Dialogue Essays: Humble Beginnings

He sighed. Shifting in his throne-like chair, the Doctor picked up his tiny china cup and sipped, long and slow. His servant stood in the corner, eyes cast downward.
“Would you like another sweet-” A loud reverberating knock interrupted him mid sentence.
The native hurried to the gate, opened it a crack, and stuck his head out.
An Indian had come with his little baby, who had been stung by a scorpion. The moment the servant laid eyes on them, he felt a pang of guilt. He was absolutely certain that his master would refuse to treat who was considered dirt by the higher class people like himself. Nevertheless, he told them in the universal old language shared by the natives, that he would convey the message.
As predicted, the revolting man was nearly offended that any of the village people had come to get treated from a doctor of his power. Commanding the servant to tell them to scram, he returned to his solitary soliloquy. He had not had a patient for weeks, and was growing very restless. He did not understand why this was so, for he had everything he could possibly want: a large mansion, fine china, silk, an abundance of money. In fact, he was the wealthiest man in the entire town, except for the King himself. He did not require patients to survive. But one thing was surely missing in his life, the one thing that he once had, but he soon lost...

He was not always rich. There was a time when the Doctor had not fine china, but cheap plastic, not tea biscuits, but stone-hard toast, not dressed in silk, but in rags. There was a time when he was just a Somebody, a Nobody to everyone else.
Nathaniel Laurence Clarke. No one but he and his older brother William knew of the name. They had no memory of their parents, besides the fact...

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...is, Samuel paused.
"Why didn't you say anything before, boys? Of course you are hungry! Young children like yourselves need nourishment! The cook has prepared hors d'oeuvres and bouillabaisse. After, you can go enjoy the wonderful bath that awaits you upstairs. Does that sound good?"
It was all they could do to nod dumbly. They hadn’t understood a word of what he said was prepared, but it sounded like a marked improvement from the mushy, gray, porridge-type liquid that they were forced to swallow back home. Together they headed to the dining room for their meal. Everything was laid out perfectly for them. The food was served right under their noses, steaming hot. Looking at each other, they started to grin. It had just dawned on them that they might as well become accustomed to this lavish lifestyle… they were going to be living in this manner for quite some time.