You decide to try your luck at the Red Berry Inn. The door is on theme- a heavy looking wooden door streaked through with cherry, in a bright contrast to the blue clapboard and gray shutters. The bronzy-looking door handle has twining branches carved into it, the lever is in the shape of a long leaf. It takes you a second to figure out how to even open the thing. The bronze leaf is cold in your palm as you push down and shoulder inside.

The inn is not as cozy as you would have thought. There are hardwood floors in a similar tone to the door that swell into twin staircases directly in front of you. In the center is the front desk, and at the desk is a woman who barely glances at you as you step inside. The overall effect of the room would be grand if the entire place was just a little less... shabby. You see the blue-gray runners up the stairs are stained and frayed. To your left is an empty fireplace that clearly had a fake stone facade added in the 90s. There are two dingy arm chairs and a flimsy looking bookshelf with tattered paperbacks. You spot little piles of dust in the corners. To your right is a small area with a plastic potted plant and a plain, closed door.

You direct your attention to the woman and can't help but be struck by her vibrant, Little Mermaid red hair. It hangs in loose ringlets over her shoulders. She's very pale, but being surrounded by all of the red gives her skin a quicksilver glow. She's quite beautiful. You think she could be Nicole Kidman's second cousin, but her demeanor tells you even if that was true she'd have nothing but dislike for Nicole. As you approach you give her a small smile that she does not return. You notice that her blue-gray dress matches her eyes, along with the decor. You finally reach the desk, the woman having not moved a muscle to acknowledge you.

You broaden your smile hopefully. "Hi. So I'd like a room? Actually no wait- I don't really want a room. I'd like to use your phone?"

You're not sure what about the woman is so unsettling to you that you forgot your goal is to leave, not stay.

She responds in a voice that is quiet and soft, but the way she speaks holds your attention. It belongs to a person who knows she doesn't have to speak loudly to be heard.

"We don't have a phone." No apologies, no explanations.

You're skeptical. You don't see a phone at the desk but she must have one somewhere, or a personal cell phone. "No phone? How do you like, take reservations and stuff?"

Her tombstone eyes sweep toward yours under long, red lashes. Her only movement. "No need. People just come."

You're utterly confused by that but don't feel like digging any deeper. "Look, I've had a really long day and I'm pretty lost, I just want to call my sister to come pick me up."

"We don't have a phone." The woman repeats in the same near-lull. There's no hint of any emotion in her voice, not even boredom. You don't know what to do, but you're not leaving. You blink at her and wait. Finally, she gives you a flick of a smile. "But, we do have a room."

"A room," you repeat. You really just want to go home, but a room would be better than sleeping outside again. "I don't have any money. I lost my wallet and my cell phone."

"Our rooms cost money." The woman's voice has almost no inflection. She sounds like she's reading from an Intro to Business textbook. "If you can find some, or something I deem of good value, feel free to return."

You think about trying to persuade her, but can tell from her face you'd be wasting your breath. You nod at her and turn back toward the door. You think you can feel her eyes in your back as you slink out, but when you glance over your shoulder, the woman is focused on something on the desk.

Outside, you spot the Amish guy strolling his way across the street.