Charlie's Place -- Part 2

Charlie stopped rocking and leaned his chair so far back I thought he might topple. He cradled the dolphin’s head in his bony hand, rested it on his right knee and smiled a grand, knowing smile.

“You’re going to want my help, son. I can guarantee it. As far as the asking price is concerned, that’s part of my long story. I’m not in a position to quote you a price. What’s the matter, son? You look a little piqued.”

I was hurt. My desire to have that house had grown to obsession and it appeared I wasn’t going to get it. Sure I was upset. You can’t smash a man’s dream and expect him not to react.

“Then, it’s not for sale?”

“I didn’t say that, son. I just can’t give you a price. You’re going to have to go into town and check with the county tax assessor’s office. If you hurry, you’ll be able to do that today. If not, you’ll have a four-day weekend to wait through. It’s ten after two now. You’ll have to hustle because they close at four.”

He stood slowly and offered his hand. It felt cold and a little clammy like old people’s hands do sometimes. Then he smiled broadly and said, “Now, get a move on, son, before somebody beats you to it.”

I thanked him and excused myself. I had no desire to let four days pass before I got some solid information; information that old Charlie seemed unwilling or unable to divulge. In my rearview mirror I saw him waving to me from the window with the broken lower pane. Funny, it didn’t seem to have been broken when I was inside. I wondered what he meant when he told me I would want his help.

I broke all the speed limits and made it to the county tax office with a half-hour to spare. I gave the lady behind the counter what information I had on the place. She knew exactly which piece of property I was talking about and returned in less than a minute with a thick file in her hands.

“Here it is, Sir. The entire file and history of the property is here, if you’d like to look it over. Oh, my, isn’t that the oddest thing,” she said as she flipped through the pages of the file.

“Isn’t what the oddest thing?” I asked a little anxiously.

“Oh, nothing, Sir. I had just forgotten when it was that old Charlie died. One year ago, today—and at this time, too. What a strange coincidence. Anyway, when Charlie died, he left no heirs, so everything in the house was auctioned off to cover the taxes. As I recall, that model ship of his paid a large portion of the burden—all by itself. So, the lien on the property will be....”

I wrote a check against the lien immediately and I have a feeling that we, Charlie and I, will be quite happy out there. And my thesis...well, my thesis, thanks to Charlie, may take a different turn.