The Window at Cannery Row

Genevieve Stone arrived in Carmel-by-the-Sea and contemplated a return to Cannery Row. She checked into her hotel room, dropped her bags and glared at the view from her balcony. A fog fluttered with affection. Genevieve’s phone vibrated as she glanced and saw her friend’s name on the screen.

“Hello? Hey, Shanel. I just got to my room,” Genevieve said. 

“Gen! Glad you got there safely.” 

“Yeah, it was bit of a drive. I’m settling in, but I think I’ll go explore for a few hours. It’s beautiful here, but I’ll def catch up with you guys tonight.”

“Sounds great!” Shanel said. “It’s been so long, I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other since the move.”

“Time flies. It’s crazy,” Genevieve said, observing the fog outside.

“Let me know when you’re getting ready later and I’ll text you the address,” Shanel said. “Can’t wait to see you again!”

“Same. I’ll call you soon.”

Genevieve hung up, grabbed the keys of her rental car and stepped out into the cool Carmel air. 

The drive to Monterey would only take a half hour—Genevieve soaked in the seascape of the California coast as she dazed out behind the wheel, recalling that eerie Christmas Eve on Cannery Row. Twenty-three years had passed since then, but she still remembered the men in suits she saw that night.

Genevieve was a young girl when her family took a trip to Monterey, Big Sur and Salinas for the holidays. They flew from Maine. Their visit consisted of a lot of sightseeing: driving to landmarks like Bixby Bridge and visiting literary sites that her father wanted to see. The family explored John Steinbeck’s childhood home, making reservations for brunch in its living room before touring the rest of the house. 

However, of all their outings, Genevieve’s favorite was the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Its grand underwater exhibits were incredible. Genevieve saw everything from penguins and jellyfish, to an exhibit of schooling sardines. The aquarium was situated on the famous Cannery Row, the same street where the Stone family would stay for the holidays. Their hotel right beside the aquarium.

A few days into their vacation, on Christmas Eve, it was almost midnight and Genevieve couldn’t sleep—she had the urge to sneak out and explore Cannery Row. Genevieve had gotten used to all the late night walks her family would take on the block and felt comfortable to go by herself this time. She knew all the stores and shops and restaurants, and no fear was present in this little girl as she had been enamored by the bright lights she saw each night.

Genevieve snuck out of her family’s room, left the hotel, then set out with her childish freedom.

She walked toward the aquarium, but she realized no one else was outside. No tourists, workers or locals around. Only her. She had not realized how late it really was until that moment, but she kept walking anyway. The only semblance of life coming from the sounds of ocean waves nearby.

Genevieve noticed a rickety building ahead, then she saw ambling shadows in the nearby alley. She slowed her pace when she heard footsteps approaching. Coming out from the alley were two men who quickly crossed the sleeping street. They both wore suits, attire that stuck out as unusual for this area. The men hurried and entered a towering building across the street, going into a side entrance.

Genevieve felt spooked and decided to head back to her hotel. She ran back, but before she went inside, she turned around and took one last look at the tall building across the street that the two men entered.

On the top floor, she noticed only one window of the building had its lights on. It was glowing with a yellow-red hue. Genevieve walked closer toward the sidewalk to get a closer look. As she stood under the stars, she looked out and focused on the window, honing in on the glow. What she saw in that window struck fear in her.

In the window, more and more people in suits appeared and looked out, staring directly at Genevieve. The suited people had frozen expressions as their eyes pierced at her like bleary bullets. She felt a drip of dread creep up her back. 

Genevieve ran inside her hotel and slept in her parents’ bed. The image of the suited people’s lucid eyes and faces haunted her that night.

That next morning, the Stones packed their bags and continued their Christmas road trip. The girl did not utter a word of what she saw. After a visit to San Francisco, the Stone family flew back home to Maine. Genevieve never forgot that Christmas Eve night and she never thought of going back until she got older. Not until now.

Genevieve finished her drive to Monterey, pulling into Cannery Row and observing its streets as she looked for parking. She found the place still had a harmonious charm to it. The simmering steps of tourists, flocks of flowing seagulls above the sea, ramshackle buildings reminiscent of earlier times. She parked her car, her feet now on the sidewalk and it reminded her of the frantic running she did there as a kid. Genevieve was still curious. Who were those men in suits and what went on in the room of that window? She wanted to go back and see the area one last time.

Her steps drifted as she made her way across Cannery Row, passing through crowds and eyeing each new site on the street. In the plaza was a monument which wasn’t there before. It was a fountain-like structure with several statues perched on tall rocks, each individual representing diverse characters vital to the evolution of Cannery Row. On the very top of the monument was a statue of John Steinbeck, a knowing look on his face, his body set in observing posture.

Genevieve continued and passed by the hotel the Stone family stayed in, then she strolled more and stopped at the rickety building with the alley she remembered the two men coming out of. On the building was a sign: PACIFIC BIOLOGICAL LABORATORIES. Genevieve scanned her eyes from the sign, then across the street to the tall building. The same building she witnessed the suited people in two decades ago. 

She glanced at the top floor window and didn’t see anyone inside. “Of course no one would be there,” Genevieve said to herself, acknowledging the foolishness to expect anything—or anyone—to appear.

She crossed the street and walked toward the building, heading to its side, the same place she saw the suited men enter when she was a kid. She reached for the building’s side entrance door. Genevieve shook the knob and found it unlocked. This is where those guys went, she thought. She opened the door and entered precariously. 

A small hall welcomed her, leading to stairs at the back which she ran to. Genevieve climbed the stairs as it creaked, each footstep feeling flimsy with scents of dust guiding her ascension. Genevieve went higher and higher and finally reached the top. She did not expect to be so deep inside this building, let alone be inside in the first place, but something willed her from within. She noticed her heart beating harder. A big door of a grand room peered at her from the end of the top floor hallway. That’s the room! 

She dashed to the room and she felt darkness despite the sun shining outside. Genevieve got to the door, but instead of reaching for the knob, she knocked. Why am I knocking? After a few seconds of silence, the doorknob rattled from the other side. Someone’s inside! Genevieve thought. She tried to catch her breath as the door opened. After years and years of wondering what was inside this building, she would finally find out. 

The door opened, and Genevieve’s heart dropped. 

“Gen! You’re early!” her friend, Shanel, said at the door. Genevieve was shocked, and so was her friend. “I didn’t know you had this address already,” Shanel said. “I thought you wanted me to text it to you later on? How’d you know where to go?” 

Genevieve felt bleak and speechless. She did not respond and she walked straight into the room, ignoring Shanel, the bride-to-be. In the room, Genevieve saw people in suits and dresses preparing for Shanel’s rehearsal dinner for her wedding that would take place the next day in nearby Carmel.

“Gen! Are you okay?” Shanel asked. 

A yellow-red hue emanated around them.

Genevieve walked to one of the windows in the room and glared outside. The sun turned to night. The sound of seagulls faded and the distant plaza looked empty and bare; the monument she saw earlier was now gone. Genevieve looked out across the street while some of the concerned dinner guests approached her from behind. The only sounds she could hear were from the ocean waves nearby. What she saw next struck fear in her.

A little girl. 

The little girl was standing by herself. 

She was standing near the rickety building across the street, next to the empty alley.

With cold, lucid eyes, the little girl stared at Genevieve, as she felt a drip of dread creeping up her back.