Hamelton (Dr. Paul) (2 page)

Handy asked, "Seems as if it must be hard to keep the place in such good shape?"

"Well, Master Simon has a crew of twenty caretakers, run under Mr. Gregory‟s competent management. Not all the land is kept up anymore of course, just what can be seen from the main house. The rest has live stock, which takes most of the men‟s efforts. And as far as the house goes, there are just the three of us in here. Albert is the “head of estate”, meaning he has been here forty years. He's in charge, paying bills, taking care of the autos and the like". She whispered, "We don't let him do more then we have to, if you know what I mean." Maggie cracked some eggs into some boiling water. "Now of course there is Hanna. She does the deep cleaning, if you can call it deep. I think the Simons bought this house only because they financially could, not because they wanted it. Well anyway, there are no big parties, few guests at all really. The Simons use just a few rooms when they are here, which is only half the time. We also bring in the caretakers for the walls and windows. So dusting, vacuuming and polishing is all that really needs to be done. I on the other hand cook, not for the gardeners of course; they have their own supply in their confinement out back. Here you are.” At that she put the eggs Benedict on the table. "I also help with Hanna and Albert's work to see things get done right. Eat up," she said pouring the coffee.

Maggie, as you can see, was a wealth of over information. She continued to tell us how the stable in town was originally opened by a Mulligan, a forefather of hers. Although an Irishman in England, he was treated very fairly by the town's people and the Hamelton family, who were the original builders of the house. The Mulligan family passed the stable business from father to son for hundreds of years. When the auto came around, business died off. The family's once respectable bank account, from hundreds of years of fair horse trading and boarding, was eaten up to keep the family business alive. It seemed they felt cars were just a fad.

The town of Hamelton was built to take care of the Hamelton family's needs. The Hamelton's were advisors to the royal family in matters of religion and law she told us. The family passed this responsibility from father to eldest son for three generations. The Hamelton's and the town flourished until an only son refused to come when called by the palace. The town almost lost everything. Then the word about the friendly town's folk got out, and the inns became full of vacationers. This brought the town of Hamelton back to life. At least enough that it did not die out.
"You must be in need of a nap," Maggie interrupted herself, “If Albert has brought your things up to your rooms, I can show them to you. The rooms I mean I am sure you know which things are yours" She directed herself toward Jeff and Cindy who were holding hands. "Are you married?" Cindy looked down and blushed. "I know how love is, but in this house the Simons would want unmarried people sleep in different rooms." Maggie continued with her back to us, "I can, however, give you adjoining bedrooms, and what you do after you enter your separate bedrooms is none of my business, none of my business!" She started toward the door to the hall saying something about her school days. We all got up to follow, looking at each other as if agreeing what a character this lady was.

We walked back the way we had come in. When we arrived in the main entryway, we headed up the left staircase. Maggie kept informing us on little tidbits of information as we walked.

"The builder, the original Hamelton that is, seemed to prefer to have the left side of the house as mostly family and business quarters, social and operational on the right." Handy commented how the hand carved banister seemed to be the only original part of the house. "No. no. no..." Maggie seemed to enjoy saying, "The whole house is original, just plastered over and painted. A few walls moved here and there. That window there. But mostly original. The Simons did their share when they modernized six years ago." She shook her head with disapproval. "Every owner has made their mark, some more than others."

The second floor hall we had entered was plain but luxurious. The floor was stone like the rest of the house. The white walls had pictures hung of flowers in vases. Judging from the apparent expense of the magnificent frames, those canvasses must have cost a pretty penny, but not my taste. The hall was about ten feet wide with an occasional small table on the side displaying a fragrant bouquet of flowers. A carpet ran down the middle of the hall. At the end of the hall we could see that it made a left turn, undoubtedly leading to the part of the wing that protrudes forward.

Noticing the seemingly endless line of doors we were passing, I asked, "Where are the stairs going up? The house seemed to be more than two stories tall from the outside."

