1 - Didn’t know I had an uncle

Samuel Jay

June 1, 2000.

I didn't know I had an uncle. Well, I sure knew once I inherited his hotel.

Evidently, (the will said so, anyway) it had not done well, but it had been his dream and so he gave it to me, to finish what he could not do. Why, I don't know, I'm an author and painter, not a business man. How well have I ever done with people? Not very. How young am I? Very.

I drove up, after an hour trying to find it, the GPS going screwy. The only thing I got was that it was the middle nowhere, which I thankfully did find...eventually. Well, I wasn't leaving anytime soon, but I really should have drawn myself a map. Maybe if I go back and forth enough...

But enough of that. I turned off my phone, or went to, when it suddenly shut off. I paused in the light of the entry way, unnerved, but I hadn't checked the battery before it went off so I don't know.

But anyway, the place looked like something out of an 18th century French palace. I wondered why it didn't do so well, maybe people don't like history as much as they used to or nobody can appreciate real beauty anymore. It looked gorgeously Baroque to me. Real realistic paintings like the kind I strive for, and real chandeliers. Maybe, though growing up poor and living, eh, not so well, I could truly have a change to enjoy real beauty. It would be excellent for my art, which will, of course, decorate the place, maybe an auction or two among guests?

I was staring around, of course, when the staff came up. Or rather, they were waiting for me.

"Good evening, sir," the man at the end of the line said, startling me. I blinked. A real butler! Tails, tiny mustache, and everything...(I can really sell this as a historical experience, I thought).

"Oh, good evening," I said, removing my sun glasses. "Please, do tell me all of your names. You understand I am now your master, I take it?"

"Indeed," the butler said solemnly. He turned to the ruler-straight line of evidently well trained and silent servants, and, in the manner of a herald, slowly and clearly told me their names, and their duties.

Except I couldn't pay attention. This girl at the end of the line---I forgot to breathe. She was short, brown hair the color of pale chocolate, bright eyes the color of the sea, or sky. Very bright eyes. To call them merely bright is an injustice. To call her beautiful is also an injustice. What a delicate being! How angelic her features, the timid way she held herself. What a desirable creature...!

"The proprietor's room is traditionally sixth floor," the butler said, suddenly right before me. I almost jumped. "It is heavily decorated," he continued. "You should find it."

Nodding for show, my mind obviously somewhere else, I picked up the suitcase I inadvertently dropped, tailed it up the stairs, and hoped the girl was of the cleaning crew. How oft would I get to see her...