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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #2063868
Satirical piece about a late actors revealing of his will, creating some mixed reactions.

A Just Inheritance by Dean Carroll


It was a cold February afternoon, when I travelled with my wife Francine to the late Sigmund Pretorrie's mansion. As his cousin I was to attend the former actors reading of the will.

Stopping at the bottom of the road leading up to my late cousin's residence. I noticed that many cars had arrived already.

With Francine clinging to my arm I greeted the many actors and agents that had frequented Sigmund's life, some still currently on stage, other's I hadn't seen or heard of for years.

As a stage actor for forty odd years, Sigmund had a prolific acting career appearing in Shakespeare and occasionally on film, but with the onset of Parkinsons, he retired from acting, becoming reclusive. Holding onto a tight group of friends. I was one of them.

As I waited outside the house I greeted James, Sigmund's younger brother and complimented him on his funeral eulogy he had read out in remembrance of his brother. James smiled thinly in acknowledgment, and surveyed the crowd.

"All the vultures are out for their bit of the carcass I see," he sneered, at the multitude frequenting the mansion. Some having not bothered showing their faces at the service.

"Always the case James" I commented "They're always shown at their worst at these gatherings" I commented.

Meanwhile Henrietta arrived at the house, in a small Fiat Punto.

Having lived a modest life on a modest income, Henrietta still went out of her way to help her elder brother, and encouraging him into acting. In his later years she organised a home help to make Sigmund comfortable in the onset of his illness.

"Hello Henri" I smiled, given her a hug. I liked Henrietta immensely because despite the fame and fortune her brother possessed, she never felt envious, preferring to be content with what life dealt her, and be happy with that.

She surveyed the scene "I didn't know Siggie had so many friends" she said, eyeing up the building crowd. James sighed at her naivety.

As Henrietta walked off with her husband to greet the celebrities, a voice shrill and piercing, broke through the sombre talk, causing people to look around in surprise. I looked over as Sigmund's spoilt and obnoxious niece came bounding over with her mother.

"Hello Matilda!" I smiled, as James made himself scarce, barely acknowledging his sister and niece.

"Hi my man Paul" she said snapping a piece of gun in her mouth, hugging me tightly. I acknowledged Sigmund's sister, Rosamunde, who looked in smug pride at her daughter.

"What's Uncle Sigmund promised you then?" she asked, cutting to the chase.

Unable to answer her I told her it was secret.

"Well Siggie promised me a car." She bragged. I listened on incredulously. "Well it had better be, or I'll be digging him back up myself" she cackled loudly.

Rosamunde looked in snooty regard of her daughter "Matilda intends to go into acting like her uncle. Aren't you dear" she said proudly.

"Yeah! But I'm not going in for that Shakespeare crap. No way" she spat. "I'm gonna get me a top agent and get small parts in blockbusters, move up that way. Make my millions" She bragged.

I looked from Matilda to her mother who looked quietly contented. Unable to say anything else to this young whipper snapper, I smiled blankly.

"Well you have everything cut out for you already" I said absently, desperate to part company with them both.


*---*---*


At 3:00pm on the dot a black Bentley drove up the drive, carrying an elderly gentleman and a younger man, that stopped outside the house. Everyone stood in suspense as the solicitor struggled out from the car, aided by his partner. In his hand he carried a large expensive looking briefcase.

As the crowd gathered outside the door to the mansion. The solicitor introduced himself.

"Good afternoon everybody, friends and family of the late great Sigmund Prettori." He announced.

"I am Mr Peter Crooks of Crooks and Wigham." He explained. He then pointed to his assistant. "This is Charles Hatfield." he said, Hatfield nodded in acknowledgment

"As being chief executor of the late Sigmund Pretorrie estate, I will ensure that everyone concerned will receive their inheritance as signified in the will." Crooks declared.

Many were frustrated at the solicitors formal speech, wanting to get in the house, receive their inheritance, and leave.

The solicitor opened the door to the mansion, with a large heavy key, used to open the gargantuan lock. Flocking inside, everyone surveyed the place.

The place was dirty and decrepit. The furniture was covered in years of dust, and a heavy miasma of rot and mould filled the house, due to being unventilated for so long. Some of the snobbish of the clientele, smoothed their fingers along the furniture, producing cobwebs on their gloves, much to their disgust.

The guests followed Crooks into the main living room, where he sat down on a dusty old sofa, surrounded by the crowd, who all squashed in to hear the declaration. Hatfield standing beside the solicitor.

There was lingering tension and anticipation, as Crooks produced the will from his briefcase, opening it carefully, with a brass envelope cutter. Opening up an ornate pair of spectacles, he carefully placed them on his nose, and cleared his throat.

He read out a short statement from Sigmund, that each piece donated would be on merit of how each person conducted themselves. He said the first part of the will concerned friends and acquaintances.

All of Sigmund's agents and fellow actors each inherited pieces of art and furniture, some very valuable other stuff worthless. There was a mixture of glee and consternation as they were shared out pieces from the estate.

Barbara, Sigmund's home help, who had looked after him for nearing on a decade, was rewarded with Sigmund's collection of Clarice Cliff. Tears came to her eye as it was announced. I smiled gleefully at her.

Eventually all of Sigmund's friends and acquaintances had left the mansion, and now the will dealt with his family. Having had no family of his own, the will dealt with his brothers, sisters, cousins, nephews and nieces.

