Rajput chief founded the town of Jaipur in the 12th century and it was responsible for supplying many famous fighters, colonels like me to the Mogul empire. The town of Jaipur remained as it was, content with its own custom for seven hundred years until the British came along in 1818 and placed Jaipur under its protection.
In any event, while there in 1917, I happened along its main street, which is quite wide to accommodate the cattle, which are sacred in India, and many vendors display their wares as they sit beneath their umbrellas, catching the smell of curry in the air. “I doubt you would enjoy the seasoning Heinz, it is not my favorite, and bad for sex.”
One man sitting there on the plazas… brewing tea, and, as it was past my teatime, I looked at it and I pointed. Well Heinz, you would have thought I had farted; the man came unglued, waving his hands resolutely and speaking in an exaggerated manner. I’ll tell you Heinz, it was disquieting as a crowd gathered, and he said to me, “Sahib you have looked at my tea…and, most egregiously sir, you have also pointed at it…now, sir, I must throw it into the curb and I must scour the pot, causing me to be late for tea, and for work.”
With all the Indians looking on and loudly voicing their opinions, I made the suggestion as I brought my wallet (the crowd went, ‘ah’) into view for all to see…”Quite honorable sir,” I opined.
“Kindly permit me to acquire the pot and the tea?” I could see ... the crowd was clearly on my side of the issue. I produced a crisp five dollar bill in good faith, and offered it to the offended Indian…he appeared even more distraught.
I replaced the five dollar bill and produced a ten…there was a sound of astonishment…(whooo) as the Indian smiled, displaying only one tooth in front, he snatched the ten dollars and handed me the pot with the tea. I smiled, saluted him with my middle finger and offered tea to those with cups.
************
Our first stop was at the sheriff’s office to see Deputy Bill Cover, and found him busy at his desk.
“Good morning sheriff.”
“Colonel, sir, how may I help you?”
“With your permission sir, I should like to move my quarters from the camp to the Guest House in town?”
“May I ask why you wish to move?”
“Of course, first of all I must have access to a land line for calls to my employer and my lawyer…you know for privacy purposes. Secondly, it would place me closer to this office in the event you need me and lastly with the charge hanging over my head, I am not comfortable living in the place where the charges have emanated.”
“Quite reasonable issues Colonel, I’ll make the request of my superior and you may check back with me in a couple of hours.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, thank you Colonel, sir…by the way how is Heinz getting on?”
“Heinz is terrific; we’re off to the vet for a check-up, teeth cleaning and bath.”
“Probably needs it, but you know we’ll be collecting him in a couple of days.”
“There is no hurry sheriff and I’m sure the county won’t mind ... I am paying for his keep?”
Heinz was happy to see me. Somehow I got the feeling ... he sensed something was in the air, a change was on the wind which would not be pleasant for him. Looking at him, I knew I must find a way to make him a permanent part of my life. Heinz was not a happy camper when I took him into the vet’s office. He looked at me with those huge dark brown eyes in the most disparaging way, as if to say, “Thought we were pals?” Forgive me Heinz ... it appears to be a word you do not understand…it means to devalue as in; “I do not wish to disparage the bouillabaisse, which is a dish for heroes.” (A.T. Quiller) as though I had deceived him.
“We have an appointment for Heinz.” I felt bad and as she looked for his file, I tried to reason with him by just saying…It’s in you best interest.”
“Sorry, sir, but what did you say?”
“Oh, I was just reassuring Heinz.”
“Yes, sir…are you the new owner?”
“Sure wish it was so, but I’m fond of him and watching him for the sheriff’s office for a couple of days. Do you know Heinz?”
“Yes, we’ve taken care of him since he was a puppy…you know for shots and such.”
“He seems to be quite healthy.”
“He ought to be since Dr. Weisiger owns the mother and, Heinz at one time.”
“You don’t say?” What a small world I thought.
I left Heinz in capable hands and walked to the Guest House, which was conveniently located in downtown Powell River, across the street from a lovely little city park were a man selling roasted peanuts, danced while his monkey played a tiny organ. It was all so surreal, like a town from another time zone.
There were a couple of small family owned restaurants, a theatre with a pair of doors with pearl handled pistols as the doorknobs. Men and women’s apparel shops, a hardware, the post office and an old time apothecary with its own soda fountain. The town appeared to be the right match.
Stepping into the lobby of the Guest House, I knew I was at home. The floors were Italian marble and shinned like the bottom on a newborn baby.
The walls, up to the wainscoting were made from a fine cherry wood and above the centerline, the most understated wallpaper, which resembled fine art. There were at least half-a-dozen original local primitives and beyond the management’s desk, there were massive staircases leading to the second floor on either side of the lobby.
There was a small coffee shop with a bar in the center and the registry sat to the left. The lobby provided the ground floor for an atrium extending four floors to a roof garden for patrons wishing to sun bathe in the summer. There were four large Italian leather sofas, so arranged to provide a casual connection for the patrons to converse. Additionally, there were four matching overstuffed chairs placed at the corner of each sofa…for women travelling alone I thought. On the wall near the coffee shop and bar there were two small tables with two chairs each for patrons seeking coffee while enjoying the daily papers of the world.
“My name is Colonel Brandon Simpson and I am inquiring as to the availability of a suite?”
“For what day, Colonel, sir?”
“Today!”
“And for how many days?”
“Perhaps for two weeks.”
She glanced at her list, there were twelve suites and she saw two remained open, one on the second floor and one on the fourth.
“How many will there be in the suite, sir?”
“Two, myself and Heinz.”
“Two gentlemen then. Will you require a king or two doubles?”
“Heinz prefers the floor.”
“Yes,
