Bob and Tina’s Rocky Mountain Bed And Breakfast

Jules could smell the hot dust coming off the brakes as she downshifted and leaned hard into the twisty mountain road that beckoned before her. It was a ballet of minute changes in pressure on the throttle, clutch, shifter, and brake that rewarded her with the adrenaline rush of g-forces pushing her back into the seat of the bike with raw, exhilarating power. She hammered each apex, immediately nailing the throttle until the front wheel got light as she quick-shifted up through the gears again barely blipping the clutch. The Daytona Triple was generally considered a “man’s bike”, but being light and fast it suited Jules perfectly. It was the ideal machine for navigating the winding switchbacks on the way down from Mount Evans – in the daytime. But night falls fast in the mountains, and the lights of Denver winked on far below in the shadow of Mount Evans as darkness began to fall on the mountain. The tiny town of Idaho Springs lay right at the junction with I-70, and there Jules could either hop onto the well-lit freeway and cruise back to civilization, or perhaps just lay over in the rustic little town until morning.

“Even tiny towns have a hotel, right?” Jules remarked to herself inside her helmet. She cracked the visor a little as those whispered words immediately fogged on her wind-chilled visor. The cold rush of air stung her cheeks.

“A warm bed and a tall glass of wine would be divine!” she continued silently.

Jules had but a moment for this thought before the road switched back again and the lights of Denver disappeared behind her, leaving only impenetrable blackness ahead.

The chill air and exertion of the day began to weigh heavy on her head, weary from the concentration her incessant pace demanded. Only halfway down the mountain, her drained muscles already screamed louder than the bike’s exhaust for mercy.

As of last Monday, Jules was “self-employed at financial consultant” which was the LinkedIn way of saying she was laid off as a senior accountant. Her bank had been acquired by a rival and the new owners felt no need for the Denver office. Jules and 25 other people were given severance checks and a cookie cutter reference letter that meant practically nothing. As National Account Manager, Jules got one of the larger severance packages, so she put a chunk of it down on the bike of her dreams. She lived alone in a small apartment she converted into a month to month lease after she heard the news of the acquisition six months ago. There was nothing tying her to Colorado anymore, and now she had to consider if she was going to stay here or pick up her shallow roots and start over somewhere else. But in case she had to leave this nature lovers paradise, she wanted to make this excursion to the highest paved road in the state on her new toy. Just Jules, the bike, the pavement, the rushing wind, and the trees glowing in the riotous reds and yellows of early fall. It had been a marvelous day.

It was now too late to race the darkness – darkness had won. This was no longer an exercise in throwing her troubles into a hurricane-force slipstream. Jules backed down the throttle as her sight became confined to the narrow beam of the single headlight. She focused intently on the double yellow lines and followed their lead into the night.

“CRAP!”

Suddenly, a rock the size of a beagle flashed in Jules path. Jules hit the brake and steered the front wheel around it, but the back wheel slid into the rock, bouncing wildly behind her. The bike did a full 360 degree spin and Jules watched it all unfold in slow motion. The violence of the spin bucked Jules off the bike like a crazed bull and she was flicked down the pavement, tumbling over and over until she felt immensely dizzy all the while marveling at how long and how far she rolled.

Jules ended up against the sheer rock wall that had finally stopped her roll where the road curved back the other way. Her bike ended up on the other side of the road at the edge of a steep drop off, only inches away from falling into the forest a hundred feet below. Her leathers were scuffed but not shredded – apparently she rolled more than she slid or she would’ve left a significant portion of her skin on the asphalt. Gingerly, she pulled of her helmet.

“Sure glad I had this!” she remarked to herself. Her shiny new helmet was beat all to hell. While her right ankle felt sprained, Jules was remarkably unhurt considering what her bike and her gear looked like.

After surveying the scene and deciding that her wreck of a bike was far enough off the road (the rock hadn’t moved), she reached for the pocket that held her cell phone and felt nothing recognizable – only shards of plastic and glass.

“Swell!” Jules muttered in a Clint Eastwood tone.

She was now on foot, gingerly hobbling down this dark mountain road. She had no idea how far she was from Idaho Springs, but there was a glow up ahead that she hadn’t noticed until now. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to go far before reaching someplace where she could call for help.

After a bit of walking, “Bob and Tina’s Rocky Mountain Rest Stop” finally beckoned from across the gorge. It wouldn’t be far now.

