Chapter 4

While Junie drove south, Karissa used Junie’s smartphone to find the cheapest accommodations that also had some positive feedback.

“There’s an old hotel that has pretty good deals for a week,” Karissa announced.

“Give them a call. Use my card to make the reservation.”

Karissa took out the wallet in Junie’s purse. “Which one?”

“The top one on the right. The Visa card.”

“Okay.”

The hotel was clean, but the room proved inadequate. First, it was small, with a double bed filling most of it. Second, it shared a bathroom with the rest of the floor. And to make it worse, some old crazy woman was babbling away in front of the bathroom.

“This won’t do,” said Junie.

“Sorry,” Karissa responded.

“You didn’t know.”

They rode the old slow elevator back down to the lobby. The smiling matronly woman greeted them again.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t stay here,” said Junie.

“But you already reserved it for the week,” the woman replied, keeping her smile.

“Well then, unreserve it.”

“I don’t know...”

“Jesus, woman, we reserved it just today. Just credit my damn account. Is that a problem?”

“It’s already purchased.”

“Then unpurchase it. Or ... look, you’ve heard of robots? The kind on the internet? The reason we reserved the place was because of the stars? How about if you become a one star hotel? Reports of theft, of filth, of fucking rape?”

The woman lost her smile. “Give me your card again.”

“I’ll take the receipt with the credit.”

“Of course.”

“Any place for us to stay that’s affordable and we’re not sharing a bathroom with some crazy woman?”

“Alice,” the woman muttered. “Alice is harmless.”

“But what if it’s a crazy man who isn’t harmless? You know, for two attractive, vulnerable women?”

“There’s a place a couple blocks away. Women only. Are you Mormon?”

“No.”

“I plan to join the Church of Latter Day Saints if that helps,” Karissa told her.

The woman nodded. “And your friend.”

“I hope it’s not a church that lets friends dangle in the wind.”

“I’ll take their proselytizing seriously,” Karissa added.

“I guess it will be up to them. Go right two blocks, then right again. It’s about halfway down the block. You’ll see Sanctuary in big letters.”

“Thanks,” said Karissa while Junie grabbed the receipt from the woman. They both heard, “Bitch” before they exited. Karissa pulled her friend through the door before exchanging insults.

Another smiling woman greeted them from behind a reception desk, this one a pretty, impeccably if conservatively dressed blonde woman in her mid-thirties. The building was similar to the hotel’s, old but well kept, but the lobby was quite a bit larger. A couple blonde girls in their late teens were giggling together on a couch. Another girl looking to be a mix of native and Caucasian passed by them and headed to the elevator.

“How can we help you?” the older blonde woman asked. Though mostly hidden, Karissa sensed her attraction for her.

“We’d like a room,” Karissa said.

“We just have singles here,” the woman smiled.

“It’s a matter of affordability,” Karissa told her.

“We’re funded by donations,” the woman explained. “Through the Church.”

“So whatever we can afford?” Karissa asked.

“Yes.”

“We had planned on spending 300 at a hotel for a week,” said Junie. “But found the place ... inadequate.”

“How was it inadequate?”

“Dangerous,” said Karissa.

The woman nodded. “You plan to stay a week?”

“Maybe longer,” said Junie.

“Three hundred would be an acceptable donation,” the woman smiled. “My name is Theresa.”

“Thank you Theresa,” Karissa smiled at her.

“You take Visa?” Junie asked.

“Yes.”

“Could we have adjoining rooms?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. We’re somewhat segregated. Older women on the higher floors. But we have several places where you can meet up. The chapel for instance, or the dining room. We have a larger room in which our residents can socialize, and smaller rooms for instruction.”

“Instruction?” Karissa asked.

“Like classes. There’s a music room for instance. And regular classrooms, though smaller than a school’s classroom. Oh, and a library, which is where I normally work. I man the desk here in the evening.”

“What is taught?” Karissa asked.

“Depends on the residents. Some share interests. Others are more one-on-one. Our staff can cover some instructions, while others require tutors. For instance, we have a very gifted musician who resides here and can teach various instruments, or voice.”

“Do the instructors reside here?” Karissa asked.

“Some do. Some don’t. I do. I teach scripture.”

Karissa nodded. “Would that be required?”

“It’s highly recommended,” Theresa smiled. “Especially if you reside here long term. Shall I assign you your rooms?”

“Yes please,” Karissa smiled.

After exchanging payment for keys, Theresa explained, “You’ll find the elevator to be only able to stop at your floors once pressed here at the lobby level. And when you come down, it can only descend to the lobby.”

“Pretty specific,” Junie commented.

“We found keeping the segregation between older and younger members necessary,” Theresa shrugged.

Junie hid her disappointment. “Is the dining room open?” she asked.

“For a couple more hours. If you wouldn’t mind, could you head up to your room? I wish to talk to Karissa.”

“Go ahead, Junie,” Karissa told her friend.

“I’ll meet you down here,” Junie agreed. “When I come back down to eat.”

Karissa nodded.

“Follow me,” Theresa said, and Karissa stepped behind the desk and through a door, which Theresa closed behind her. It was a moderately sized office with a desk, which Theresa sat behind, and a couple chairs, and Karissa chose one. File cabinets lined the walls. A laptop sat on the desk. The room was immaculate, with no papers on the desk or anywhere else.

