The Tempest; Act 1, Prologue 3

Prologue 3

Paul walked into the emptied lobby of the place. Three months ago, this place was teeming with people; the sane and insane while they go about their daily lives. But all of that was to change when his Attorney served them the order of closure. The management argued to the Board of Trustees; a front he created with some notable associates who answered solely to him and replied to what they had to say to others.

"Its was a failing business. With the Great Depression, no one would pay for this place anymore. And we cannot afford to only housed the poor and infirmed. We would shut the doors and await better days." The prepared text was given to the Chairman who reluctantly read the speech notes.

Three months was too short to move so many hundreds but the schedule worked. It was a beehive of activities with no one having the time to think or grumble on the move. The staff were finally paid and only a handful retained. They were there the day Paul Miller walked in.

"Mr Miller, these are the staffs retained." Gonzales introduced them. "Steven, Timothy, Marge and Alice."

"Who is he?" Paul asked of Gonzales of the young boy standing behind at the pillar.

"He is an inmate with no place or relatives to go." Timothy spoke out. "He was born here...."

Paul stopped the nurse from continuing on. Marge was to speak but Steven stopped her.

"The little nitwit I was told that joined us something back. He had grown much." Paul recalled the kid they adopted. "Well he had to go. Find him an orphanage or something."

It was then the little boy rushed up. He stood there and clasped his hands together like in a prayer.

"I begged you, Sir. Please let me stay. I would be your servant till you released me or let death claimed me." The boy looked to the older man. "I give you my words, Sir."

Paul looked down to the short boy.

"And how would you know if your words meant anything?" Paul asked. "Many people have sworn to me their words, but I had found them of no value to my use. I had them removed instead. I kept my words to them."

"Aye, Sir. I am Ariel. No last name. But I would served you well." Ariel looked to the man. "Those are words to you but to me, its a solemn promise."

"Where did you learned to speak like that?" Paul asked him.

"I learned from the others. I am a fast learner." Ariel replied with a smile. It was his smile that swooned the older man that day.

Paul agreed.

"But as my personal servant." Paul told the short boy. Then from the back of the older man, a child was brought in on a roller bed. She was Miranda.

"You two would attend to her." Paul told the lady nurses, and then to the men. "You would be assigned to the West Block and you to the East Block. Keep it clean as I would come over."

It was the last time the four ever see each other.