Story of the Castle (Part 2)

(The castle with a new floor-- I mean deck.. circa 2009. No better way to test out a deck than to have 30 people doing karaoke on it!)

In the days before kids-- honestly, in the days before most of our friends were even married-- we were in rough shape. We were about to be homeless; we didn't have any place to go that was even close to the size of our apartment at the time for the $700 it was costing us (for $700 we could get a large box with a toilet-shaped hole in the back), and we were in generally poor spirits. The only home we liked was about $30,000 out of our price range, and while Rachel's parents had suggested that we see it with them when they visited in a couple days, it didn't seem like much of an option; all the other homes we were looking at were four-families in 'developing' neighborhoods, which generally meant there wasn't much developing except addictions in the alleys of said properties. Not really a great scene.

So we prayed-- and though I suck at praying, this would be one of those times that the answer to prayer was so obvious even I saw it. We had one week left before we gave up and rented one of those $700 studio-type boxes referenced above, and we were going to look at three last properties before we called it quits. One of the three we had seen before-- it was the only one we had liked so far, and like most property virgins, it was also the one that we couldn't afford at all-- we might have had 15% of the down payment tops. So off we trudged-- not one but two sets of parents in tow, for my dad had decided to lend his building expertise to our little party. First we hit the one we liked-- a charming duplex with an asphalt yard (welcome to the city) and a neighbor who sat on the porch drinking beer and belching out of control-- it was a little crazy. (We were later to find out why he did this-- funny story.) It was still very cool and still out of our price range. As we were leaving, however, the Queen's parents subtly pulled us aside. "You know, we'd be willing to give you a loan to add to your down payment if you really want this house," they said. "Something like an advance on your inheritance." I think I actually twitched. First of all, advances on inheritances seem like a bad idea to me (what if they changed their mind and decided that you weren't worthy of an inheritance after all?) and secondly, completely overriding the first, was "Yes!" I tried to keep a straight face and said, "I think that would be a great idea, but let's at least look at the next two houses."

On the way to the second house I had really mixed emotions. Even with some upfront help, the house was still more than I wanted to owe; "on the other hand," as Tevye would say, it was hard to put a price on not being homeless. Plus, the second home that we were looking at was the one I had real hopes for. It was a three-family (read: we could basically live there for free off the other rents) in a neighborhood quite close to where I had grown up-- a much better fit in my book. Once we got there, it looked even better than it had on paper. Even upon further review, it had only three small things working against it. A) Strike one was that there was no off-street parking... a small hurdle, but not insurmountable. B) Strike two was that when we went into the unrented unit that we were hoping would be ours, the smell of methane was so strong that even our fearless realtor looked a little uneasy. "No one here smokes, right?" was the comment as we walked through. "The basement's this way." That comment set up C) STRIKE THREE! YOU'RE OUT! Did I mention that the basement came standard with a torture room? I honestly don't know what the actual function of the room was, but it was a subground basement room lit with one dingy light bulb, a small sink hanging gingerly off the wall in one corner, and bloodstained sheets draped over an egg-crate mattress. Pretty much sealed the deal on that one.

The third house was even more nondescript, except for the sleeping teenager in the bedroom that we all walked into. "Hey!" It was like a surprise birthday party, with about twenty times the awkwardness. At least it was just one teenager.

With those incredibly fun experiences under our belt, we were buzzing about the possibility of putting an offer in on the first house... until my parents walked up. "We have some strong concerns," they said, killing the party before it even began. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Tomorrow-- the stunning conclusion! (Well, honestly, if you haven't figured it out by now... you'll figure it out tomorrow!)