"Yes, I suppose it does, or is." Maggie replied as we turned the corner, "Much has been closed off through the years. Too overwhelming if you don't need it, I would think, and too hard to keep up. I still check each room every few months, even the closed off parts. Some rooms are tall while others are not. You'll see."

"Who could possibly need a home this big?" Cindy said suddenly in a sarcastic voice, and then looked down not believing it came from herself. This seemed to be the first thing Cindy said since we arrived off the plane.

Maggie complacently took no offense to Cindy's tone. Walking a few steps further she stopped, turned to Cindy and nicely explained, "In the old days important people needed a large entourage to handle their affairs. Also remember when they entertained, it may have been a day's ride or more for their guests. Their guests and their entourages needed to spend the night. The larger the parties you threw, the more bedrooms a good host would have."

Maggie reached behind her on the right side of the hall, turned the knob, and gave the door a gentle push. The door almost seemed magical in its slow but steady reveling of the room. As strange as it may seem it felt like watching a bed sheet on the clothesline in a soft wind. Behind the door was a room fit for a queen. The bed had a canopy made of white lace. A few dozen small pillows decorated the headboard. Even as large as the bed and its four posted corners may have been, it seemed dwarfed by the size of this room. The entertaining side of the room had several pink and white couches and chairs. The matching drapes that covered the full length windows hung still. There was a dressing room in a far corner.

Maggie curtsied and winked to Cindy suggesting Cindy to enter. "This is called the princess's room." Cindy just stood there. Maggie said, "I'll be back in a few minutes to show you where everything is... or do you want to see the other bedrooms?"

The four of us impatiently watched as the next door was opened. "This is the hunting room, for the Don Juan. Or should I say Jeff?" The room was the same size as Cindy's. The fireplace was the first thing I noticed. Massive marble columns were on both sides and book shelves were built on the sides of the columns. The mantel displayed trophies on top. A white bear skin lay in front. The walls had the busts of animals of prey. The bed had a tiger skin draped across it.

"Look behind the right shelf," Maggie said to Jeff in a soft playful manner.

The parade skipped the next door and went across the hall. "Chris, I think you may like this. This is the renaissance room." The room was made of mahogany. A suit of armor stood on both sides of the stone fireplace. The heavy bed was high off the ground, about four feet with a small set of stairs leading up to it, I later learned in the days before they had indoor plumbing, it folded out into a toilet pot. The walls were covered with old shields and weapons. I thought what a good judge of character Maggie must be because she was right, I loved this room. For a moment my mind drifted to wonder if this babbling maid had more going for her than I had given her credit for. I came back to thinking about running into the room to play with everything. What is the history of this, of that, who made this, how did they use that? Questions flooded my mind, but I composed myself knowing there would be time for looking around later.

"And for you," Maggie directed Handy "I have the Master‟s bedroom."

"I don't think it would be proper to have me sleep in the Simon's room, especially with all these vacant rooms?" Handy questioned.

Maggie smiled out of the corner of her mouth. "The master of the house prefers to sleep on the first floor close to the kitchen. Easier on the knees to avoid stairs for older people you know. And besides he locks up his room when he is away." She led us to the big double doors at the end of the hall. I caught myself thinking "Of course Handy gets the biggest room." Then I remembered he did invite us, he deserves the best treatment.

The master bedroom was everything I thought it might be and more. The square footage was three times the size of the previous rooms. The ceiling was two stories tall. Windows were on three sides. The oversized bed was a long walk directly across from the door. Handy was impressed. He walked in with his hands straight out to his sides and spun around. In the corner sat our entire luggage.
"I guess Albert didn't know where to put the cases." We took our perspective suitcases back to our own rooms and waited for Maggie who said she would come back to get us all set up.

