(A multi-part story based around an actual red light switch. Note that the switch definitely wasn't as interesting as this one was, I just decided to use it as a basis for a short story.)
I sat on the bed in the Embassy Suites. The room around me wasn't anything like any of the rooms I've ever stayed in before. This particular room was like a living a "living room" of sorts, with a TV, pull-out couch, chair, desk, and closet. Through the door next to the chair, I can see a slice of the Kitchen, complete with all the appliances, but no dishes, pots, pans, or silver.
I sat, toes tapping on the floor beneath the bed. My legs were too long to swing under this one. Mom was taking a long time to get the two toddlers ready to go to the restaurant downstairs. So I went through my list of the things I do every time I'm in a hotel. Bags in? Check. Soap in the bathroom? Check. Bed arranged? Yep. Lightswitches... Ah! There's something I can do!
I bolted up, getting all of my energy mustered for the one thing my mother lets me get away with in the hotel rooms. We stay in them a little more often than I'd like, usually on the road for months at a time. My mother calls it wandering, but I really know it as "running away from the family." This time, however, we were out for a reason. My cousin, Jennifer, was graduating from high-school. This trip had a little more purpose behind it, so for some reason my enthusiasm for checking out the hotel room had been subdued. I went into the kitchen, flipping on the light switches one-by-one, checking to see what each one did. There were four in this room. Two by the door, and two by the sink. The two by the door controlled the two ceiling-mounted lights that lit the spacious kitchen area. The top switch by the sink, a light mounted below the cabinets, the bottom, the disposal. This process continued throughout the rest of the suite without consequence until I went snooping around in the living room for the switches in there.
I'd gone clockwise around the suite, my routine to make sure I didn't miss any. The lights in the living room were on a boring dimmer switch instead of a regular light switch. Everything was normal until I spotted one last switch, hidden behind the TV. This switch was mounted on the wall at about eye level. It appeared that the switch had once been in a double power box, the kind that could hold two different switches next to each other. This switch didn't have a mate, however. Instead it appears that the maintenance team had fashioned a cover to hide the open switch-slot. It also didn't appear to be your standard, run-of-the-mill light switch. It was red.
Now at first this didn't stop me. Okay, so they only had a red light switch left in the shop, no big deal, but I wasn't so easily convinced the second time I glanced at it. This light seemed fishy... It was mounted in the wall just like every other switch, but it seemed somehow intentional. My mind was racing, could it have been anything dangerous? What if the light switch was a makeshift replacement for a fire-alarm pull that wasn't labeled? Maybe it was a test switch for some piece of equipment somewhere else in the complex. I looked around and double checked what was in the room.
Everything seemed to be working, the TV turned on, the mini-fridge under the makeshift entertaining sink seemed to be running, all the lights worked, the outlets were all pumping power, there wasn't anything else in the room this switch could operate, but there it was hidden behind the TV, very clearly in the 'off' position.
I reached for the switch again, hesitating slightly, when my mother called out from the other room. "Paul, you ready to go? Let's get this thing over with." she said. Hailing me away from my new obsession.
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