The Old Man

My sister called me today. She had received a call from a potential buyer who she described as an old man with an accent. He was to be driving by my property and getting back to her. My sister was alerting me to watch for him and, if I wanted, I could invite him in and show him around.
I meet the nicest people trying to sell this shack. A lot of nice people would like to buy the shack. The nice people don't have any money.
About 40 minutes later, interrupting my attempt to blank my mind and find another plane, a Toyota Corolla pulled in front of the gate, blocking it, and parked. I watched as an older gentleman with white hair under a tan golf cap exited the car and, sure enough, walked right around the gate and up the driveway. I could see he was old. I tell the story like he moved quickly, but actually the whole procedure was a controlled, careful combination of rather jerky movements that had little fluidity and much determination, and moved him forward at a slow pace while barely bending his knees. Nevertheless, he was halfway up the driveway by the time I went out and introduced myself.
I stuck out my hand and said, "I'm Bradley Austin."
He took my hand and said something that sounded like, "Bran Ray."
I noticed he had an accent, and I said again, "Yes, I'm Bradley Austin." But this time more slowly, so he could pick it up .
Again he mispronounced my name, so a third time I stated it. Maybe he didn't hear well, too.
Then he slowly said in his accented voice so I could hear, "Yes, Mr. Austin, I'm Van Ray."
I think I blushed a little and asked him in. We toured the cabin.
I demonstrated all the amenities, and then I asked, "It's all a man needs, but don't you think it might be a little rough for your wife?"
"Oh, we'll just use it for camping," he said.
"Let me show you the upstairs," I responded.
Upstairs, I invited him to sit in my chair. He sat at my desk and faced to the north.
"Oh yes," he said. "I like the view."
Then he faced me and said, "I have an unusual proposition for you. I'm 90 years old and my wife is 88 years old. We're not going to be around very long and so we thought we'd offer you $10k and then will the property back to you when we die." He continued, "Look, we can't live too much longer. I'm already 90. In these hard economic times we thought you might take the deal."
I smiled at him and said, "You look like you have another 20 years in you at least. I wouldn't want to bet against you."
He answered, "That would make me the oldest man in America, don't be ridiculous."
More than willing to reassure me he would die quickly and I would soon have my property back. Seeing he was earnest and ready to negotiate, I then explained to him why I could not accept his offer. He was disappointed and offered me an additional $100 a month while he was alive. I further explained my business and finally, not wanting to be harsh, I told him I would consider all offers presented in written form. He was encouraged and I saw him out and down the driveway.
Later, relating the story back to my sister, adding that if he was a moll he got all my information, she said, "Maybe... Although he said he lives on Highway 199 by the community college. There is an old folks home there. Maybe he hates it so much he wanted your cabin to escape senior living."
Which made more sense than his story of buying the shack to use for camping. The senior home is only 40 minutes away, he could use it as a base for 'camping'. I have to hand it to the old man, whatever plan he had in his mind, whether it was imagined, unrealistic or not, he still had the gumption to come up here and make a pitch.