Read Online Poet Anderson ...Of Nightmares by Tom DeLonge - Free Book Online Page B

the bed. “Wish me luck,” he said to Alan, and then he turned and walked out of the room, missing the nurse who came moments later with his dinner.
    The Eden Hotel was across town, so Jonas used the bus pass he’d swiped from the nurse’s station earlier in the week. He got off a block short and popped open the umbrella, reciting in his head all of his potential qualifications as his sneakers splashed along the wet sidewalk. When he could only come up with a few, he began reciting the ones he’d lie about.
    Across the street, he stopped and looked at the prestigious hotel. It was a massive stone building that took up nearly the entire block. A burgundy awning led the way from the street to oversized wood doors. The building was, at once, vintage and upscale-modern, familiar and completely new. He tried to find hints of his mother, but found none. Now it was just a hotel. And judging by the cars in the valet line, a high-class one.
    Jonas swallowed hard, adjusted the collar on his shirt and wiped his damp hands on the thighs of his jeans. The hatbox was tucked under his arm, and Jonas considered putting on the bowler, but he wanted to appear confident, not desperate. He was already holding a bag full of clothes. With a deep breath, he hopped over a puddle and jogged across the street and under the awning.
    The doorman watched his approach and then politely came over to take the umbrella. The man glanced at it, obviously recognizing it belonged to the Eden, but didn’t say as much.
    Jonas took a moment to assess the doorman. He was middle-aged with a purposeful five o’clock shadow and a smart black suit with a bright white shirt. Combined with the bowler hat and skinny tie, Jonas actually bought into the look. It reminded him of his father.
    â€œCan I get you a room, sir?” the doorman asked. Jonas’s confidence waned.
    â€œOh, um…actually, I…” He tugged on the collar of his shirt, all of his rehearsed reasons evaporating. “I’m here for a job.”
    The doorman straightened and quickly scanned him. He handed him back the umbrella. “Are you Alan?”
    Jonas opened his mouth and actually considered lying, considered slipping into his brother’s role, but he wanted Alan to get the job back when he woke up, so he shook his head no. “I’m his brother. But I was hoping to talk to the manager about the position.”
    The doorman’s mouth twitched with a smile. “So you’re showing up unannounced to speak with Marshall about a job? For your brother?”
    Well, shit , Jonas thought. Maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant plan . “Is…Marshall around?” he asked, refusing to back down before he gave it his best try. Now the doorman just looked entertained.
    â€œHe certainly is,” the guy said, touching a Bluetooth wrapped around his ear. “This is Hillenbrand at the front door. I have a…” He rolled out his hand for Jonas to supply his name.
    â€œMr. Anderson,” Jonas whispered.
    â€œI have a Mr. Anderson,” the doorman continued, “here to see Mr. Marshall. Unexpectedly.”
    There was a long pause and Hillenbrand laughed. “Yes, seriously,” he said.
    Jonas bit on his lower lip and looked around the street, embarrassment heating his face.
    â€œI assume it’s about the doorman position,” Hillenbrand responded. Jonas glanced at him and nodded, and Hillenbrand seemed pleased with himself. “Thank you very much, Vera.”
    The doorman touched the Bluetooth again and turned to Jonas. “Mr. Marshall will be here shortly.”
    â€œThanks,” Jonas mumbled, feeling cold for the first time since leaving the hospital.
    The doorman turned back toward the street, arms at his side like a toy soldier. He shifted his eyes to Jonas. “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to your brother? We’ve been covering his shift for the past week and