The Retreat

The next day, I figured I would be given a check or deed to an old, musty house somewhere in New England. I certainly was not expecting any major changes to my life when the lawyer knocked on my apartment door. He was a tall, well-dressed man in a navy three-piece suit with a red-striped tie.He smiled down at me when I answered the door. “Mr. Cyrus?”he asked, referring to a folder full of papers in his hand. “Yes.” “May I come in, please?” He held out a business card, identifying him as William Garrison, attorney-at-law. “Could we please continue inside for more privacy?” “Certainly.”I ushered him into my small living/dining room and pointed to an easy chair. “Perhaps we could sit at the table?”he asked, smiling graciously. “And could you show me some form of picture ID before we proceed? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.” “Driver’s license OK?” I asked, getting out my wallet. “Certainly.” He nodded as he glanced from the license, to me, and back. Returning it, he smiled while sitting down at the old round table that served as my dining spot. I sat down opposite him, as he opened his folder. “I represent the Heritage Retreat. It is located a few miles north of here, in the village of New Castleton.” “Never heard of it or the town, I’m afraid.” “Many have not. But your second cousin on your mother’s side owned a room at the retreat. He died several months ago. You are the only living relative we have been able to find, so I am here to tell you about your inheritance.” He went on to explain that the man I called Uncle Hank had died and left all his money and properties to a charity in New York. But he had one other asset remaining that had to go to a person—a room at what Mr. Garrison called the retreat, which was an old monastery from the early 1800sthat was later converted into a private boarding school. That use had continued until after the Civil War, when it was used for educating former slaves on entrepreneurial matters under the auspices of those same monks, until financing dried up. After that, a group of investors bought the property to use as a meeting and retreat facility. When that failed during the Great Depression, it was taken over by another church group hoping to use it somehow, but that, too, failed. Finally, in 1955, businessmen bought the facility and formed a foundation to sell individual rooms to persons wanting to use the space for whatever purpose suited them. “Thus the Heritage Retreat was born—one room of which your mother’s second cousin owned and used regularly.” “I hardly knew him, but I didn’t think he was very religious.” “I can’t really address his exact usage of the space, but he died without naming someone to receive this gift. The ownership of the room reverted to the foundation managing the retreat. But our charter requires us to pass the room on to any next of kin that we can find before we offer it to the next person on our waiting list. Which brings me to you.” “And what am I supposed to do with it, exactly?” “That is totally up to you. I would suggest you come and visit. See the room, and then decide whether you wish to have it or not.” “I don’t really understand. Is it like a hotel room? Can I stay there all the time or what?’ “Actually, the foundation has set it up as a day retreat if you will. The building is staffed from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. During this time, you have access to your room for as long or as short as you wish. Monday through Saturday, there is a complimentary lunch buffet from around ten to three o’ clock, which is part of your ownership benefits. But Sunday is a quiet day—no food I’m afraid.” “Any other benefits?” “Just the serenity of the facility, the fellowship one may develop with others there, and the knowledge that it is yours for life and inheritable by anyone you might place in your will to receive it.” He smiled at me warmly. “Well, I’m curious, certainly. But what would I do there? “ “Whatever you wish. Write, compose music, meditate, do crossword puzzles, take a nap—all while knowing you will not be disturbed by the world in any way, as internet access and cell phone use is not allowed. Leave any devices that connect to the world and the internet in your car or at home. You may give your room away at any time; although, people on our waiting list would no doubt offer you a tidy sum for it. Your relative’s personal effects are there and are yours to take, of course.”