This year I will be participating in NaNoWriMo. If that’s just a bunch of letters to you, go here. I will be writing a humorous novel about a butler named Stewart. You can check it out here. I have included the beginning below, if you’d like to read. If people like this enough. I may post more excerpts on my blog as I write them.
I was there the day that Stewart arrived, but I didn’t answer the door. I think Bobby did. Bobby or Aden. In any case, someone opened the door and there stood Stewart. It was the end of August–a new semester at St. Elmo’s was about to begin–and it must’ve been in the upper 80s, but he still wore a three-piece suit. I don’t think any of us ever saw him wear anything else. He asked if the fraternity needed a butler, and said he would work for room and board. I think Bobby thought it was a joke–something that Beta Beta Phi had cooked up–because he said sure. Stewart had nothing with him but the one briefcase he was carrying, and he moved in right then.
The rest of us didn’t hear about Stewart until that evening. I remember coming back to my room to find that someone had made my bed and taken my dirty clothes off the floor, cleaned them, folded them, and put them neatly in my dresser. I walked across the hall and burst into Harper’s room, thinking he must have been behind it, but to my surprise, I found his room–which was usually messier than mine–to be equally spotless.
Harper came up behind me and asked, “What’re you doing in my room?” He looked over my shoulder, saw his empty floor, and exclaimed, “Where the hell is all my stuff?”
He tried to grab me, but I backed away and said, “Someone’s cleaned our rooms!”
It didn’t take us long to find out everyone’s room had suffered a similar fate to ours, except Andy’s. That freak probably still wakes up at 6am every day to dust his bedside table and vacuum his carpet. Anyway, before long, a mob of angry brothers had assembled by the foosball table downstairs, all blaming each other, but no one fessed up. It might have come to blows if Stewart hadn’t walked in carrying a serving dish set with tea cups and asked if we were expecting company.
“Who the hell are you?’ asked Harper.
“I’m Stewart,” he replied. “I’m the butler for Beta Alpha Tau.”
“Since when did we have a Butler?”
“Since this morning. Would you like anything with your tea? I’m afraid I could not locate any biscuits in the kitchen.”
And that was that. Beta Alpha Tau had a butler, and from that point forward, you could always find biscuits and tea in the kitchen. At first, we all demanded that he never make our beds or wash our clothes again, but eventually we all grew accustomed to Stewart. He would not only do our laundry and clean our beds, he would also cook three meals a day for anyone who happened to be at the house, make tea in the afternoons, clean the house, and do the dishes. He addressed our members as “Master so and so,” and knew everybody’s name without asking. No matter what time of day you arrived at the house, he would answer the door and offer to take your coat, even when you didn’t have one on.
But these aren’t the reasons why Stewart is special to me. That’s its own, long story, and if you ever read this Stewart, I just want you to know that you’re the second best person I’ve ever met.