"I could barely wait for you to see it!" she cried with excitement. "Wait till you see the inside! Come on in!"
"If you don't mind," he said, "I'd like to unload the cats first. They might express their emotions in some unacceptable way, if they don't de-coop soon. I'll feed them and then come in to register."
"Do you need catfood? Do you need litter?"
"No, thank you. We're well equipped."
Nick instructed the driver to continue around to the rear and then down the lane to the fourth cottage. The sandy lane was marked with a rustic street sign: PIP COURT. It reminded Qwilleran of a poultry disease and other illnesses, and he inquired about it. The spots on dominoes are called pips, he was told.
The five cottages, hardly larger than garages, were stained a somber brown, and the door of each was painted black with white pips. The fourth cottage was identified with a double-two.
"Yours is called "Four Pips," and it's deeper in the woods than the first three. The cats can watch birds and rabbits from the screened porch in back. Here's the key. You go in, and I'll offload everything."
The doorstep was hardly large enough to accommodate a size-twelve shoe, and when Qwilleran unlocked the giant domino, he stepped into the smallest living quarters he had experienced since an army tent. He was a big man, accustomed to living in a four-story barn, and here he was faced with a tiny sitting room, snug bedroom, mini-kitchen, and pocket-size bathroom. True, there was a screened porch, but it was minuscule and rather like a cage. How could he exist in these cramped quarters for two weeks with a pair of active animals?
There was more. Someone had painted the walls white and dressed them up with travel posters. Then someone had gone berserk and camouflaged furniture, bed, and windows with countless yards of fabric in a splashy pattern of giant roses, irises, and ferns.
"How do you like everything?" Nick asked as he looked for places to put the luggage. "Not much extra floor space," he admitted, "and the place gets a little musty when it's closed up." He rushed around opening windows. The kitchenette was new, he said, and the plumbing was new, although it took a while for the water to run hot. The cottages had originally been built for servants.
"Did I hear a gunshot?" Qwilleran asked.
"Just rabbit hunters in the woods. From Piratetown ... If there's anything else you want, just whistle."
Qwilleran switched on two lamps and mentioned that he could use a higher wattage for reading.
"Will do. And now I've got to take Jason back to the mainland. I'll see you next weekend ... G'bye, kids," he said to the occupants of the portable cage.
They emerged from the carrier with wary whiskers, their bodies close to the floor and their tails drooping. They sniffed the green indoor-outdoor carpeting. They sniffed the slipcovers critically and backed away. Qwilleran sniffed, too; "musty" was not quite the word for the pervading aroma. He thought it might be the dye in the gaudy slipcovers. They really belonged in the grand ballroom of a hotel in South America, he thought.
Before unpacking, he stripped the rooms of the homey touches that Lori had supplied and put them in drawers: doilies, dried flowers, figurines, and other knickknacks. The Siamese watched him until a knock on the door sent them scuttling under the bed. A small boy stood on the doorstep, holding out a brown paper bag.
"Thank you," Qwilleran said. "Are these my light bulbs?"
The messenger made a long speech that was unintelligible to a middle-aged, childless bachelor. Nevertheless, he made an effort to be sociable. "What's your name, son?"
The boy said something in an alien tongue and then ran back to the inn. In closing the door Qwilleran saw a notice nailed to an inside panel, along with a large No Smoking sign;
-
WELCOME TO DOMINO INN
For your pleasure, convenience,
and safety we provide the following:
-
At the Inn
Breakfast in the sunroom, 7 to 10 A.M.
Games, puzzles, books,
magazines, and newspapers
in the Domino Lounge
Public telephone
on the balcony landing
Television in the playroom
Fruit basket in the lounge. Help yourself
-
In Your Cottage
Set of dominoes
Two flashlights
Oil lamps and matches
Umbrella
Mosquito spray
Fire extinguisher
Ear plugs
-
The notice was signed by the innkeepers, Nick and Lori Bamba, with an exhortation to "have a nice stay."
