The Codman Place
Part Five
"Minor Antiques Problems"
My
Grandmother, who kept telling everyone what to do whenever anyone of us stood
still for even a second in her sight (this quality seemed to be especially in
use on me), kept right on me about what to “move” when “Richard leaves”. The problem with that was, as near as I
could tell during… the first three days… that I “cleaned out” “the barn”… not
only did he not leave but he DIDN’T DO ANYTHING EITHER. Anthony (“Ant”), who was driving the
loads for my grandmother said that was all he ever did anyway. He had a bad side to Richard the whole
time we moved together. He said he
was a “lazy piss” and I remember that to this day because that kind of talk was
just being introduced to me and: I
remember also how Ant explained “You know how when you piss’en over the bank of
the river but your look’en OFF over the river and not where your piss’en” as to
how THAT was a “lazy piss”. I
don’t think I’ve ever pissed over the bank of a river ever again without
thinking about Ant saying that to me.
I’d never thought about it till then but he was right about that kind of
piss. I still don’t know if he was
right about Richard. It seemed to
me that Richard, especially at first, was watch’en everything I moved like a
hawk. Just because he didn’t help
us didn’t mean he wasn’t doing something even though Ant was right that he
wasn’t doing “ANYTHING” to help us.
I
would ride with Ant to this barn across the river that my grandmother knew the
people and had ‘em give her an “OK”[1]
to use …what proved to be a pretty sharp hiding hole for her plunder. That barn had a big ole front door that
we would drive in. We had a whole
left side all the way down that was empty to “drop” our loads in. We were instructed to drive all the way
down to the end at the start and “drop” as “FAR BACK” as we could and “pack it
in tight”. Ant seemed to know what
my grandmother wanted because he was always very careful to be sure that
everything was stacked right up tight even though it seemed to me there was
enough space to play football in that barn. We had that side for only a month (this being the end of
June) for that space, a ground floor, was for “the late hay” that the owners
“cut & sold out” “in the winter”.
So… what ever went in had to go “out” pretty quick. My grandmother understood this but
didn’t seem to mind packing it in there.
I learned right quick why.
She
made us leave this one stall at the very end open. It was about one truck load in size. She and my mother would drive one of
their cars down to the far end ahead of where we were “dropping”. They; my mother and grandmother, would
spend most of the day back there in that barn. They would come to the house only in the morning and right
after lunch. There they’d look
around a little bit and tell us what to do and then leave. The rest of the day they’d be at the
back of the barn “sorting”. What
they did was to “go through” everything and take out what they “want” and put
that in their cars and… take it over to ANOTHER barn that my grandmother stored
stuff in for years. IF what they
“want” was too big, they make us move it out into the center and then, after
they had a “few things”, make us truck it over to that barn. It was like clockwork. As the stuff was sorted it was re-packed
starting at that empty stall. When
we first came in with a new load we’d have to place what my grandmother wanted
moved outside the barn before we’d unload. I know now what they were doing. Those two knew what to do.
They
were taking so much out “blind” (without ever having “looked” at it), they
couldn’t tell what they got. So
they’d sort it as fast as they could in the barn; out of sight of anyone, take
the “good stuff” out and …back fill with “the rest”. Don’t think that the rest was “no good” cause it was
GOOD. In fact it was… as I now
know… pretty well choreographically re-packed to please the eye of ANY
antiquarian AND also had a “remember that” IF Richard and his wife… “come over
to see” “all of it”… WHICH THEY DID.
Meanwhile all that the (“real good”) “anyone would take” “stuff” was,
ah… “gone”. It’s sort of the same
as changing cars after a bank robbery ain’t it.
Anyway,
I was still learning that but Ant; he understood that but he was especially OK
about it after my grandmother gave him this old shotgun he “found”. He wouldn’t shut up about that and kept
it right behind the seat of the truck the whole time we worked and was always
talking about “how” “if Richard knew”.
Well… even I KNEW that the gun weren’t that good THEN but Ant was sure
fetched with it. He just loved it
and he still had it hidden in his house the last time I saw him which is
probably twenty years ago. He was
always afraid Richard was gonna see it and remember it and we used to laugh
about that and how Richard never even knew that gun was in the barn.
WHEN
Richard and his wife came over… it was twice. The first time they came over “to see”. That went pretty good for when they the
“to see” everyone just stood around and said how “like so much junk” all that
stacked up stuff looked like. The
next time they came over because they “thought” they “wanted” a “picture”
they’d “were sure” they’d seen “in the shed” of the “house” (the Codman Place)
to “KEEP” as a “MEMORY”. Well… my
grandmother didn’t know what they were talking about even when they tried to
describe the little box it was in that “folded closed” and how it had Old
Henry’s father out in front they thought and how it was about “this big” and
they held a book sideways to show that size. So she told them to come over and look through the stuff if
they wanted. They did that and
after about two hours they gave up and said how much old junk there was that no
one would ever believe a house that “small” could ever have “held all
that”. They got all dirty too and
they didn’t like that but they still hawked on about that picture and wanted my
grandmother to bring it over “when she found it”. Well… every old photo my grandmother “found” that she
thought had “the house” in it she brought to show ‘em but it was never the
right one. A lot of times it
wasn’t even the Codman place in the photograph but my grandmother showed ‘em
anyway and they kept telling her how those “AREN’T THE HOUSE EVEN”. After awhile they give up the issue
and, in the end, didn’t even take the photograph of Old Henry with his first
car out in front of the barn that they’d said they “Want that too” at first.
