make dinner."
Sam brushed at the hairs on the back of his neck. "It's all a lot to think about." He nibbled at his full, pink lips as he returned to silence.
From her son, she had learned not to pry into others' thoughts. She vowed, "You're in a good place to figure it out. Every-" She stopped when her son called out to her with annoyance; her absence was stalling his night routine. She rushed out to Sam, "All expenses are covered, so enjoy the hotel and relax." She wished him goodnight with a pat to his arm.
After their PJs were on and their teeth were brushed, Mercedes followed Christian into his room to help (more supervise) him as he planned his outfit for the next day. She stopped when she noticed the new toy sitting on the kid's bookshelf. She expected the plastic T. rex, repeatedly pressing the button on its back to open its jaws and turn his tail upward. "Did Sam buy this for you?" Her smile grew at the sweet gesture, but a giggle escaped her when she discovered the patch for batteries that Christian refused to let Sam buy. "He must be really nice, right?"
Christian nodded, but warned, "He tried to hug me more than you do." He took the toy from her hands and returned it to the shelf.
"It's hard to resist. You're too handsome," she praised. When her son finished his task, the mother snuggled him close in bed. She listened to him read his book out loud, but couldn't resist wondering about the man two rooms down that was letting his mind drift to her.