My sixth journey into The McKittrick Hotel provided me with a treat that I will never forget. I was in a dark forest maze following two nurses closely. One nurse darted off into a window without glass that led into a room of The St. James Sanatorium filled with bathtubs. The other nurse watched between the forest branches along with me as the other nurse contorted her body and, at one point, flipped upside down inside the window frame. Next to us stood a stuffed yak and a deteriorating and chained iron gate (this was a reference to the gate blocking the Manderlay castle as told in the intro to Hitchcock's 'Rebecca'). It was a mesmerizing little scene to watch but, in a flash, the nurse standing next to me started sprinting through the forest as the music became louder and more intense. The music, the eery lighting, and the sight of the nurse dodging the dead tree branches everywhere as I ran after her like a ghost behind my white mask must have looked like a scene out of a dark movie. I kept up the chase at almost a full sprint while darting through the forest maze trying not to allow a wayward branch to take my head off until I saw her standing still on the raised doorstep of a small rundown hut. She beckoned to me as I stood in the trees staring at her. So, along with my racing heart, I slowly walked up the stairs and entered her lair.
She immediately closed the door and the window. I looked around this very small and intimate setting from behind my white mask and saw oddly shaped cuttings of pages from books hanging all over the walls and ceilings. The nurse then got very close to me and stared deeply into my eyes. I heard the sound of thunder outside the hut. It startled me and the nurse took a step closer to me never once breaking eye contact nor did I notice her blink. She removed my mask which left me feeling naked and victim to the emotion and intensity behind her eyes. She then started preparing me hot tea after motioning to me to take a seat on a small chair across from a rocking chair. She handed me the saucer and tea cup and, while I held it wide-eyed, she spoon fed me the tea for about 4 solid minutes and, again, her intense eyes never moved from looking deeply into mine as she slowly spooned the tea into my mouth over and over. Already vulnerable without my mask, I felt like a sick and wounded soul she was caring for with each spoonful of tea that slide down my throat and with every single second her amazing eyes looked through me.
She then folded a napkin and put it on my lap and motioned for me to allow the saucer to remain their on my lap. My hands were noticeably trembling as the psychology of the scene along with her gaze played through my spirit. She noticed my trembling hands and grabbed onto one of them and held it tightly between her two hands. She then leaned ever so close to my face (no more than a foot) and told me this story:
“Once upon a time, there was a poor child,
With no father and no mother,
And everything was dead,
And no one was left in the whole world.
Everything was dead.
And the child went and searched day and night,
And since nobody was left on the earth,
He wanted to go up in to the heavens,
And the moon was looking at him so friendly,
And when he finally got to the moon,
The moon was a piece of rotten wood.
And then he went to the sun,
And when he got there,
The sun was a wilted sunflower.
And when he got to the stars,
They were little golden flies, stuck up there like the shrike sticks among the black thorn.
And when he wanted to go back down to Earth,
The Earth was an overturned piss-pot, And he was all alone.
And he sat down and he cried.
And he is there to this day.
All alone.”
As she told me this sad story, she never blinked. Teardrops fell out of her eyes twice as she whispered the story to me and held my hand tightly..warmly. I had thoughts of loneliness, abandonment, and even my own little boy. The pain communicated with her eyes and with her tears falling caused my chin to start wobbling uncontrollably as I became overwhelmed with emotion. I never made a sound but my eyes and trembling hands could not lie in regards to the intense effect her gaze, her story, and the moment in general was having on me. She finished her story and kissed me ever so lightly to further put me at ease.
In a moment's notice she was then overcome by a force of some sort which had her slowly stretching her body out in the rocking chair. Music slightly off in the distance became louder. The sound of thunder became louder. Then complete silence fell upon us. She slowly got out of her chair, stood me up, and very slowly put my mask on as she gazed deeper still into my eyes. She then put her lips so very close to my ear that I could feel them. She whispered to me, "Blood Will Have Blood, They Say..." She opened the door and I, in a completely bewildered state, walked down the stairs of the small hut and made my way back into the forest forever changed.
