The Butler - 3. Chapter III

Basil took me to a room that would fit right into the Waldorf Astoria; it had about the size of the living room of my earlier mentioned apartment; the bathroom was about the size of its kitchen and the tub could easily have been substituted for the small pantry over there.

Once I entered the bathroom, turned on the taps, put in the good stuff and the scent of bathing oil filled my nostrils, another pungent scent obliterated it; my own. Oh. My. God. Did I smell like that?
I had no idea. Only because I entered a perfectly clean and odorless environment did I notice. God... no wonder those guys always paid me so fast. Brrrr...

**********

Freshly scrubbed, twice (me still being averse to myself after the first time) and about three quarters of an hour later, I found myself naked in the giant bedroom; and my clothes were gone. A bathrobe lay on the bed instead, fluffy and grey, and a pair of boxers. I discarded the latter but shrugged on the former. Underwear only got into the way of things; I always went commando. Easier access.
Were those a new set of flip-flops?
I’d even cleaned my teeth, three times during bathing, even though I had always taken good care of my teeth; I just enjoyed the flavor of the new tube of toothpaste. And the brush, which did much better a job than a finger ever could.
Feeling like I had scrubbed off three layers of foul skin, and received new teeth by the time I shuffled into the marble hall, I found Basil waiting for me.

“Follow me, please.”

He led me to what appeared to be a library. Or a study, I couldn’t decide. There was no desk, though, and it was filled to the ornate ceilings with books; old from the look of them, and all leather bound. Yep, library, I decided. Seated close to a lit hearth, Mr. Montgomery looked up.

“Ah, Christopher; you look much better.”

I actually did feel better. I never realized how unclean I’d been.

“Basil, tea please. And...sandwiches, perhaps?”

A quick look in my direction; I nodded. I was starving! Basil bowed with his upper body only, saying ’‘Yes sir” and left, and I felt it was time to get to business.

“Right. So...umm….why am I here? I mean, the bath was nice and all, and thanks for the flip-flops and the robe, but...where are my clothes?”

“I’m afraid they ate right through the titanium thongs we used to pick them up with; I trust they’re supplying heat for us as we speak.”

Supplying heat...it took me a moment.

“You burned my clothes?!”

“And what a heat source they are, wouldn’t you say? A third world country could use such marvels and generate free energy for a year. Sit, please.”

I sat down, flabbergasted for the moment. What the hell...

“Don’t worry, Christopher, I’ll make sure you get some new clothes, don’t worry about that.”
Don’t worry? It was all I owned!

“Okay, enough with the chit-chat; what do you want from me, huh? I already took your money, so I’m kind of a done deal. If you wanna fuck me, you don’t have to put me in a bath, burn my clothes and what; send me out into the street with flip-flops and a robe? I could fit right in with the homeless peeps over at the Bowery Mission. Just get the rubbers and the lube, and get it over with. Or without, if you prefer. Costs extra, though. Tying down, spanking, that’s all extra.”
Somehow, I wanted to offend him; to see his veneer crack a little, bring him down to my level. I even spread my legs to show him the goods. That’s right, baby; stick it right in there.

But Mr. Montgomery raised both hands in a soothing manner, not even a hint of discomfort at my straightforwardness.

“Shh...relax, Christopher. No harm will come to you. I just want to talk. The money is yours, regardless.”
I think I blushed and looked away.

“I…thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now...how does the robe feel?”
I shrugged.

“It feels fine.”

“Fine?”

“Okay, it feels great.”
Mr. Montgomery smiled, pleased.

“They’re good, aren’t they? How would you like to feel such amenities every day?”

“I wouldn’t say ’no’ to it,” I replied. Duh.

“That can happen, you know...”

“And what would I have to do for that?” I asked, suspiciously.

“Work for me.”
I stared at him.

“Why?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I mean…why me? I’m sure there are loads of guys out there that…”

“Perhaps there are. Most probable. But I don’t want just anybody working for me. I want someone…fresh. New. Not someone who’s been steamed into a role.”
He sat forward, slowly, as if he was about to conspire.

Unconsciously I sat forward as well; the way he spoke was intriguing me.

“You see; very soon now, Basil and I will go our separate ways. We don’t really…get along, if you will. And I find myself in need of a new butler.”
I frowned and let that sink in, sitting back again.

“But I’m nowhere near qualified…”

He sat back as well.

“No, you’re not. But, as I said, I don’t want someone just like Basil. He has been trained to do the work, but I’m looking for something a little more. Not someone to wait on me, hand and foot, but to also talk to me, speak to me, be with me as a companion. Accompany me on travel; see it as something more of a…’personal assistant’ type of thing. Someone less formal, if you will. A friend.”

“But…why me!? You realize I’m not exactly what you’d call a first choice, when it comes to such jobs.”
He smiled, inclining his head.

“True. Your current…ehr…’job’ leaves something to be desired. But you intrigue me. You are real. And I believe in giving people chances. You’ll remember me mistaking you for someone?”
I nodded.
“You remind me of my firstborn son.”

“Charles,” I said, remembering the name he called out to me.

“Charles, yes,” Mr. Montgomery replied, his voice trailing off as he stared into the fire.

“You and he not speaking anymore?” I guessed. It was a shot in the dark.
Something of pain shone briefly in the old man’s eyes when he looked up.

“He died, several years ago.”

“Sorry,” I said, feeling as if I’d put my foot in it.
The old man looked up again and sent me a sad smile.

“That’s quite alright; you didn’t know. But in a way, I still speak to him.”
He pointed to the ceiling.
“Every night.”
We remained silent for a while. I didn’t really know what else to say and was saved by a soft knock on the door. A second later, Basil came in, carrying a tray of sandwiches.

He quietly set the tray down on the table in front of me, hardly making any sound, and then retreated, closing the door without so much as a whisper.

“So what do you say…do you think you this could be a job for you?”
I leaned forward to pick up one of the sandwiches; I couldn’t resist any longer. My stomach hurt from hunger and the smell of them was almost too much.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should let you eat first.”

I swallowed the first bite. Well, bite…I pretty much ate the whole thing in one go.

“I still don’t know why you want me,” I said, with my mouth full. “I’m a hustler, not a butler.”

“Companion,” he corrected.

“Whatever. And how do you know you can trust me?”
He smiled again.

“I don’t. It’s a feeling I had, from the moment I laid eyes on you. You seemed…defiant. Cocky. Sure of yourself. And very, VERY out of place. The defiance and self assuredness; that’s what made me think I was seeing Charles. I think you and he might have liked one another, had he lived today. And, as I said; I believe in giving people a chance. And you seemed to be someone in need of one.”

“You’re insane, old man,” I grinned, picking up another sandwich. “For all you know, I could be a murderer. Or a thief. You’d invite someone like that into your house?”

“I doubt you are any of those things, Christopher. I think you’re quite the opposite. I think you are lonely. Which makes us kindred spirits. Who better to choose? Will you consider my proposal?”
Maybe it was the sandwiches. Or maybe it was the idea of being able to start over, with a complete clean slate.

“Sure.”

“Then Christopher, I think this could be the beginning of a very fruitful relationship.”