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CHAPTER ONE - Page 9
Omens Of Tragedy
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A terrible feeling of unease washed over me, the same sense of dread I'd felt that morning at the Texas gate, when I'd wanted not to depart. Again I shrugged it off, choosing intellect over intuition -- though with less conviction. Worriedly, we all four agreed: probably the telephone had come unplugged. Or maybe the ringer had been accidentally switched off. Anyway, no need to worry. Finally, the hockey game wound up. We settled the bill and the Armitages suggested we go to a different spot where we could hear a band, maybe enjoy a nightcap.
Dawn and I didn't feel in the mood. We took a rain check and drove back to the Banff Springs. Having dropped our car keys in the night check-in box, as a sign instructed, we arrived at our room and found it pitch dark except for the crimson pulse of a telephone light indicating that a message was waiting. I no sooner saw that pulsing light than I felt a charge shoot through me. Somehow, I intuited that the waiting message was linked to the uneasy feeling that had been gnawing at me all day with such dogged persistence. My intellect responded: Not to worry. It is just the hotel wondering if the room is okay.
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The "Goof Troop" with their fearless leader. | |
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