Two - At the Inn

South of Paseo De Peralta on the corner of Buena Vista and Old Santa Fe Trail stands the Inn of the Turquoise Bear where history casts a shroud of mystery comparable to any worthy haunted house. This old estate turned B&B has been the scene of extraordinary parties, a place where political influence was peddled and a redoubt for famous writers to find their muse or perhaps to privately imbibe.

For a few hours after arrival we thought our shuttle driver had taken an erroneous turn and dropped us at the The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.  In fact, Maggie Smith and Judi Dench may have drawn their character studies from guests at the Inn.  The general state of repair at the Inn was certainly better than The Marigold, but stories about purled sheets, rough towels, dim lighting, bottled water that costs a buck, a smallish shower, and unexpected rules were a bit inconsistent with the images created by the Inn's website.  It was later on our walk back from dinner that we noticed the realtor's sign, "For Sale", outside the wall on the Santa Fe side of the Inn.

Keeping with tradition, the guests of the Inn gather at six to drink wine and to talk.  On this evening those who gathered were all of the age when talk too quickly devolves to aches, pains, prescriptions and personal complaints.  That is, our age or a little more, or a little less – the age of self-centered boomers and erstwhile flower children.   The talk turned to aging and sickly parents.  As wine was delivered from a seemingly bottomless carafe, the stories grew and became more animated.    

Some mysteries of the Inn were revealed and new ones suggested.  Our innkeepers, who we all came to like enormously, have led interesting lives.  Ralph, a tenured professor for four decades taught the most popular course on campus, Human Sexuality.  Such success did not make him immune to forced retirement as he wrestled with his next chapter in life.  In the 1960s, as a Peace Corps volunteer, he was assigned to a mountain village in a remote part of Peru.  Nine years ago and about forty years after he lived in the village, he returned to visit.  Still known to some who lived in the village, he felt called to help again.  The result is a new foundation formed to help the village and to educate the kids there.  The proceeds from the "buck a bottle" water goes to help give the Peruvian kids books and better teachers.

While Robert was in the kitchen refilling the wine carafes, Ralph confided that the Inn was for sale because he was concerned for Robert's health and because Ralph’s travel kept him thousands of miles away for weeks at a time.  Robert, who was clearly in charge of all operations at the Inn, was educated as an oncologist and more than conversant in everything from chemistry to interior design.  In putting together the timelines, we surmised that he may have only practiced medicine for ten or fifteen years.  But it would have been at the height of the AIDS epidemic when causes, cures and cancers dominated the minds of high risk groups and the general public.

The wine was working its own sort of magic.  Two of the women must have been sisters because their stories were about the same mother suffering through the ill effects of dementia.  Men saw such things differently.  One told, with a touch of pride, about his highly organized mom who had planned and paid for all of her “arrangements”.  Another said that when his mother passed, one of his sisters fought hard against cremation.  So they told that sister to come and tend to the arrangements –  mom was cremated.  Later they found something their mom had written where she said cremation was her preference. 

One couple shared that when they first fell in love they talked about living until 80 which seemed like an unattainable goal (what was wrong with those kids?).  Their pact, comparable in import to vows, was made.  At 80, they would fly up in their two-seat plane and augur-in so they could go together.  Ah well, neither can pass the physical to qualify for a pilot's license so such plans had to be put aside - anyway they’ve decided 80 isn't that old.

It was no great leap for the talk to transition to how old people should be allowed to choose how and where they die.  European countries were touted as "enlightened" bastions for the aging.  One guy spoke to the worry that his spouse was amassing pills to have control over destiny.  Finding and flushing those pills was one of his goals.  The group comedian mused that he shouldn't worry - when the time came to use pills, none of us would remember where we put something we’d been hiding.

The banter between Ralph and Robert made for lots of laughs.  They regaled us with stories about the Inn and spoke in lower tones as they told about the book they would write.  One full chapter would be dedicated to the worst guest ever – present guests were not under consideration.  They chuckled as they told about the crotchety old Boston lady who thought the lights were too dim, the sheets were purled, the shower too small and the armoires insufficient for her wardrobe.  As they recounted each vignette, they would finish each other's sentences or make corrections like any other old married couple.  

Soon the conversation waned as the time came for the other six, semi-related guests to head to their dinner.  We sat a while longer to talk with Ralph and Robert.  New guests began to arrive and Robert was excitedly making preparations.  These new guests were gay couples whose names and stories we didn't yet know.  But like the long list of guests who have slept a night in this place, their stories will add to the history and mystery of the historic hacienda that has become the Inn of the Turquoise Bear.

When we walked back up the hill and entered into the estate, the lights were ablaze in the dining room.  Voices and laughter from the main house were riding the breeze.  We might have sensed the lingering leather scent of a 1935 Cord or Bentley having deposited a celebrity of the time at the foot of the stone steps that rise up to the main house.  The parties and the ghosts are the lore known only to the walls of the Inn of the Turquoise Bear.
  

Whether precursor or omen – next came a journey to the Secret City.

--td