I climbed out of the window of Charlie's '69 classic and headed toward the front door. I took a good look around the exterior of the house, noting the three stories; an upstairs, middle floor, and basement. When I took a look around the back, I noticed a rope swing outside a top-floor window, that I guessed was Charlie's room, leading to a lake that was pretty far away from the back wall of the house. "Awesome," I thought. I turned back around and walked back to Charlie.
"Nice house," I complimented.
"Yeah, thanks. It's just something I threw together," he said modestly.
"Wait, you're saying that you live here and bought all of this buy yourself?" I asked, amazed.
"Well, sort of. I bought the property and built the place from the ground up. Quite literally," he elaborated.
"Solid work, Charlie!" I smiled, punching his shoulder.
"Thanks man, now, let's head inside."
When we walked inside, I was struck with awe. The dark, richly polished mahogany hardwood flooring mixes extremely well with the almost white grey color of the walls. The baseboards are white, which was a perfect combination for the wall. There is a wide, beautifully built staircase in the front room that went up a few steps and turned to the right and continued to the upper level of the house. The steps were the same clean cut hardwood as the floor, and where the stair climbs vertically up the house, is painted the same ashen white color as the baseboards. The newel posts at the base of the stairs were extraordinarily wood worked with a beautiful design, and the railing leading up to the next posts is a black painted, brass. There were too many doors in the place to count. To the right of the stairs, there's a hallway without a door that I followed just to get a better look around the place. Through the hallway, the house opened up again, but this time it wasn't a giant living area, but a kitchen, bar, and backdoor exit. There were bar stools up against the island counter right in front of the shelves full of various bears and wines. This place is my heaven.
"Well, we're about an hour and a half early, so, if you want, I can show you around a little more," he offered, gesturing behind him.
"Please do," I said enthusiastically,"But, first, could I grab a quick drink?"
"Of course! Make yourself at home!" he reassured.
"Sweet! Uh, do you have any cold smoke?" I asked, not as enthusiastic as before because I knew that Montana is the only state that actually sells that stuff.
"Hell yeah, every time I go up to Montana I buy a case or two of that stuff. It's glorious," he replied.
He walked around the counter, grabbed out a case of my ideal beer, grabbed a can opener, and cracked two cool bottles open. One for each of us.
"Follow me," he said, walking back down the hall with his beer.
YOU ARE READING
How to Save a Life
Fiksi RemajaI always thought that anything I ever did was pointless. No one would care, and if they did, it wouldn't matter in the near future. It would be just that moment. That's it. I believed all of this up until they moved here. How is it that the most tr...