“God, I hope they have food. And a phone!”

Mentally, Jules started a list - “Let’s see – I’ll need to call Mary for a ride, then Dave to see if we can use his truck to pick up the smashed bike tomorrow morning without involving the cops or the insurance agents. Of course, I’ll have to swear them both to utter secrecy or else my parents will find out and I’ll spend hours on the phone listening to their lectures on how reckless my lifestyle is and that I would be much better off if I would only find a nice man and get married, buy a house, and start producing grandkids…”

Jules was good at making lists. She had lists for everything. She would run errands on Saturdays and she would have a separate list for each store, broken down by aisle if she could. She hated to get halfway through the grocery and find that she needed to go back for something in produce. It was this natural sense of organization that suited her well in the world of banking. But sometimes she wondered if just because you were good at something, whether you should build your life around it. She didn’t hate banking – but she didn’t love it either. As rough as the last mile or so had been, today was still one of the best days in her life. She climbed high enough today to look *down* on a bald eagle circling over the treetops. That was a sight that would be forever burned in her memory.

Beneath the bright neon sign stood a tiny little convenience store with a cottage attached by a tiny breezeway. The single gas pump out front was the old analog type, with the numbers that rolled mechanically as you pumped your gas. The convenience store looked like someone had slapped a new sign on the hardware store from Andy Griffith’s Mayberry. There was a single plate glass window that looked in on a handful of shelves overstuffed with a variety of chips, snacks, and sodas. The cottage looked to be even older. It was petite, but clean and neat and there was a little flower garden out front bursting with white and pink blossoms. It too, had a small hand-painted sign: “Bob and Tina’s Rocky Mountain Bed and Breakfast”. Since the lights were off at the convenience store, Jules pushed the button on the door at the cottage next to the small sign that read “Push for service after hours”.

A cheerful mountain of a woman answered the door. She was easily six feet tall, with rosy checks set on snow white skin, and red hair that was peppered with grey. She wore a frilly flowered apron over a Mrs. Claus body and her green eyes and dimpled cheeks smiled “Hello” even before she uttered the word.

“Hello, dearie! My name’s Tina. Come on in out of the cold! Putting her hand on the small of Jules’ back, she directed her to a little dining room to the left of the cottage door. “I’ll bet you’re hungry. I have a little dinner I can warm up for you. Just go sit at the table there and I’ll be back in the wink of an eye!” and just as quick as the spritely woman spoke, she winked on the lights and bustled her way out the back presumably toward a kitchen tucked in the back of the little cottage.

Jules explored the dining room, with one table and six chairs, but there were six more chairs placed strategically around the room that might be used if adding a leaf or two into the main table. A fire crackled in the fireplace, filling the room with the comforting warmth and sweet smell of burning oak. On the wall was a shadow box designed to hold souvenir spoons from each of the US states. She noted that less than half of them were full.

What Jules didn’t see was a phone. As she started to the front foyer to what might be called the front desk, the woman returned with a tray containing a steaming bowl that smelled deliciously of homemade chicken soup and there were a half dozen little tea sandwiches with the crusts neatly trimmed and each was decorated with a little toothpick garnish of cherry tomato, green olive, or cucumber slice.

“I didn’t know what sort of sandwiches you’d like, so I just whipped up a little of everything.”

Jules marveled at the spread the woman had assembled in less than five minutes. Apparently, Tina misunderstood Jules’ stunned look, because she continued after barely a breath “My gosh! I hope you’re not one of those vegans. I don’t know what I might have that isn’t derived from one of God’s creatures in some way…”

“No – it’s fine. Really! It smells delicious. I was actually just wondering how you did all this so fast! But what I really need right now is a phone – I’ve been in an accident a little way up the road and I’m stranded here.”

“Sorry, dearie!” Tina apologized. “The phones haven’t worked for two days now – there was a storm a couple of days ago that took out a bunch of trees. We were running the generator until 11 o’clock last night before we finally got power back, but the phone lines usually take another couple of days.”

“Don’t you have a cell phone?”

“Never got used to having one of those contraptions. Heard they give you brain cancer. Besides, our guests who have them are always saying the coverage is lousy up here. We just don’t figure it to be worth the bother.”

Tina’s voice trailed off as she once again dashed out of the room.

The faint scent of comfort food reminded Jules she was ravenous. “Might as well eat!” she thought. “But a nice glass of Chardonnay would be excellent!”

