Worn Collars
Part Twenty-Nine
"A Brush With Death"
The
actual end; the ‘distribution’ of Arlington St. John’s ‘estate’ including the
equity assets (trust funds), Maine property (Arlington’s house in Maine) and
the contents of that property (the ‘old books’, et al)... came with no fair...
or fanfare. “IT” “HAPPENED”.
The
sort of funny way.
The
housekeeper, who kept her eye out for ‘storms at sea’ and ‘all weather’... did
not figure it out too fast. First
(after the full four years trickled by) a “deed” was “passed”. This was not understood. It wasn’t until Arlington’s electric
bills were forwarded from the bank(s) to the housekeeper with an attached emendation
to “change the account” followed by inquiring telephone calls about “What is
this about” that
She
(the housekeeper) “found out”
And
Found
out that from ‘then on’... SHE was the one who “PAID”.
“Oh.”
“Ahhhh...”: THAT moved things along.
Arlington
St. John’s house and contents suddenly became a ...hired taxi cab... waiting...
with the meter running. “Oh.”
became a daily ritual involving the housekeeper’s wallet and its active
participation... in “sustaining” “the property” (“is now your responsibility”).
So
that “moved things along”. I said.
Actually
I said “WILL move things along”.
That
is what happened.
I
was called
In.
WE...
had the “WILL YOU PAY” (“HOW MUCH”) – “I... CAN... pay” (“HOW MUCH”)
conversation again. That slid
sideways to the ...I to her... “HOW MUCH”... “DO YOU WANT?”. Of course that didn’t work but... it
did open the door for my follow-up query “IS-THERE-A-LIST” (of what there is
and how much it (‘the stuff’) is ‘worth’ (valued by the estate).
There
was no list and... she had to telephone the bank about “what” the ‘contents’
was “appraised for”. The bank was
slow in getting back to her.
Apparently... they had no concise valuation on what was IN the
house. Their valuation was...
principally... “the property” (as a ‘whole’).
“So
how much do you want. Maybe I can
pay that.”
I
restated.
“I
don’t know.”
No
surprise there.
“Well
tell me when your ready.” The
housekeeper actually accepted that as some sort of ‘terms’ and I didn’t hear
from her for about two weeks. Then
she was back... on her smart phone... to me. “Ok?”
“Ok
what?”
“How
much do you want?”
“I
have some offers”.
“For
all of it?”
“For
all of it?”
“The
entire contents”.
“I
think I just want to sell the books”.
“That’s
most of the contents.”
“Yes
but.”
“The
rest is his mother’s stuff. You
know that.”
“Yes
but”.
“But
what?”
“They
only want the books”.
“I
want all of it.
“All
of it?”
“Everything
in there. Except the china
cabinets. He wanted you to have
them”.
“Everything?”
“I’ll
buy it. I will clean it out. The house will be empty in two
days. You can sell it (sell the
property). It will be empty and
ready to sell.”
“How
much will you pay”.
“Can
pay. I can pay...”
“Thirty
six hundred... fifty dollars:
Three thousand six hundred and fifty dollars”.
She
(the housekeeper) stood there.
I
figured... out... in my mind... that ‘any offer’ on the ‘books’ would be two
thousand to twenty-five hundred (dollars) ‘for the books’ WITH the cabinets as
an ‘unresolved’ AND....
My
gut (got) said this so I ...bet the house.
What
was the essence of ‘gut’ (got)?
There are (were) “I GUT” (I got) two thousand to twenty-five hundred...
old books...; an actual number of old books... ‘in there’. Damny can count that high... at a
buck... an ...old... book. That
simple; “stupid simple”***. After four years... coming after forty
years... Arlington’s rare books come down to “stupid simple”. Why? Has one watched someone, for example, parallel park their
car recently? Et al. It is the ... “O L” (operating level).
It
(the Operating Level) is in the whole (the ‘big picture’)... a that. THAT... is...‘not much of a threat’
to... old (rare) books. (“Old
imprints you say?”) I, herein,
have written one hundred and forty pages demonstrating ‘not much of a threat’.
*** Obvious
to I... but perhaps not to the reader... is this what I ‘work with’(base a
dollar offer on). It is NOT
‘actual dollar value’ of the “stuff”.
I base my offer entirely on ‘what it will take to buy this’. I review all the factors I can
gather... with actual dollar value of the actual ‘stuff’ being one... bit
player... factor... and configure what dollar amount ‘will work’. Again; purchase offers are not based on
actual value of the stuff. I save
that factor for when ...I... sell... “the stuff”.
The
housekeeper:
That
was fine. It was... at least... a
thousand more than she thought I was gonna say and
I
clean out the house too.
Again: “Stupid Simple”
But
with a brush with death.
The
“contents suddenly becomes a ...hired taxi cab... waiting... with the meter
running. “Oh.” becomes a ‘right
now’ ritual involving MY wallet and its active participation... in “sustaining”
“the property” (“is now MY responsibility”) ...right now... and until “empty”. I
Cannot.
Leave...
and a whole bunch of other...
