Thursday, August 4, 2022

Luxury Cave


The classified advertised it as a luxury cave.  The real estate agent, Helen Parker said she could show it to me at 2PM, so at 2 on the dot I returned to her office, and she drove me to the property.   I was surprised to see it was in fact a cave.  The front yard was just a scraggly field.  There wasn’t any sidewalk leading to the cave entrance, just a slightly worn path through the field.

As we got out of her car, she reached into the trunk and pulled out a flashlight.  She looked at me and said she wasn’t sure if the electricity had been left on or not.  I was happy to hear it had electricity. 

Walking in, the first thing I noticed was the temperature change.  It felt very cool but not at all damp.  My next observation was the hardwood floors.  Somehow, I expected there to be dirt floors.  To my way of thinking, caves always had dirt floors.  These were nice.  Highly polished and as we walked, our steps echoed.

Helen reached over to the rock wall and felt around for the light switch.  She flicked it on and sure enough, all of the lights came on.  The place looked beautiful.  It was very expansive.  There was a full, modern kitchen off to our left and opposite the kitchen looked to be a family room.  Apparently, the place came fully furnished, as I saw a big, flat screen television, two recliners, a leather sofa, some tables, and a few scattered lamps.  Hellen noticed my surprise and said, “Yes, it comes completely furnished.”

We spent a good hour going through the place, room by room.  Each time we entered a new area I was surprised at the detail and quality that had been put into it.  As we were heading back towards the entrance, the realtor stopped, looked at me and said that if I was serious about the place, there were a few things I needed to know.   Then she began to list them.

“First off, the post office won’t deliver mail to a cave.  You’ll have to get a PO Box in town.”  I told her that wasn’t a problem.  “Cell phone reception is very poor towards the back of the cave.”  Again, I let her know that wasn’t a deal breaker.  Finally, she says, “During times of hibernation, there is a bear that takes up a little space in the back bedroom.”

I told her there were a few other properties I still wanted to check out, but that I’d let her know.  In truth, I loved the place but wanted a little more information on the bear situation.

It hadn’t occurred to me initially, but there wasn’t a front door.  The cave was just open to the elements, not to mention the critters.  I began to wonder who lived there before.  Who had just packed up and left all their furniture and why?  Maybe this wasn’t something I should be getting into.  I called the realtor back and asked her if I could talk with the previous owners.  She seemed very reluctant to give me their name.  I told her it was available at the township office as it is a public record, so then she agreed to save me a trip there. 

“His name is Chesterfield.”

Like the cigarette, I asked.

“No, his first name is Chester, his last name is Field.  It’s not all one word.”

Do you happen to have any contact information for him?

“Our office doesn’t give out any personal information.  For that, you will have to go to the city offices.”

I thanked her and the next day drove into town to see what I could find out.

I think the real estate agent told them to expect me, for when I walked into the Clerk’s office, they seemed to be ready for me.

Already on the counter were the documents and history for that property, but that isn’t what I noticed right off.  The office itself was old and smelled musty.  There were two no smoking signs posted and yet the crusty-looking lady sitting back at her desk seemed to be chain smoking.  The ashtray on her desk was overflowing with cigarette buts and a cloud of smoke hung thick over where she sat.

Are you the county clerk? I asked.

“Do I look like an elected official?” she snarled.

I didn’t respond.  She appeared to be having a bad day. I slid the stack of documents to the end of the counter and proceeded to look through them.  I discovered Chester Field owned the property only 3 years.  Before Chester it was owned by a Lilly Thompson.  There was no mention of a bear on any of the paperwork, however, Lilly’s occupation was listed a circus performer.  I immediately wondered if this was a circus bear that Lilly had somehow liberated.

 

My search to locate Mr. Fields took me to a dead end.  From everything I found, it seems he left the country and now lives in Germany.  I had zero luck finding an address for him in Germany, but I did locate Mrs. Thompson. 

 

No phone number that I could find but at least I had a psychical address I could write to.  In the meantime, I went ahead and put an offer in on the cave.  I really liked it and didn’t want to wait. 

My offer was accepted, and I was now in Escrow.   Yikes!  Did I really just buy a cave?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 To be continued




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