the inheritance

My great uncle recently died, and in his will he left me, his only heir, the delicatessen he had owned and managed for most of his adult life. 

The will had several stipulations. First, the delicatessen mustn’t be sold and upon my death must pass to my own heirs—who, however, I had none, having never married or fathered any children.

“That,” my great uncle’s attorney and executor said, “can be worked out later. Who knows? Perhaps you’ll marry and bear children eventually. You need only convey to me your intent to honor his wishes in good faith. As his executor, I hold considerable discretion in such matters—we can revisit the subject later.”

 the old neighborhood

Upon leaving the attorney’s office, I returned to my room at the Y which I shared with three other travelers. Initially, I had planned to return to my home city on the early morning train (D. having insisted we meet at daybreak which was when his office hours typically began). 

But I had decided to stay, visit the delicatessen and perhaps move into my uncle’s rooms that same afternoon, “home” being an anomaly or at any rate easily transportable, even from city to city.

Certainly, I wouldn’t miss my former quarters, which were cramped, filthy, and noisy. I was also in arrears with my rent. Moreover, I had left nothing behind of consequence, everything I needed—passport, photo ID, bank book, a few meager clothes—already in my possession. 

on the bus

On the bus I’d doze off, suitcase jammed against my knees, the seat next to me now occupied now by a burly male nurse in an Afro, wearing thick glasses and reading a religious pamphlet, but he put it away before I could glimpse its title or the name of the sect.

Rising, he apologized profusely—he had moved the suitcase in order to sit down—and squeezed past me into the aisle.

The bus stopped in front of a hospital, St. Aban’s, the remaining passengers mostly hospital staff: nurses, residents, medical technicians, all clad in scrubs of varying colors and moving en masse to the front of the bus.