Brigantine Hotel
before the casinos
she stood proudly on the beach alone
fifteen stories of brown brick rising above everything else
her glory days were long past
weeds grew through cracks in the parking lot
the huge lobby was still elegant
tall ceilings with ornate plaster moldings
shiny marble floors and a sweeping staircase
but the furnature was old
and the staff reduced to one grandmother reading the afternoon edition of the Atlantic City news paper
she sat behind the beautifully carved wooden desk and looked up when I approached
“Yes young man, what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you could please help me find my way back to my aunt’s house. I went riding and all the little houses look the same.”
“What’s her address?”
“Well ma’am, that’s the thing, I don’t remember.”
“Hmmmm... A mystery to solve. Don’t worry son, this is a small island. We’ll get you back to your aunt, one way or another.”
“Thank you ma’am.”
“No problem, that’s what I’m here for.”