Chapter Four: Fours Years Later...

Chapter Four: Four Years Later

            The rooftop of the Tipton Hotel had not been cleaned since the Gozer Incident.

            No janitor—not even poor Arwin, who still suffered from post-traumatic stress—had the courage to go up there.

            All of the suites from 2330 (the former suite of Carey Martin and her twin sons) and above were abandoned, being so close to the scene of the incident. Although the Martins still live at the Tipton, they never dared themselves to return upstairs; only Cody and Zack dared each other at times, just for no apparent reason.

            One particular evening, Arwin and Mr. Moseby had to go up to the rooftop to install a new state-of-the-art, larger-than-life, and any-other-cool-phrase-with-hyphens-in-between satellite dish. It was received in the mail on Mr. Tipton’s request for London to have a thousand more channels. Mr. Moseby wanted it on the rooftop as soon as possible.

            Of course, Arwin’s fears got in the way of this hardly simple task as he told Mr. Moseby in the lobby, “There’s still a lot of creepy stuff up there, sir. It smells bad, too. Year-old marshmallow residue…all over the place!”

            “I have a cleaning crew being sent up there to take care of that foul mess,” assured Moseby. “They’ll be up there with you.”

            Arwin was relieved. “Oh, that’s good. For a second there, I thought I was gonna be all by my—”

            Suddenly, the phone at the front desk rang and Moseby answered it.

            The voice of a cleaning crewman was on the other end, giving Moseby some news that neither he nor Arwin appreciated: “What do you mean you won’t be cleaning our rooftop?” He listened to his answer and frowned. “Because of what happened four years ago up there? Well, that’s hardly any reason to…” He was perplexed to hear a dial tone in the midst of the call. “Hello? Hello?!”

            Arwin felt like he was going to pass out with crippling fear; he composed himself once he noticed London Tipton coming towards him and Mr. Moseby. Once she saw all of the cardboard boxes sitting around, each with the brand name to the dish printed on them, she clapped her hands together and jumped up and down in excitement.

            “Yay, Daddy! He got me my plate!”

            Dumbfounded, Moseby politely told her, “I believe it’s called ‘dish’, London.”

            “But it doesn’t look edible,” she said.

            I give up, Moseby thought, as he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

            “If I go up there on that rooftop, I might be edible to those ghosts,” the trembling Arwin uttered.

            Moseby threw his arms up in frustration, as he walked around the front desk and faced Arwin. “Alright, that’s it! I’m going up there to the rooftop with you and going to show you that there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of!”

            London raised her hand up high, while jumping up and down repeatedly.

            “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Can I go, too? Can I go, too? Can I go, too?”

            “Aren’t you afraid of going up there, London?” Arwin asked her.

            London scoffed. “I’ve been on enough jets to not be scared of heights, Arwin.”

            “But that’s not…” Arwin began, but he stopped when he felt Mr. Moseby tapping his shoulder.

            He whispered to him, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

            Arwin frowned in confusion. “W-Why would I?” Moseby stared at him for a long moment, until Arwin finally figured it out. “Oh! You meant London!” Mr. Moseby smiled and nodded in sarcasm, while Arwin again sighed with relief.

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            The rooftop looked as if a massive flock of pigeons had flown over and let loose.

            Covered entirely with a white, hardened substance that used to be marshmallows, it was sticky and almost difficult for London, Arwin, and Mr. Moseby to walk on.

            “This is so gross,” London dreaded, before slapping Moseby across the arm. “Moseby, why did you bring me up here?!”

            Moseby rubbed his arm, forcing on a smile in front of the boss’s daughter. “Because you wanted to.”

            “Then why did you let me want to come up here?!” London griped, prompting Moseby to stop for a second to figure out what she just asked, considering how fast she said it and how warped the words were.

            Meanwhile, Arwin opened the cardboard boxes and looked at the billions of pieces for the “assembly-required” satellite dish; for a moment, his mind was totally off of the possibly haunted Tipton rooftop. “Boy, they must’ve been kidding when they said you can ‘put it together in less than fifteen minutes’!”