“No one watching the lobby?” Karissa asked.

Theresa pointed to the door opposite the door they entered. “Our security room. We monitor comings and goings. If someone comes in and needs our service, either I’ll be told, or one of the security staff will man the desk.”

“One of them?”

“There’s almost always two. Sanctuary means safety.”

Karissa nodded.

“So,” Theresa smiled, “You didn’t put down your last name.”

“Because I don’t have one,” Karissa told her.

“You have no family?”

“Not really, no. I was a foundling.”

“An orphan?”

“Yes.”

“And never assigned a name?”

“Just my first name. Whoever dropped me off left a sort of nametag on me.”

“And your foster parents?”

“I ... uhm ... remained at the orphanage.”

“Such a beautiful young woman. You must have been a beautiful infant.”

“A staff member of the orphanage took a liking to me. She essentially became my mother.”

“But ... you must have needed a last name at some point. For social security, if nothing else.”

“I’m not registered anywhere. Neither the government, nor any organizations, schools for instance. Even the public library. My tutor would borrow books for me.”

“How could an orphanage keep you from all that?”

“Because it was an illegal operation. It was mostly a brothel.”

“You were raised by whores?”

“Yes, Theresa. One in particular, but I suppose they all had a hand in my raising.”

“Were you a whore?”

“No. I probably would have been, but my sort of mother and my tutor helped me escape. They’re dead because of their help. Your place is called Sanctuary which is what I need.”

“Why were they killed?”

“Because of what I am, I guess.”

“And what are you?”

“Nothing you’d believe.”

“Try me.”

“Theresa, your religion could never accept it. I really am seeking sanctuary. I’m hoping your church will help me with that. I believe, for a couple reasons, that the people looking for me would never look for me here, amongst the Mormons. I know how strong you are, particularly here in Salt Lake City. I’m hoping you’d have a place for a foundling, an orphan who doesn’t exist. I need to exist, to at least have a social security number and a last name and a birth certificate. Think of me as someone who lost all those things, even if the truth is I never had them. If you have problems with the dishonesty of it, just don’t dwell on the absences. For instance, a birth certificate could list both father and mother as unknown. Perhaps Jane Doe as the mother, dying in childbirth. That even might be true. I know my approximate date of birth, and where I was left, of course.”

“You are quite the challenge,” Theresa grinned. “But I do have my connections.”

“I thought you might,” Karissa smiled back. “If we hadn’t stumbled onto your place, I would have sought it. Something like a home for unwed mothers.”

“Which I suppose we are. Both actual and potential.”

Karissa nodded. “I figured as much.”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Really?”

“I had a rather intense growth spurt recently. It seemed to have changed at least my face, making me look older than I am.”

“I’d have guessed at least eighteen.”

“Yeah. My birthday is September twenty-third. They found me just outside Kansas City.”

“Which?”

“Kind of bordered the states. Missouri.”

“The whorehouse?”

“Yes. But please at least make that a lie. If an address needs to be listed, make one up if you can.”

“For your protection?”

“And yours.”

A thickly built dark haired woman entered from the security room. Theresa smiled at her. “I’ll take care of it Phil. We’re done here.”

Phil nodded and returned to her room. Theresa got up and Karissa followed her out of the office. A blonde girl looking somewhat pregnant and distraught stood in front of the reception desk. She didn’t look any older than Karissa. “How can we help you?” Theresa asked.

Karissa saw Junie waiting impatiently for her in the lobby. “Let’s eat,” Karissa smiled.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

After sitting in the moderately sized dining area, with several small tables and a couple of larger ones, with a few women, most of them blonde, eating, and no men, a pretty blonde waitress in her late teens approached them and handed them a sheet. Not a lot to offer and no prices. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

They both ordered sodas.

As soon as the girl left, Karissa said, “Lamb stew.”

Junie chuckled. “So you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Karissa grinned. “It’s actually perfect. How’s the room?”

“Small but nice. We share the facilities, but at least I don’t need to worry about that. There’s a meeting room. A couple women a bit older than me were sitting there studying a bible I think. One of them asked if I wanted to join them. I told them I needed to eat. She invited me to sit with them when I returned.”

“You probably should if you want to stay here,” Karissa advised.

“You’re probably right. But tomorrow I’m going to start looking for an apartment.”

The waitress returned with the sodas, and both of them ordered the lamb stew, waiting for her to leave again.

“I’m going to be staying here for the time being,” Karissa said. “Like I said, it’s perfect. I think Theresa will help me with what I need. A safe identity.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Junie said. “But I guess I understand. When I get my apartment...”

“No Junie. It’s safer if you go your own way.”

Junie nodded sadly. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too.”

“Can we at least meet here while I’m staying here?”

“I suppose they know we’re friends. But if it becomes a problem...”

“Why would you think it would be a problem?”

“Why would you? I’m pretty sure Theresa is already suspicious.”

Junie chuckled sadly. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.”

“Probably truer than you imagine. I think there’s a lot of security cameras here. I don’t know how extensive. If they’re in the rooms. But I imagine it’s pretty extensive.”

Junie nodded. “I’ve noticed a few.”

They settled in. Enjoyed the stew. Junie pulled out a paper she’d bought and looked at employment. “No cell service,” she had told Karissa. “No Wifi I know of. Not even phones in the rooms, although there is a phone in the meeting room.”