I
wrote out the check from my ‘in my pocket’ check book and she
“I
know it is.” When I handed it to her saying “It’s good”. I said I “am going to change” (my
clothes) and very swiftly... went to the truck and retrieved my ‘work clothes’
satchel WHILE doing speed dial smart phone “It’s a go” preplanned call... for
help... who empty boxes loaded on two trucks were not quite ‘waiting around the
corner but... close enough. I “Where is she?” (the housekeeper) and she wasn’t in the
book room but
SHE
COULD BE
At
any moment but I
Reminded
myself that the... bottle of window cleaner, the crumpled and soiled dried up
paper towels AND the stack of books they’d been used on... at least two years
ago... were EXACTLY ‘the same’ as ‘been left there’ so MAYBE... “I’m okay on
this (Housekeeper going in the book room and
ANYTHING
AT ALL.
“No.”
So
I went in the bathroom and changed my clothes.
I’d
never been in Arlington’s God damn bathroom ever. No one ever went in there EVER except Arlington and the
housekeeper... I could bet. I
heard her saying something about ‘cashing the check’ to my back as I went
toward the bathroom. ‘Good. Go cash it’ is my HOPE. In the bathroom... I closed the
door. Turned. Looked at the toilet. The sink. Back to the toilet.
“Jesus Christ” I said out loud.
On
the back of the toilet were two... books.
I recognized both of them.
They are both ‘biblical tome’ type rare book man rare book reference
books. One, on top, was, in dust
jacket with protect glassine wrapper Carter’s ABC FOR BOOK COLLECTORS. It is standard ‘must memorize’ and is
used ‘forever’ by an active ‘old-book-er’. So... good ‘on toilet’ reading. Under it... was “McKerrow”.
“AN
INTRODUCTION TO BIBLIOGRAPHY” (Oxford, 1927 (1948 this edition).
“Ok...
ok” to...just make this easier... John Carter ‘stand alone’ defines McKerrow in
his “ABC”. McKerrow is... an
‘opposite side of the scale’ of (rare book) fundamental... to an old booker. It is a sort of physics text book about
how a book is physically and how to right-write a ‘looks like physics’ formula
that says how a given book is physically...:
“Yeah”
just light on-toilet reading.
So,
for me... I probably had my McKerrow around for twenty years before... now
thirty years ago... “I” “FINALLY” “READ” “IT”... cover to cover... and... I
didn’t put it on my toilet.
But that’s so Arlington... to do that; you know: READ about writing a physics formula
for an old book while... taking a crap.
So...: “Jesus Christ”. And I should have denoted the ‘brush
with death’ warning right then... AND... the “ABC” was ‘there too’. So I change my clothes and “walk” from
the bathroom taking the THEY ARE MY BOOKS NOW with me. To the old book room. I don’t know where the housekeeper
‘went off to’. I sit in
Arlington’s chair... at his old book room desk. I don’t touch anything. I don’t look at the window cleaner cleaned books stacked on
the desk. I was just about start
to “WAIT” when my two... confidants... show up and:
I
deploy orders... to ‘do this room first’.
“Everything”. “Start to the
right of the door go all around in order do not over pack the boxes seal each
one mark it with (assigned code) leave the cabinets alone empty don’t mess with
anything I want this done as fast as possible into the truck and out of here
NOW.”
These
two guys wouldn’t know ‘old book’ ANYTHING. One collects coins and has worked with me for years with no
change of antiquarian world view at all (“coins”; a ‘one trick dog’). Younger number two fancies himself to
“deal in paintings” and “art”. I
don’t help those causes. He’s on
his own. Not visiting a museum is
a big part of his plan. “That
takes care of that”. Don’t
it. Arlington did not have any
paintings in his house. So that
left ‘my guy’ with... ‘old books’.
I know he has not read ‘one of those’ (a book) ‘in a while’ (ever). His wife (who happened to be going
by... “ha, ha”) asked me “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH ALL OF THEM?”
“Read
‘em”.
“OH
YOUR NOT REALLY!”
We
had it (the old rare book room) empty and “trucked off” in three hours. The housekeeper was back. She didn’t say anything and I assumed
that my checking account balance had dropped. She looked in the old book room. The cabinets were empty. “I don’t know where to put them” she said. “Her problem”. Right?
She
didn’t seem to care. About the
rest of the stuff. In the
house. I did care ...about how she
cared... could care... could change her care. Cares. “KEEP
RIGHT ON IT” is the ‘estate cleanout rule’. DO NOT SLOW DOWN.
But... the day was done...SO...
“Give
me the key so I can get in here early”.
“I’ll
be up. Come get me at the house”.
“No. They’ll be here at seven. I’ll be in here by six. We may be done by noon. By two for sure”. I turned back to the old book room when
I said that. That’s when I had the
‘a brush with death’. The room was
empty. I saw that. It stopped me cold. I hadn’t said good bye.
I’d
just cleaned it all out:
Arlington’s old (rare) book room.
Everything I’d... from 1969... I’d forgot... to just stand there... no...
I should have been ‘sitted’. I...
the guest chair. Even that was
already on a truck. I forgot to
say good bye... to a rotten man who was a rotten book collector and his old
(rare) book room. That I’d just
‘clean out’: It was gone.
The End.
