Day Butler on King



"But Uncle Merle," would say Little Jack what seemed to be twenty times a day.  It was how Little Jack said it, with a long and sentimental emphasis on Uncle that got to Merle and always made him think about Jody and Buffy in the old melodrama TV show Family Affair, which he used to watch

as if it were a minor religion when he was a kid.  Mistress Suzanne was also a fan of the old show. In fact, she said upon his interview for the job as 'Day-Butler,' "I'm looking for someone who is a cross between Mr. French and a Charleston chef.  You fit the bill."  Merle had no children of his own.  When he moved to Charleston, his job as local meat

selector at Husk was one of the most enviable side-chef jobs in the city, no doubt, but he wanted to live on King Street and there was no way he could afford that coming directly off the boat, so to speak, from Florida. Certainly no funds to draw from just as yet.  He applied to get into the King building by re-creating himself – as what was advertised as a Day Butler.  No problem, he thought, as he looked through a very minimal amount of the creative fine print on the contract.  I've cooked, I've cleaned, and overall I've janitored for my own six brothers and sisters growing up, he said to himself, so why not Day Butler?  Mistress Suzanne Manchester, as she demanded to be called, only had to hear that Merle was at Husk and her entrancing brown eyes, heavily laden with artwork around the lashes, lit up.  "You're hired."  Mistress Suzanne's husband, it turned out, owned the building

along with what Merle came to learn sixteen other pieces of property down in Charleston, which was, frankly, a coup d' real estate, unheard of for a city which had boasted the number one travel destination in America for nearly a decade running.  The husband got into the Monopoly of the downtown historical district before all the city's awards began to roll in and he now owned some of the hottest commodities in the nation. If one small pub and eatery didn't make it – too many plans, not enough financial backing – it didn't matter.  There was always another up and coming chef in the making licking his or her own chops waiting to invest a week later.  It was because of this stroke of luck and investment brilliance that the family was able to virtually pick and choose tenants in the King building.  They kept the fifth floor vacant until

they found the right tenant, depending upon their family needs.  Mr. Manchester set up his own fishing guide, his wife and children two doors down; Little Jack's tutor lived across the hall (what help he was Merle found out quickly!). An ice cream maker called home three doors down.  It wasn't exactly the kind of natural set-up Merle would have ever considered plausible based on where he grew up, on a small farm on the outskirts of the Soldier Grove, Wisconsin, but this was the new game

 he was in, and he was, for lack of a better way of putting it, game.