There was tension in the air, as Crooks prepared to read out the will, wondering who would get the majority slice of the pie.

Crook's read out Henrietta's name, and she swallowed deeply as Sigmund described her as loyal and trustworthy. He gladly donated a crown worn by Laurence Olivier in Richard III that was gladly donated to Sigmund by the man himself. She smiled at Sigmund's generosity and picked up the item off the cupboard bidding everyone good day.

The second part of the will concerned his youngest brother James, who he described as a friend and reliable to the upmost degree. The will said that James would find the possession under a burlap sack in the cellar, describing it as a surprise.


Curious, he and his son Howard left the lounge and found the cellar door in the hallway. Finding the light switch, a low wattage bulb barely illuminated the way, the stairs covered in cob webs. Reaching the bottom they surveyed the scene.

In the far wall was a wine rack and beside it they found what they were looking for. Uncovering the item, they couldn't fathom out what they had acquired.

The object looked like a mass of rubber, dusty and rotting, with tentacle like projections protruding from it. Shaking his head, James thought it was a piece of junk. Together with Howard they struggled up the cellar steps with the item, unwilling to reject the piece.

As they took the item through the living room, everyone looked on. Rosamunde sniggered with her daughter, who laughed at the offending item.

"It looks like you picked the shortest straw there Uncle James" Matilda scoffed. Saving face James smiled sarcastically and dragged the item out of the house.

The will was close to a conclusion and all that remained in the living room were myself, Rosamunde and Matilda.

Crooks read out the last will and testament to Matilda, who looked on expectantly, a smug smile on her face." To my dear niece Matilda, who I sadly seldom seen in life. I kindly donate my entire insect collection." He said

Matilda mouth dropped like a bomb and looked in shock at her mother.

"But he promised me a car" she shouted "He said I could have a beetle." She spat. It was there when the penny finally dropped.

Crook ordered Matilda to keep quiet who shook her head in frustration, while he read out the remainder of the will.

The next piece concerned Rosamunde. Crook' read out that he regretted the way things turned out, between them in life, but would like to compensate her with his wine collection.

Breathing out deeply with relief, she dragged her daughter down to the cellar, who was still remonstrating about her uncle's stinginess. "Don't worry dear, I can buy you something better when I sell a sell a few of Sigmund's finest." She tittered.

Climbing down the rickety cellar, they surveyed the scene. There was aisle after aisle of wine bottles, stacked together.

"Were rich!" Rosamunde screamed, jumping in the air with her daughter. "There must be a few hundred vintages here" she cried.

She whooped in the air, while Matilda examined the wines. Picking up one bottle, she examined it, followed by a second, then a third.

"Mother!" shouted Matilda, who was loudly jigging. "What dear!"" she said overcome with joy.

"Take a look." Said Matilda soberly, handing her a couple of bottles. Immediately her smile dropped off her face, before going into shock. Panicking she lifted bottle after bottle from the rack but all were empty. Suddenly she erupted into rage.

"Why that double crossing tight-assed brother of mine," she shouted, smashing the bottles on the floor in rage. Matilda looked on, unwilling to get in her way, when she got like this. Sitting on the cellar step, Matilda looked sick as a dog, as Rosamunde went on her breaking spree.


*---*---*


With myself as the sole benefactor left, I embraced Francine as the solicitor read out the remainder of the will. Crook's explained that the house itself and the remainder of the furniture was being donated to the salvation army, a charity which he had great praise for, it said in the letter.

But the will included myself. I listened intently as Crook's read that I was to receive a special artefact donated by Walt Disney. It said that I was to receive a dinosaur head as used in the film 'One of our dinosaurs is missing.'

I surveyed the prop hung on the living room wall, and was helped by Francine to lift it from its supports. Thanking the solicitor, me and Francine left with the cinematic piece, wondering how to fit it into the car.



As we made our way out of the house, I saw James struggling with the rubber object as he attempted to get it into his van. Lowering the dinosaur head, me and my wife walked up to clearly incensed James.

"I've a good mind to dump this piece of crap here" he cursed as he surveyed the rubber object.

"Don't threat!" I said helping him carry it. It was when I lifted a tentacle, that the secret was finally revealed. Attached to it was a yellowing envelope, attached to the tentacle by a coil of wire.

As I detached the envelope from the object, I handed it to James, who eagerly opened it, inside was a photograph and a certificate of authentication. Staring at the photograph, he couldn't fathom it out. Handing it to me, I looked at it. It was an old black and white photograph of several actors posing around an octopus type creature. The name of the film 'Plan 9 from Outer Space' emblazoned above it.

"Wow!" I said. Looking down at the piece of rubber. "You know what this is don't you." I said to James.

"What!" James croaked.

"You've got one of the main props from possibly the worst film of all time. You possess a piece of cinematic history. It's worth thousands" I said to him.

I recalled the film now. One of them Ed Wood Junior B-movies. And the scene where the rubber monster was used.

"Every cloud has a silver lining" I smiled, at the now chirpy James, who handed me the certificate to read.

As I read the yellowing certificate. Rosamunde and Matilda emerged from the house, with Matilda carrying trays of insects. In disgust she came to a bin and disposed of the collection, before climbing into Rosamunde's car. Never acknowledging us.

While we pulled the treasure into the van. The car pulled away a sullen look on both of their faces.


THE END


6

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