I didn’t see the blood on my pillow at first. 

The awful, sinking realization that I had missed my plane... was slowly settling over me. (Eyes... following me)  It was my habit, from countless business trips, to set the alarm on my phone to wake me at 6:00 AM. What happened? The fact that it was now shortly after 1:00 PM, and that I dimly remembered (stop... please) that I was supposed to have been on a 9:35 AM flight back to the United States, was only part of my growing astonishment.  

The wrongness associated with my returning consciousness... was coming from a man in a hotel uniform (eyes) who was in my room and standing over my bed.  He had apparently awakened me and, in so doing, had scared the shit out of me. For a moment I was literally frozen in fear and confusion.  I didn’t understand why he was there. (No)  I didn’t recognize him... and he was standing entirely too close.  

In broken English, laced with what I had come to recognize as a thick, Portuguese accent… the man was trying to apologize as he was backing up toward the door.   He only stopped when I angrily demanded an explanation. (Get away from ... me) I was stunned as he explained that repeated phone calls and loud pounding on my hotel room door had failed to wake me up! 

The front desk had first tried to contact me when the limo arrived at 7:15 that morning.  I had not come down and they could not reach me, so the driver left. After that, they had called my room again when I missed the 11:00 AM check-out.  Likewise, no one had answered when the maids had knocked on the door on more than one occasion   He had finally been sent to check the room with a pass key if I still didn’t answer.

It quickly became obvious that he was as frightened as I was.  I think he was relieved when I ordered him to leave the room.  

As I jumped out of the bed, the whole room upended and I stumbled against the desk. (Eyes) I grasped the edge of the desk tightly to keep from falling over.   My body felt weak and dizzy, and I was more than a little sore.  (No... don't!) Very little made sense… other than I needed to steady myself.  

In addition to having missed my flight, I was naked and cold. Very cold.  In fact, I was shivering. (Hurting me... get back)  Having already missed all of my morning deadlines… I crawled back under the covers for a moment to compose myself.  

That’s when I saw the spots of blood on my pillow.   It would not have been of major concern if I hadn’t immediately noticed that there was even more on my sheets.  These weren’t just tiny spots either… someone's blood had been spilled.  It didn’t look like a crime scene, of course, but it was enough to startle me because I didn’t know anything about it.   I wondered if that hotel bellman had seen the blood on the sheets before his hasty exit?  

There was something that I needed to remember… but it wasn’t coming to me.  

I jumped up and put on a hotel robe before checking myself in the mirror.  (Please stop) Bewildered… I could see areas of dried blood-smears on my neck and down the front of my chest. There were also painful bruises on my neck and on the inside of my elbow.  “Where nurses typically draw blood” I thought to myself. Something told me to keep looking, (eyes) and sure enough, I found yet another large bruise with the accompanying dry, smeared, bloody stains on my inner right thigh.   “What the fuck?”

The extra-loud ringing of the telephone startled me badly.   (I had slept through that?)  I just stared at it for a moment, enduring a fresh bout of shivering, before answering on the fifth ring.  

“Hello” I said softly and without enthusiasm.

“Mr. Harp?” said a hesitant male voice.  This was not the man who had found me still asleep in my room.  This voice had far less accent.  “Mr. Harp I am very sorry to disturb you, but are you alright senhor?”

“Of course I am all right," I said with far more conviction than I felt.  "I’ve apparently overslept.”  I was still being curt and angry… because I was too confused to understand what was happening.  I was also more than a little afraid.  

“I hope you will understand, senhor, but we received complaints from other guests on your floor last night.  There were reports of loud voices and screams. When you did not arrive for your limousine, we were concerned” the voice said patiently.  “And just now, when we were forced to awaken you....” the man hesitated as he searched for the words.  “Senhor, we are concerned about your appearance.  Have you been injured in any way?”

The bloody sheets and stains on my neck and chest had obviously not been lost on the man who awakened me.  That was probably why he was so anxious to get out of here.  My continued assurances that I was not injured finally allayed the man’s fears.  I told him that I had cut myself shaving. (Eyes)  In truth… I still didn’t know what had happened. 

I did know, however, that I was still missing something.   Moreover… it seemed that I had forgotten the entire previous night.  This realization struck me like a physical blow.   I had come to Sao Paolo on business.  I had finished my business… and I was supposed to be making the long, return trip home today.   That had left me with last night for whatever entertainment that I could find here in Sao Paolo.   Had I found any?  What did I do last night?  

The fact that the events of the prior evening were completely unavailable to me, unnerved me... because things like this didn’t happen to me.  It was certainly unlike me to sleep so soundly that I could not be awakened by alarms, telephones or people pounding on my door.   I did not drink, so I knew that I wasn’t drunk, although I did have a prevailing headache. I don’t do drugs… although it was not impossible that someone had drugged me.  Someone like who?  And why in hell would anyone want to drug me? 

This nagged at me while I showered and dressed so that I could vacate the room as quickly as possible. I was still in a weakened state and sore all over.   I didn’t feel as cold once I put some clothes on, but the chill never quite left me.  

I could feel the stares of the hotel staff as I checked out at the front desk and checked my bags with the concierge. The Black American had apparently been the subject of some discussion.  Regardless of my dilemma, I needed food.  It dawned on me that I was famished.  

In the hotel café, I was glad that I had buttoned my shirt up to my neck to hide what looked like a nasty hickey, because I was still getting odd looks from the hotel help.  The bruises on my neck, my arm and my leg were still sore, but not that bad really.  After my third cup of coffee and a much larger-than-usual breakfast, I finally felt like I could think again.  (Eyes) With returning clarity … I realized that I had no recollection of such a hickey on my body before this, or of any of the other bruises I now wore, and I didn’t know where they came from.  

Being personally at the center of a bonafied television-type mystery, isn’t nearly as much fun as it sounds.  Especially when you remember that you are supposed to be on your way home to your wife.   I was already late and I had no idea when I could catch the next flight.  As I considered this, something was urging me to move quickly because I really did not want to be in this city another night. 

The trip home was uneventful and uncomfortable. I had lost my business class reservations.  My middle seats were in coach and two of the three legs of the trip were as a standby passenger, but I did get home.  My wife refused to accept my claims of ignorance about the bruises and would not speak to me for a week.  

It would be another month before a major piece of the puzzle fell into place.  

In checking my camera, which I always take with me, I found several pictures of a beautiful woman that I did not recognize.  The pictures, taken in succession, began with her posing fully dressed and they continued until she was clearly naked and smiling seductively from beneath the bed covers.   Although she seemed vaguely familiar, particularly around the eyes, I had no recollection of her at all.  The even more shocking component, however… is that my world seemed to waver once again as I recognized the setting and the deep blue bed spread in these photos.

The images of this woman (eyes) were captured in my hotel room in Sao Paolo… and they were taken with my camera, apparently by my hand.