A tall, gangly man emerged from the back this time. He was probably about seventy, but he moved with a sinewy grace. He had a full head of silver hair and a ruggedness to his face and hands that implied a number of years spent working outside. There was a twinkle in his eye that marked him a perfect match for Tina. Jules knew this must be Bob.

“I heard we had a bedraggled beauty show up on our doorstep, and I just had to meet you myself! I’m Bob!” he bellowed. Perhaps the only sign of his true age must be a bit of deafness – his voice was almost uncomfortably loud.

“I see Tina set you up with some food – is there anything else I can do for you?”

“A white wine would be nice, perhaps a Chardonnay?”

Bob roared with laughter like he’d just heard the funniest joke. Jules didn’t understand.

“We haven’t had wine up here since the world was supposed to end back in 1999!” Bob explained. “We don’t ever get a lot of visitors, especially after the road closes for the winter so it’s not worthwhile to maintain a liquor license. But Tina keeps a little champagne tucked away for herself. You should ask her if she’s willing to share.” His little wink told Jules that all she had to do was ask.

“I heard you had a little accident. Tina discussed it with me and we’ll put you up for the night and then I’ll hitch up the wagon and we’ll go get whatever personal belongings you have in your car and bring them up here in the morning before the next front comes through. If it drops as much snow as they’re saying, we may be real close friends for the next few days before the roads are passable.”

“I guess I wasn’t clear – I was on a motorbike. But I do have a driver’s license and a credit card locked in the seat. I wasn’t expecting to stay anywhere tonight.” Jules could kick herself for not bringing them with her when she started walking. But she was sure that all she needed was a phone at the time.

“Come with me, and I’ll set you up in one of the rooms. Tina will pass by to check on you.”

Bob lead Jules through the little door in the back, and Jules saw that the kitchen was off to the right, and there were perhaps five doors on either side of a short hallway that must be the guestrooms. “Right now we have five rooms and five vacancies. So I thought we’d put you up here in room number one, closest to the dining room. Make yourself at home and I’ll go let Tina know where you are.”

The room featured a single queen bed, and a tall, stained walnut chest of drawers against the wall. The furniture was simple, solid, but from a bygone era. Heavy woolen drapes with a simple woven plaid design covered the windows, and there were two lamps in the room – one by a writing desk with a single wooden chair, and the other on the nightstand by the bed. A peek into the bathroom was a glimpse back in time. Jules marveled at the deep, claw-footed tub that was the centerpiece of a sparse but elegant room fitted with white tile and a lavender fabric wallpaper adorned with tiny winged cherubs. Overhead were white tin ceiling tiles inlaid with tiny little mirrors that scattered the light from the single tiffany-like glass globe in the center of the room. Bathed in the warm, even light, Jules marveled how it complimented her skin give or take a few bruises beginning to show. The big one below her left shoulder blade was going to be particularly colorful by morning.

Tina burst through the still open door with an armload of clothes. “These look like they will fit you. People leave stuff behind all the time, so we just clean them and put them aside for guests who may have forgotten something.”

Jules’ eye was drawn to an elegant, floor-length nightgown complete with pink chiffon, lace, and a matching robe that could have come straight out of Grace Kelly’s wardrobe.

“Well isn’t this fabulous!” Jules exclaimed as she held up the exquisite gown. “If I’m going to wear a movie star’s negligée I simply MUST have a glass of champagne as well! Would you mind sharing a little?”

Tina looked surprised.

“Bob told me you have a little stash.” Jules smiled. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. You’ve been so kind to me already…”

“I think I have a bottle I can spare. I’ll be right back.” And Tina was scrambling off again.

Jules started some water in the tub, eagerly anticipating a long, hot soak. She explored the drawers of the dainty little vanity table in the corner next to the sink and found a fresh loofah sponge and a bottle of “Desert Flower” bubble bath that smelled heavenly. “All I need is a masseuse to work these kinks out, and this would be a glorious spa vacation, give or take a motorcycle crash!” she mused.

Tina returned with a crystal flute, fresh strawberries, a plate of cheese and crackers, along with the promised champagne. They were all artfully arranged on a shiny silver platter that she set on a tiny wooden stand. Curious, Jules cocked her head to read the label – it was a Taittinger Rosé. Tina deftly popped the cork into a starched white towel, and poured a glass of the decadent bubbly “attitude adjustment”. The freshly poured champagne blushed with a lovely shade of pink that matched her nightie perfectly.

