Page 65 of Hunter's Hidden Camera
“Yes,” says Twyla.
The woman turns to me and Oscar. “You gentlemen have been quiet.”
“Oh,” I say, “we’re just looking forward to this. That’s all.”
“We’re in college,” says Oscar.
The woman scrunches her eyebrows at Oscar’s comment. “Good for you. But I didn’t ask. I’d like to know: do you two agree to follow the rules and comply with all requests made by the experience architects?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Okay,” Oscar says.
“Now, what experience would you like tonight?” the woman asks.
Oscar and I look at each other, trying to make sense out of everything with what little information has been given to us.
The woman extends her right arm, palm up, gesturing towards the entrance to a long hallway. “Are you interested in experiencing Warm Climate?”
I try to peer down the hallway. It looks empty.
The woman then extends her left arm in the direction of the hallway on the other side of the reception counter. “Or are you interested in experiencing Scorching Heat?”
The other hallway looks equally empty.
“Or would you like to experience both?”
Twyla chuckles. “Do we look like a bunch of amateurs? Both of course!”
“Good choice,” says the woman. “That will be one hundred dollars each.”
“Damn!” Oscar blurts out.
Twyla pulls a wad of folded-up cash from her front pocket.
I get out my wallet. Since my secret stash of money was stolen from my room, I haven’t been able to replenish my cash on hand. I only have a few tens and a couple fives.
Oscar is holding a crumpled one-dollar bill and looking at me.
“Shit,” I say to Twyla. “We didn’t get a chance to stop by the ATM.”
“I got you two.” Twyla peels a couple of extra hundreds from her wad and hands them to the woman.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll pay you back later.”
“Yeah, thanks,” says Oscar.
“Don’t worry about it. Last time, you treated me to drinks.” Twyla winks. “And other fun substances. So I owe you. Plus, it’s just good practice to take care of movers and shakers, take care of big shots like you.”
“Left wrist please,” says the woman.
She presses a stamp against all our wrists, leaving the image of a black thermometer on our skin.
“I need your cell phones please.” The woman holds out her palm.
Twyla surrenders her phone, and I do the same.
Oscar holds onto his. “I feel naked without this though.”