            Moseby saw the pieces himself and was just as shocked as Arwin.

            “Perhaps we should just hire someone to put it together. This looks like it could take years doing it ourselves.”

            “No, no, Mr. Moseby,” Arwin protested. “I can handle this. I am a repairman, so this should be like child’s play.”

            “Then should we get a child to do it?” London inquired.

            Arwin and Moseby gawked at her in annoyance.

            She just looked back at them, smiling, not seeing the absurdity of her question.

            Refocusing his attention back on his task (and doing his best to ignore London), Arwin reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

            “At least they included the instructions,” he beamed. “No matter what anybody tells you, things are always easier when there are instructions.” Unfolding the paper, Arwin soon realized that it was as long as him—a huge list of instructions. He sheepishly grinned and added, “Even if they are six feet long,” and then read few lines off the paper, “And in perfect Japanese.”

            “Oh! Japanese! I can read that!” London cheered, hopping over to Arwin and taking the instructions out of his hand, staring at them for a very long time.

            Quickly turning impatient, Moseby lifted his arms apart and asked, “Well? What does it say?!”

            “I don’t know,” said London, a dimwitted smile still showing on her face.

            “You said that you could read Japanese,” an irritated Moseby indicated.

            The smile faded from London’s face, frowning at Moseby. “Well, duh! What do you think I’m doing now?”

            Moseby and Arwin shook their heads in disgust. “London…we thought you meant that you can translate what it says,” the former simplified.

            “Don’t you need the Internet for that?” she responded.

            Again, Moseby shook his head, feeling like he was wasting his whole time. “I’m calling a professional to handle this,” he decided. “It’s clear that you two don’t have the brainpower for it.”

            Moseby attempted to leave, until Arwin ran in front of him and blocked his path.

            “Mr. Moseby, please! I’ve worked with enough hardware around the hotel to at least guess how this one works. I can really put it together in less than fifteen minutes. Just…give me a chance.”

            Moseby saw the desperate look on his face and knew that he would never live with himself if he didn’t at least give his employees one chance at something. He often did, and sometimes they would have proven themselves worthy afterwards.

            So, he shrugged and told Arwin, “Alright. I’ll let you give it a try. But only for fifteen minutes. If you go past even sixteen, I’m heading downstairs and calling a technician.”

            Arwin, extraordinarily pleased, got down on his knees and wrapped his arms around Moseby’s legs. He wept heavily as he thanked him repeatedly. “You’ll never regret this, Mr. Moseby! I swear I’ll make you proud!”

            Moseby felt himself becoming wobbly with Arwin’s grasp ruining his balance; but, if it weren’t for the person who came up behind him and gave an additional hug, then he would’ve fallen.

            However, he soon realized that person was London, who—for some strange reason—was hugging Moseby as well.

            “I just love group hugs,” she said.

            Looking up at the starry sky above, Moseby pleaded for some higher power to come and take him away and rid him of this crazy life he lived.

17 Minutes Later…

            Downstairs in the lobby, Zack and Cody walked out of an elevator, and the first place they headed was the candy counter where Maddie was currently working. When the Martin twins approached her, she was reading an article posted in the week’s newspaper about a story printed in the previous year. That day marked the first anniversary of the story, and Maddie still found it hard to believe, especially after so long.

            Zack walked right up to her and said, “What’s happenin’, baby!”

            Ignoring Zack’s typical adolescent greeting, Maddie decided to share the newspaper article with the twins. “Did you guys know today is the first anniversary of when they split up?”

            Although Zack was totally lost in the dark on what she was talking about, Cody instantly caught her drift: “I know. It’s terrible how they would just end something that great. I mean, they’re the greatest thing that has ever happened to this city.”

            Zack was about to ask a question until Maddie spoke first, “I know! Of course, business has been slow as of late, and not too many people need them like they did back then. Still, they’re the coolest group I’ve ever seen. And I still miss them.”

