Writers Tricks of the Trade Vol. 6 Issue 1 | Page 16

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Life Stories (Cont’d)

My gaze traveled to crisp white lace doilies atop dark mahogany side tables and crocheted scarves
draped over the backs of a pair of forest green velvet chairs. Talk about a contrast. Those pieces easily
could have been part of my 90 year-old Aunt Jean’s living room.
“Well, if nothing else, it does have character,” I said. “I can picture heavily made-up women in
negligees perched on those sofas and chairs. Yeah, they’re waiting for their Johns while the Madam
fusses over them.”
Sue’s right arm swept the room in a graceful gesture. She did an exaggerated eyebrow lift and said
in a provocative stage voice, “ And which of these delectable damsels would you prefer, sir?” Then in
her normal voice she said, “Didn’t you say you met the people who own this house? What were they
like, anyway?”
“I met them when Bob picked up the keys. The owner, Harry, might be pushing sixty, but his
girlfriend Marla was so young and sexy, she could be a Las Vegas showgirl. About five-foot-ten with
huge boobs, and she didn’t appear to be much past twenty-five.”
The dust tickled my nose and I stifled a sneeze. “I can see why you would ask, though. This place is
a trip, isn’t it?”
“Let’s open some windows and get rid of this musty odor.” Sue reached behind the green velvet
draperies to unlatch a window. Fresh air poured into the living room. “Hey, what do you suppose the
bedrooms are like?”
“I don’t have a clue. Let’s check them out.”
We discovered the ever-present touch of red was evident in both bedrooms in the form of fluffy
velvet comforters and pillows perched on high mahogany four poster beds. Neither bedroom had a
closet, as is the case with many very old homes, but both had armoires with mirrored doors for
hanging one’s clothes. The windows were festooned in elaborate red brocade draperies and cornices.
Fortunately, they appeared to be in better shape than the rest of the house, but I still had that feeling
of being in a brothel.
I said, “Well, let’s get settled. This might not be the delightful country cottage we imagined, but as
long as we can tolerate all of this red and do some dusting, it’s not that bad. Except, of course, for the
jungle out front.”
Sue ran her finger over the top of a nightstand and drew the shape of an ‘S’ in the dust. “I hereby
claim this room as mine. What the hell. We can worry about dusting later. For now, let’s rest up a
little, then figure out what we’re going to do next.”
We deposited our suitcases in our respective bedrooms and headed back to the parlor. As a few
rays of sun came through the window you could actually see dust dancing in the shards of light.
“You know, it doesn’t look like the old couple who take care of this place do very much to keep it
up. But then, who knows what kind of an arrangement Harry has with them.”
Sue shrugged. “Obviously it doesn’t include housekeeping or gardening.”
“Hey, let’s not be too critical. After all, this is an all expenses paid vacation, isn’t it? Three great weeks
to do anything we please. Bob said he would reimburse us if we stay at any hotels or spend more than
he gave me in expense money.” I circled the room in an exaggerated strut and put on an English
accent. With a little edge to my voice, I said, “My deah, don’t you think a few days in London at a nice
hotel sounds perfectly brilliant? Bob has been very generous and I appreciate it. We shouldn’t take
advantage of his kindness.”

JANUARY-FEBRUARY 2016

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WRITERS’ TRICKS OF THE TRADE