NOW
I know TOO well my grandmother was gonna be “THE GOD DAMNED” if they were gonna
“go after” “that dag” for she knew a full well what that was[2]
and… any damn fool would NOW but then… those were still “neat” “old”
“photographs”… commercially anyway… BUT:
HELL and high water did not scare my grandmother off of ANY antique in
ANY old house and… I can pretty much say I learned that good too. So there and… well… don’t YOU come as
to “what happened to that” caused I’ll “What?” and the “I don’t” and, ah… THIS
STORY …for you… is about “buy’en” an old place “out” and if you ain’t a better
at it after read’en this then you’s missed whole lot ah point that I DIDN’T
MISS when I was just young snap.
What that means is …you can see why we trucked all that to that barn
across the river and back?
Back
inside the Codman place is where the real action took place only one would
never know even if you stood there the whole time and …even asked “What are you
doing?” over and over. On that
first morning I was upstairs in the barn with a bunch of cardboard boxes and
newspaper before Richard knew what had happened. Once we were both up there the old “What do we need THAT
for?” came out right about the boxes because… most everything up there was
already in boxes and… those boxes were bigger, made wood and covered with barn,
ah… “soiling”. We both looked
around in the dark at the mounds and Richard started to say something about
“getting a light”. My grandmother
shut him off like a light on that with “YOU DON’T NEED A LIGHT: PUT IT OUT IN THE YARD TILL THE TRUCK
COMES”.
We
did that. It was only about ten
minutes so… well.. we were only bringing the second box down; it was a trunk,
when Ant… backed right up to the barn and… weren’t he the dynamo when he was
“pay him good”. He took charge and
since he knew Richard like the peas in a pod (and also “had grown up with your
uncle” to me) AND… knew nothing about “antiques and that old stuff”… he’d say…
but I think he knew a little more than he let on… I was suddenly going up and
down that barn stairs like a popcorn vendor at the ballpark… while he and
Richard “shot shit” by the truck and…:
Well… when I “free that up” by his instruction, we would ALL “move it
out” right into that truck. I was
getting the dirtiest but I will say that Ant come right along in that regard
while …Richard managed to avoid even bending over. Right quick therefore we had a “full load” and… we drove off
in that truck to… that barn across the river where “Your grandmother IS”.
And
she stayed there. Till
“dinner”. Just “how smart is she”
(according to Ant) began to manifest.
ANT was in charge of removing the “stuff” from the “place”. ANT! And he had no idea what he was doing! And I was “helping him”. And I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS
DOING. We were suppose to “clean
it out”. That’s what we did except
for all the time we spent joking about Richard doing nothing. That’s what HE did: Nothing. And we never even saw the wife because… she spent her whole
time over at the NEW house.
At
“dinner” Ant went off in the truck somewhere that I never asked but he was
always right back in forty-five minutes… with a clean set of his green clothes
on. He wasn’t suppose to smoke
“around you” but he got rid of that …law… right away by telling me to
“never-ever smoke” (I never have) and smoking the whole everything up (at the
barn door with Richard and all the time in the truck as we drove) EXCEPT for
the last minute before we came in front of my grandmother. Not that she didn’t know or care; she’d
bid her peace on the subject so it was up to Ant to flank her. Some “flank” huh. He improved that by… managing to always
swing by “the gas & go” store about three or four times a day where he was
pretty well known and well; “get a soda” but toward the end of the day Ant
switched from “coffee” to “ICE TEA” he called it. “ALL those WOMEN drink ICE TEA so give me one of THEM TOO!”
he’d say in the store and Evelyn; the big ole woman at the counter would laugh
and hand up a big bag of what I figured out was a …quart bottle of beer… that
he’d “refresh” throughout the afternoons.
Noth’en wrong with that.
But
at …that first dinner… I didn’t say much.
I listened to a conversation between my grandmother and mother that ’id
curl a whole receipt pad of an antique dealer right up into a “big mother ole”
bank deposit. It was “you
understand already” “in context” chatter but… it divided heaven & earth in
that “Codman Place” up into “minor antiques problems”.
[1] : I’m pretty sure that had a little
bundle of money in that “OK” too because the people were always really friendly
to Ant and me even when we were there in the early morning dark and had to park
outside and leave the truck lights on to see. They liked Ant a real lot because he was always asking about
their daughter who he called “That’s the PRETTY pumpkin!”. She was younger than me and was always
hiding in the barn while we worked.
Emily was her name: “LITTLE
Emi” to differentiate from her grandmother who lived there too.
[2] : A half plate daguerreotype showing the
front of the Codman house with a man in a long wagon with a banner that read
“Buchanan” tied along the side of the wagon enclosed in a homemade wooden box
that could be hung up so the lid folded downward when it was open but could be
closed up too.
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