I was enjoying myself just looking around my new room for what seemed to be only minutes, but I know an hour must have gone by when Maggie knocked on the door with clean towels. She was more business minded now. She avoided my probing questions about my room that still clouded my mind. She was talking to me like a mother. She told me that I must take a nap if I'm planning to enjoy the rest of my day. I agreed but had no intention of sleeping. After she left, I laid on the bedspread to think for a moment.

If you, the reader, have not guessed as of yet, I was then and am now the inquisitive type. I admire the fictional detective Sherlock Homes. The way that he puts facts together to form or eliminate a new fact. In many ways perhaps I'm like him, although I've never had the desire to pursue criminology. I get intrigued, almost addicted to know and understand the unknown equation. Now this boy from California found himself far from home, in an unknown surrounding, meeting people with such different upbringings that I could not stereotype them in any known category. In short I was not in control of my surroundings, a feeling I wasn't used to. I'm Chris Blake, only son of a printer. I am the only known member of the Blake family to attend college. I was raised in a home where my father and his four brothers spent most of their lives. I had the same friends all my life. I did not know that I would find change so uncomfortable. Perhaps this is why I found comfort in learning all I could about my surroundings. I think now if I could have only let things ride then, I would not have had to spend the next 30 years of my life repeating in complete detail over and over that one month of my life. I would have never killed anyone. My dreams would not be haunted with the past. Enough of that now, back to the Simon's house.

I lay there fully clothed on the bed contemplating. Why was Maggie so long winded on some parts of her stories and so brief in others? Was she cleverly avoiding parts or just as nutty as our first impression? Was she nervous about something? Would the Simons have kept her around if she acted like that all the time? Why is Albert so cold? Why do the Simons really sleep downstairs? What did the house look like originally? How do I get into the upper floors? Do I want to go up the top floors? Why would a Hamelton, or anyone, refuse an invitation from the royal palace? Is that how they lost the house?

II

Handy's loud voice startled me out of a sound and deep sleep with dreams of sword fighting. I was slightly disoriented because I had not planned on sleeping, and for a moment I had to think where I was? Handy's playful face was looking down on me. "Can Chris come out and play?" Handy teased, "All the other kids are coming. ... Come on Chris we're going out. It's mid-day." He paused as I nodded to him. "We'll meet you downstairs in say... 10 minutes?" I nodded again.

I sat on the bed as Handy left the room. I looked around with a smile, "I like this place," I said out loud to perhaps the room or the house, or maybe England. I wished I had time right then to look over the armor on the walls but I knew I had to get moving. I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. The sink, although porcelain with hand painted designs, seemed out of place. I took my first look around the bathroom as I dried my face. A sudden wave of "How stupid can you be?" came over me as I realized they had no bathrooms at the time this house was built. I changed my clothes and met my friends down stairs. We explored many of the parts of the house that were open. We ran, leaped and played for about two hours. I say "about" because we all agreed to leave our watches at home since time should not be a factor on our vacation. There were also few rooms that had clocks.
During our exploration, we found at the far end of the right wing on the second floor a library. The library was large even for this house. It reminded me of the Henry Higgins library in "My Fair Lady." On this floor the walls were all covered with book shelves made of oak. Brass ladders with wheels on the bottom went up the walls periodically. Many pleasant areas of comfortable chairs were scattered around the room. A few inviting full sized desks were just waiting to be used. The furniture did not seem to match; however, it looked good together. How enormous this room was. It was two tall stories high with an inside balcony completely surrounding the sides. Close to the entry door was a staircase going up. In two parts of the room were circular brass stairs. On the balcony level of the study, the walls continued to have shelves and rolling ladders. Some shelves protruded inward to create cubbyholes for privacy.

The far side wall on the upper floor had a prominent stained glass window that must have been fifteen feet across. The window picture, I found out later, was named the “Garden of Eden before God created birds or animals”. It was of such quality it could be in the best churches of Rome. Around the sides was a border which was leafs in the fall season, or maybe just a design. In the center was a tree which wrapped itself around a gold colored circle. The morning sun light reflecting in through the diverse colored panels left sparkles around the library.