“Thank you – this is exactly what I need right now!” exclaimed Jules.

“You’re welcome, dearie!” Tina smiled with delight, and disappeared once more.

Jules dropped a strawberry into her glass and took a few seconds to enjoy the explosion of tiny bubbles that erupted in its wake. She set the tray within easy reach of the tub, hung up her robe, and slowly lowered herself into the warm, fragrant bubbles. The hot water dissolved her aches as Jules sipped from her elegant cocktail, holding her pinky out in a suitably snobbish fashion. A soothing wave of relaxation washed over her.

The Dream.

A she drifted into slumber, little flashes of light exploded on the edges of her vision as her eyes adjusted to a dim garden exterior. The scene slowly came into focus, and Jules realized the flashes of light were reflections off a vintage mirror ball hung from a giant live oak that spread across the entirety of a French Quarter courtyard. As more of the scene materialized, she was sitting at a bar while a bartender idly washed glasses, rehanging them over the bar. A rhythmic beat pulsed louder and louder commanding everyone within earshot to dance with synchronous, wild abandon. Jules’ body swayed uncontrollably with the music and her foot began tapping out the back beat. Spellbound, she was drawn onto the dance floor and she began flinging her body in a savage dance of passionate frenzy. A blur of elaborate Renaissance costumes and expressionless masked faces whirled around her. Rivulets of sweat ran down her forehead and tickled as they ran down her neck and back. Her heartbeat crashed loudly in her ears and she couldn’t catch her breath in the thick, subtropical air. Her eyes were drawn to a pair of piercing blue eyes smoldering behind a black satin mask. As she was drawn deeper and deeper into those unwavering eyes, the people and the noise faded away until she found herself sitting across a linen covered table from her mystery man. Impeccably clad in a 1940’s style black coat and tails, he wordlessly consumed her with those mesmerizing eyes. Their gaze was broken momentarily as a waiter in a starched white coat set a silver covered platter between them, bowed with a flourish, and walked silently away. Mystery man locked his eyes on Jules, and she was captivated once again. An eternity passed before he reached for the platter, uncovering the dish without ever taking his eyes from hers. But the aroma that wafted up from the center of the table was hellish rather than heavenly. She forced herself to steal her eyes from his hypnotic grasp and peek at what smelled so repulsive. She saw that the platter did not contain a decadent dinner, but instead…

Jules screamed, and the dream shattered. Tepid water splashed from the tub as she tried to calm the staccato beating of her heart. She tried frantically to remember what was on that plate that was so terrifying – but there was nothing but a tiny whisper of a memory before it was gone. All that was left was an eerily deep silence, an empty bottle of champagne, and her tiny pool of bath water turned milky white and devoid of bubbles.

Shaking and exhausted, Jules stepped out of the tub and reached for a plush white towel and noticed that it smelled faintly of rose water. It reminded her of snuggles with her grandmother when she was a little girl. Granny Snow mixed her own rosewater and glycerin tonic using flowers from her garden, applying it daily to her face and hands. She had the softest hands…

A shaft of soft orange light leaked in through the bathroom skylight high on the wall behind her and painted the wall with a warm glow. Neatly laid out on the vanity table was a hairbrush, a small tube of toothpaste, and a fresh toothbrush still in the plastic wrapper. “Tina thinks of everything!” Jules thought to herself. “But – was that there last night before I got in the bath?” Those things were not on the vanity table when she looked through it yesterday, so Tina must have put them there later.

As Jules tried to recall if there was a moment when Tina brought the clothes or champagne to the room that she could have set those things in place unnoticed, her thoughts were distracted by the enticing aroma of coffee and bacon wafting down the hall.

“One of the perks of being in room #1 – I’m the first to know when breakfast is cooking!”

Jules dug through the pile of clothes still on her bed, looking for something more suitable for the dining room than the pink nightie she wore for just a few minutes last night. Her own clothes, tattered and dirty as they were, were missing.

“Tina strikes again!”

At the top of the pile was a t-shirt with a huge “I Y L.A.” logo on it. “Perhaps the most fake place on earth!” Jules muttered to herself. She had spent 18 excruciating months there with a boyfriend who dreamed of making it big in the music business. But every deal was lopsided, and promises meant nothing. Eventually Johnny was crushed and working in a car wash while Jules moved back to Texas penniless and alone to live with her parents. The life lectures were interminable until she finished her CPA certification and moved 900 miles away to Colorado. But after a little more digging, she found a dainty little top and a pair of blue slacks that were a bit too loose in the waist, but the length was okay. She slipped on a pair of house slippers that also seemed to fit pretty well, noting that her ankle was bruised all the way down to her heel and her toes were starting to turn green, but it didn’t hurt too much to put those soft, stretchy shoes on.

