Merrymeeting At Brown's Point

Merrymeeting At Brown’s Point

            “Twas just the STONEWARE they knew about.  Looked it up I guess.  LOOKED not very hard though because they FOUND it (got it for free).  THAT they’d hauled up.  The rest I went down after”.  Baxter had pushed his hat back and pushed his hand through his hair after setting the blue bird (robin) decorated stoneware crock on the barn floor.  I put it up on the table and took the photographs.  It’s not a maker’s name stamped at the top edge.  It’s a vender’s or proprietary stamp; appears to be “Kellogg  Boston”.  That’s how it came to Maine; on the train from Boston.  Full.  The maker (the pottery) was probably in Troy or Fort Edwards New York.  Possibly Bennington, Vermont.  Doesn’t matter because the robin is adorable.

            “First they say some sort of this and that.  So I say how come you sing song some crock to me at the (local downtown Bowdoinham country) store and when I come all the way out here you don’t know anything about it?”  Well …one goes to the other “SEE” and then out THAT comes so THERE I BE.  But I didn’t lean back.  Just stood.

            “That?  There it is?”  I say. 

            They look at each other.  “WE KNOW ITS GOOD.  It’s GOT THE BIRD!” they say

            “Oh.” I say and stand there silent.

            So it’s all silent.

            Then… they TWITCH and look at each other again.  And twitch again.

            So I say “WELL… HOW MUCH?

            They both look at me and one says “TWO HUNDRED FIFTY!”.

            SO… I PICK IT UP.

            “OK.” I say.

            They both look at me with their mouths open.  NOT ME; my mouth weren’t OPEN.  BUT I got that money OPEN.  All twenties and a ten.  They took it.

            “So I pick that crock up from the doorway and put it on the grass by my feet.  Then I say “WHERE’D you FIND IT?”

            “DOWN THERE.” one says and points.  I look past the end of her finger.  Nothing but BRUSH.  THEN I see a roof line.  Some building there; down by the water.

            “DOWN THERE?” I say.  “WHAT ELSE IT THERE?

            “Nothing”.

            “Nothing?”

            “Nothing but junk.”

            “Why don’t we go down there and LOOK at the junk.” I say.

            “IT’S JUNK” they say.

            “I BUY JUNK and PAY WITH THIS JUNK!” I say holding up the MONEY WAD.  Well they went to twitching and looking at each other so I say “LET’S GO”.  And we did.  OK?

            “Of course it HAD STUFF.  Some summer shed right on the bay.  Someone stayed there.  They’d STRIPPED the main house (the new owners had removed everything old from the old house)  Doing ALL KINDS of WORK.  Never touched that shed though.  One of ‘em FOUND that crock when they went out there to write POETRY or something.  So I KNOW that its junk to them.  So I say “I’ll buy some of this junk”.

            “Like what do you want?

            “That little table there four dollars” I say and pull the drawer.  Well you see what happened next; “MICE”.  Right?  Going all over the place.  So I say “OK ONLY TWO DOLLARS”

            “You said FOUR”.

            “But the mice”

            “FOUR”

            “So I give her four”. (The table, although rough and having the mice nest in the drawer is a splendid Maine country one drawer stand; all original with cut corners and a flaking light blue paint over the original old red paint.  Baxter knew all that as soon as he saw it). 

            “Then I bought the rest.  It was easy after the mice.  They didn’t touch anything at all.  I set the stuff outside as I bought it.  Those shutters are good early ones.  Must have come off the house.  Sticking them in that shed saved them”.  There was quite a bit more and the photographs give an idea of what some of it looked like.  Baxter and I did our business.  I asked him, in jest, if he wanted to keep the mouse nest.

            “It’s your problem now.” he said.