            Again, Zack tried to make a comment; but his brother robbed him of that opportunity: “It felt like only yesterday when they came here,” he said, and then realized, “Oh, wait! It was yesterday! One of them stopped by and asked for directions!”

            “And bought candy from this shop,” Maddie sadly added.

            “And signed autographs for all the fans.”

            “And…”

            “HOLD UP!” Zack yelled, catching the attention of most of the guests in the lobby. “Could one of you tell me what the heck it is that you’re talking about?”

            Before either Cody or Maddie could answer, a collection of ear-piercing screams bellowed from the elevator, just as soon as it had opened. The first one to run out was Arwin, who shouted several times, “They’re back! They’re back!” He was on his way out of the building, shoving several guests aside and knocking a few down in the process.

            Mr. Moseby was the second to dash out from the elevator, heading directly towards the front desk to use the phone. Picking up the receiver, he had the wrong end placed over his ear, but he barely even noticed as he dialed a series of numbers. Only when he didn’t hear any sound—not even a dial tone—did he realize that he was listening to the wrong end and turned it around.

            Finally, London came out of the elevator, not running but walking stiffly across the room, doing nothing but letting out a high-pitched scream. She headed in the direction of the candy counter and screamed right next to Maddie, Cody, and Zack, forcing them to cover their ears. She had done this for nearly a whole minute, until Maddie covered her mouth and stopped her.

            “London,” she said, “I’m going to move my hand on the count of five. And when I do, you’ll stop screaming and tell me what’s got you, Mr. Moseby, and Arwin so freaked out. O.K.?” London nodded. “Alright. One…Two…Three…Four…Five…”

            As soon as Maddie moved her hand, London went into a rapid string of words that sounded a lot like gibberish to Maddie, Zack, and Cody. In fact, if it were put into text (which it can, in this case), it would come out a lot like this:

            “MosebyArwinandIwenttotherooftoinstallDaddy’snewsatelliteplateandsawthis reallyfreakymonsterwithflamesforhairandwantsustobowtohiswillandhandovertheGhostbustersorhewillturnusallintohorribleslavesoftheunderworld!!!”

            And, somehow, after all of that, she managed to let out another long, ear-piercing scream, which Maddie had to muffle again by covering her mouth.

            “Whoa,” Zack said with amazement. “That sure was a mouthful.”

            “I never knew London was capable of that many words at that kind of speed,” an equally astounded Cody reflected.

            Having a huge headache trying to make sense of what London just said, Maddie turned to Mr. Moseby and asked, “What’s going on?”

            “We have another ghost problem, that’s all you need to know,” Moseby fleetingly informed, dialing the same number again and again but getting no answer. “Why in blazes can I reach them?”

            “Who?” Cody asked him. “You mean the Ghostbusters?”

            “No, the Power Rangers,” answered a sarcastic Moseby.

            “YES! OF COURSE I MEAN THE GHOSTBUSTERS!”

            Maddie and Cody shared a worried glance.

            “Uh, Mr. Moseby? You might want to consider someone else for this one,” Maddie suggested.

            “There’s no one else to consider for something like this – not even that David Blane guy, and all he knows is how to stay in one place for twenty-four hours,” Moseby argued. “No, we need the Ghostbusters!”

            Cody hesitated for a moment and then nervously said, “They’re unavailable.”

            Moseby stared at Cody blankly, as he hung up the phone. “What do you mean ‘unavailable’?!”

            “I really think you should read this to refresh your memory, sir,” Maddie handed him the newspaper.

            He took it and read the article that Maddie pointed out to him.

            After spending a moment to realize what he read and remind himself of all this, Moseby dropped the newspaper, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and he collapsed right in front of Zack, Cody, Maddie, and London (who wasn’t screaming so much anymore).

            “Well, I think he took it rather well,” Cody said.

            Zack picked up the newspaper that fell along with Moseby and gazed at the article.

            The heading above it read, “First Anniversary of Ghostbusters’ Retirement.”

            It then went on to a whole retelling of an incident that occurred in December of 2007, shortly after the team defeated a ghost by the name of Vigo the Carpathian at the Museum of Natural History.