Jules stepped into the dining room and was astonished to see the table laden with food. There was enough there for a dozen people! It sounded like Tina was working frantically in the kitchen, So Jules decided to serve herself. There was an approving rumble from her stomach as she placed a large Belgian waffle on a plate and garnished it with whipped cream, strawberries, blueberries, and shaved chocolate. She put four slices of bacon on her plate, as well as a heaping spoonful of hash brown potatoes.

“There are no limits on calories or cholesterol for 48 hours after a near-death experience!” she rationalized.

Jules sat at the end of the table where a place had been set for her and began ravenously gobbling down her sumptuous breakfast.

“I guess that storm came in sooner than expected!” boomed Bob’s big voice from behind Jules.

Good thing she wasn’t chewing, because the sudden outburst would’ve caused her to choke for sure. As it was, the bite of waffle balanced on her fork went AWOL from her plate and landed a foot in front of her on the table when she jumped.

“Didn’t mean to startle ya!” Bob added, sounding genuinely sorry. “But we’ll have to wait until this lets up before we go get your things. Let’s hope the power stays on – I’ve got enough gas to run the generator another week, but that’s all until I can get a delivery up here.”

Looking across the mountain of food to the window, Jules saw a wet, heavy snow falling from sullen gray skies, blanketing the ground.

“I wonder what happened to that ray of sunshine that I saw just a few minutes ago?” Jules pondered silently.

“Glad to see you’re still here, Dearie!” sparkled Tina, hauling yet another platter loaded with an assortment of pastries to the table. “I wasn’t sure if you had started down the mountain with Bob already. I made a hearty breakfast for you just in case.”

As she was talking, Tina’s eyes met with Bob’s and there was an unspoken understanding exchanged between them. What had Bob signaled to her behind Jules’ back? During the awkward silence, Jules began to sense there was something wrong here. What had seemed so welcoming at first was now feeling like a not-so-subtle series of manipulations to keep her from leaving.

“Wow! Coffee just runs right through me! I’ll be back in a minute…” Jules said as she bolted back the comfort of her cozy little room. As she threw the door open, she saw the pile of clothes were gone now, but more importantly, the shaft of sunlight still lit the wall with a bright glow. Curious, she pulled a chair over to the skylight to peek at what was outside.

There was a bright light, but nothing more. No trees, no mountain, and no snow.

“Phone or no phone, snow or no snow, bike or no bike, I need to get out of this place! I’ll walk down this freakin’ mountain if I have to!”

Jules went back to the dining room announcing “Bob, Tina – Thanks for everything you’ve done for me, but it’s time for me to go home now. I can hike down the mountain from here – I’m really feeling much better.”

She kept walking, not waiting for an answer as she crossed to the front door and opened it. The same eerie white light was outside this door too. White light, and NOTHING. No flower bed, no Mayberry gas station, and no road.

She was interrupted by Bob’s booming voice from behind her “You’ll be staying with us a spell! I’m afraid you can’t leave just yet…”

Jules considered her miraculous escape from the accident yesterday, and how her injuries looked worse since yesterday, and yet there wasn’t any pain. Now the entire outside world had fallen away, leaving a bright light and a picture window framing a beautiful but imaginary snow scape. Any minute, Rod Serling would step out and deliver his epilog.

Bob and Tina smiled compassionately at Jules as she slowly asked “Am I… dead?”

Tina’s voice was soothing and motherly as she explained “No Dearie – you’re in the in-between. You might call it a coma. You could be with us for a very long time, or not very long at all. We never know. But we try to make you comfortable for as long as you’re with us. None of us will know until it’s your time to either go home or move on.”

This reminds me of the last line of that Eagles song, “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!”

“Oh yes, that was us!” roared Bob, obviously proud of the recognition.

“Mr. Walsh stayed here for a little while after mixing a few too many drugs one night“, continued Tina. “We were sort of famous for a little while there! Of course, they changed the name of our little place to suit the lyrics those other men had written. I do hope Mr. Walsh is doing better these days…”