The aged, large Brown trout, a trophy sought after by all who angled this or any section of the epic Colorado River headwaters, finned slowly at the lowest depths of a pool, languid, sated and content with his latest conquest of the fat Fall caddis flies that had sought respite upon the placid surface of his pool only to find, too late, that the serene waters upon which they had lit were but the antithesis of respite, rather, it was a canvas for slaughter, not unlike a sleek wooden cutting board that exists for the sole purpose of faunal relief before their methodical and intentional dismemberment, that which is necessary prior to the feast.
The Brown continued to rest, satisfied with all that he had accomplished, living at that moment within a state of supreme bliss; the thought of future glories or excesses nonexistent in his feeble brain, certainly not at this point of ultimate contentment and self-satisfaction.
And then, upon the surface of his domain, a ripple, a tremble showing desperation….the hint of a struggle, perhaps even weakness.…caught the Brown’s attention. Could there be room in his near-to-bursting stomach for another fat morsel; could one ever have too much of a good thing?
Without even thinking, even in his limited vision of what thinking and reasoning involved, the Brown shoots to the surface, mouth agape, ready to blindly gulp one more chunk of what, at first glance, albeit peripherally, seems appealing.
'Glump'….water is sucked in, along with the fat treat. 'Chomp', as the prey is quickly incised, tasted and devoured. These two naturally spasmodic actions, 'Glump' and 'Chomp', are but a split second apart from being simultaneous.
Next, a sting in the upper jaw, a pain so profound, quickly followed by a strain, a violent tug, then a steady flow that pulls and yanks at the Brown’s jaw with an intensity heretofore unimagined or experienced. Screaming downward, back to the safety of his pool, the tug gets stronger, and the pain more intense. He shakes his head violently to and fro, hoping to rid himself of whatever he has encountered, but to no avail; the unseen force continues to pull, and the burning in his mouth has now found its way into the bone and throughout his whole being. He continues to shake his head, he continues to circle his pool, his domain, but the tug and the pain persist and intensify. His energy spent, he gives in and follows the upward force, and in doing so, the pain in his mouth begins to lessen and the resultant shock to his body diminishes as well. He gives himself up to this higher force, his previous state of indolent satisfaction now replaced by an intense desire to survive, to vanquish the suffering which has been inflicted by this source unseen.
He breaks the surface, fleetingly seeing a world and a life that he’d never imagined, that he never knew existed so close to his world. Now in the grasp of the unknown force, he knows only that he is no longer in his world, he knows he doesn’t like this new world, but he has abdicated to this unknown place; sadly, he has no cognitive notion of the pain, the suffering and the violent demise that ultimately and swiftly will befall him as he crosses into this threshold unknown, in what he believes is a defensive measure necessary for his survival.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On December 27th, 2007, at approximately 5:00 PM MST, in front of family both immediate and in-law, a banker, a title company representative, a realtor and Abner Renta, my wife and I signed papers that made us joint owners of The Riverside Hotel, Bar & Restaurant.
Abner had signed his papers earlier in the day, and the money, $690,000, was already in his bank account. Nearly half of that money would immediately transfer to an individual who had loaned Abner $300,000 as an “investment” – an investment that not only earned the investor no dividends, but Abner had never even paid him a penny of the principal, as was their initial agreement and a condition of the loan. While this sucker made none of the promised gains, at least he got out whole.
We arrived at the hotel at 4:30 PM, having pulled a 9’x12’ U-Haul trailer, loaded with a sofa, chairs, our big screen TV and scads of other knick knacks, pictures, decorative items and on and on….the first load of what would ultimately be three additional loaded 9x12 U-Haul trailers and two 25’ Penske trucks comprised of all that we had acquired in 28 years of wedded bliss. The drive had been brutal, with a sideways snowstorm through most of Kansas the evening before, Julie sick as a dog, and the final push into Colorado, over Loveland Pass, up the icy roads, twists and turns of the Blue River Valley and slowly into Hot Sulphur…our new home that welcomed us after this bitch of a traverse like a massive mousetrap welcomes a timid mouse on an innocent quest for a bit of cheese.
The deal was for Abner to have all of his personal belongings out of the hotel at the hour of closing. The deal also included Abner leaving all of the furniture and fixtures germane to the operation of the hotel in place, as they were included in the price of the hotel. As you don’t have to imagine, the opposite had occurred. Anything of worth, including most of the nice antique pieces in the lobby and the rooms, were noticeably absent…absconded by Abner and held in whereabouts unknown.
Still present in the hotel, particularly in Abner’s living quarters, was his personal junk, trash, garbage…the effluvium of 20 years of pack-ratted living….the very shit of life that a person such as me or anyone would assume that they were paying hard money not to have to deal with. That shit, he left for us.
Step back and imagine me for a second, going into this major life altering venture, having driven through a blizzard, hauling a trailer with a sick wife and reluctant business partner, and walking into our new home, the previous owner sitting in one of the shit stained chairs that he was gracious enough to leave behind, sipping on champagne and chomping on celebratory shrimp that the realtor had provided, throwing the shrimp shells on the floor next to the worthless garbage that he hadn’t moved from the hotel, (not next to the antiques that I’d thought we purchased),…and as I'm smoldering to the point of spontaneous combustion, he says to me “I’ve got my personal effects in the back room, where I’ll still live for a while, if that’s OK with you? I've got nowhere else to go....sniff”
I took a Grand Canyon-esque deep breath and walked back into the living quarters. In one of the back rooms, actually the nicest back room…one that Abner and his kept illegal hadn’t fouled, were Abner’s clothes, personal effects and, believe this or not, his slippers sitting neatly near the side of the bed, his robe laid neatly on the bed and his toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste at the sink (this was a huge shock, taking into account the condition of his fetid dentia).
He sold us the building, he cashed his $690,000 check, he took and sold all of the good stuff out of the hotel, left the garbage and the trash, and still planned on living in the hotel rent free, with us, in the nicest room in the house.
If balls were cash, Abner would have the financial wherewithal to scare Bill Gates and Warren Buffet out of a game of Texas Hold-Em.
………….To Be Concluded
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment