Coy - Part Twenty-Nine - "I Go A-Fishing" - (B)

Coy

Part Twenty-Nine

"I Go A-Fishing"

(B)

            The second fold... of ‘two fold’ (Part Twenty-Nine [A] opening):

            To leave... a building... hosting a public gathering... that is well attended... harboring ‘those that know you’ ...‘in a festive spirit’ (spiked eggnog?)... while carrying a cardboard box (“banana box”)... full of ‘bric-brac”... purchased from ‘the bric-brac table’: That this box full... is not bric-brac at all but actually ...’cleaned out’ ‘clutter’ from an... up until now (the setting up of the bric-brac sales table WITH the ‘cleaned out’ ‘clutter’ UPON that table “FOR SALE”)... was an undisturbed ‘old New England local Maine sea captain’s estate mansion ‘full of antiques’...:  That I ... carrying this box... may simply... make my way across the room to the front door and LEAVE?

            “NOT SO FAST MR. MAN.”

            “I was JUST GOING to MY CAR with THIS BOX.”

            “And then your coming back inside and visiting OUR table YOU HAVEN’T EVEN GONE ANYWHERE you HAVE TO BE  NICE AND VISIT ALL THE TABLES and BUY SOMETHING and be very polite and chatty and the picture perfect gentleman to these... into the eggnog... “Girls, girls, girls”... “MY TABLE HAS ALL THE SCARFS AND MITTENS”.

            “Got cha.  I’m gonna put this in the car.”

            “ANDCOMERIGHTBACK”.

            (“The eggnog is spiked?”)

            (“Yes dear.”)

            “NOWYOUHAVETOBENICE”.

            (“Spiked eggnog at ten in the morning? YUCK.”)

(“Stay away from women luring you into the pantry”): (“IWANTTOSHOWYOUSOMETHING.”).

            “Got cha.”

            So I go out to the car and come back.  And go to the ‘scarf and mittens’ ‘table’.  I don’t want a scarf... or a mitten.  Arriving at the table I behold a table full of an un-sold ...scarf and mitten ...selection WITH... A... World War I era (late Edwardian) heavy cut glass flower vase in the center of the table WITH... as previously denoted back at the bric-brac table... a nasty neat tiny white price sticker with nasty neat in handwritten ink a “3.00” PRICE... ‘right on it in plain sight’ (Part Twenty-eight):  “I’ll buy this” I hear myself saying as I raise the HEAVY glass vase upward to... discern... ‘it’, its price tag and... the... OBVIOUS that this TOO ‘came from the Savage estate and that ‘yes dear’ Janet-of-the-silver-fork... had purloined ‘it’ from the bric-brac ‘during set up’ to “PLEASE GET THOSE PINE CONES ON PINE BOWS OUT OF IT”.  (She actually put WATER in it “to keep them [the pine cones] from drying out”)

            I bought it including the “YOU CAN’T BUY THAT I’M USING IT”

            “It’s got a price sticker on it.”

            “Oh... I didn’t see that”.

            “Here’s three bucks”.

            “YOU HAVE TO BUY SOMETHING NICE.”

            (Mittens or scarf... take your pick.)

            (I did mittens... fast.  No hesitation.  Especially no hesitation when with “Girls, girls, girls”... and spiked eggnog ...at ten in the morning”.  “FIFTEEN BUCKS JESUS”.

            “Twelve for you thank you.”

            I pay.

            I’m still holding the vase.  Should I put the mittens on?  Where’s Mr. (Dump) when I need him; he’d know what to do.

            I think... Janet’s a little gone?

            “What if she falls backwards?”

            Time to go.

            “GINGER... WHERE’S GINGER?” Janet starts... ... saying... and ‘frantically’ looking around.

            Ginger is her dog.

            Ginger did not win the costume contest.

            Ginger IS found (spied) ...over by the Christmas tree with a ...those things are always rock hard... gingerbread man in her mouth:  A tiny ‘fussy fur’ MOP running around dragging leash in a room full of “Is the eggnog spiked?  I think the eggnog’s SPIKED”.

            “Oh God help me.”

            I say and ...slid... step... away to my left carrying the vase and mittens (“Go ahead; put ‘em on”) (I do not) to the first of three consecutive “FOOD” “TABLES” (“the”).

            OF ‘BAKED GOODS’

            Cookies.

            Brownies.

            “I think.”

            “Don’t know WHAT that is?”

            “ON THE PLATE!  LOOK AT THE PLATE!”

            “WAIT:  THE CENTER PIECE.”

            “It’s filled with?”

            I’m picking it up; a clunky VICTORIAN... square top open glass compote.

            THERE’S THE price tag (JUST THE SAME as the other PRICE TAGS):  FOUR DOLLARS.

            “It’s full of WHAT?”

            “Those are all homemade bonbons”

            “I want to buy the VASE”

            “It’s a COMPOTE CERTAINLY YOU CAN.  Here... we’ll put all of those on this PAPER plate.”

            (“She’s selling it?  To me?  She knows it’s priced?  No eggnog?”)  “THE PLATE”

            Plates...:  There are more of them;  there’s one.  Two.  There; that one’s a small platter?  There’s another plate.  Price one dollar?  OK... LOOK CAREFULLY.  THERE’S ANOTHER ONE.

           

            What I’ve ‘spied’ (discovered) is that ...upon the table top ...numerous antique English Victorian Staffordshire ...brown transferware... plates have been used to ‘put cookies (etc.) on” and that these plates are... “obviously” old china from the SAVAGE ESTATE (two) boxes of clean out clutter donation that too, like the cut glass vase, have been purloined for ‘display’ from the bric-brac table and are ‘already priced’ so ARE for sale “Here’s another one too”

            “Look at all you’ve FOUND.  Here:  We’ll put all the cookies on these PAPER PLATES,”

            “Sorry to do this to your display but I LOVE these old dishes.”

            “Oh no that’s FINE.  They ARE for sale.  AND I don’t have to CLEAN THEM UP.  Well... I COULD WASH THEM again for you.

            “Wash them?  No, no.  They’re FINE the way they ARE.” I say while trailing my gaze over the whole table tops and DO SPY:  I side step to reach for, lift upward while scrutinizing the... 1880’s blue pressed glass – pattern glass square open top table compote... full of, again, “WHAT?” but CLEARLY price stickered “$6.00”.  “I’ll get this too.” I say handing the whole ...including contents... to the ...actually very proficient, adept, steady and ‘get the job done’ “no eggnog for me thank you” who takes it with one hand, sets it down and says:

            “I’ll get a BOX for all of this from the KITCHEN.”

            And leaves.

            And does that.

            And comes back.

            And I am standing there.

            And “YOU DIDN’T BUY DAN.” comes from ...Janet-of-the-silver-fork... from the ‘back-up-there’ of her table.

            I look up to see Janet holding a small teddy bear.  I know the form.

            Cold.

            “How much?” I say.

            Janet starts looking for... in a slightly discombobulated-from-the-eggnog manor and... quickly finds a “SIX DOLLARS” price sticker... on the bear’s ear.

            “OK.  I’ll buy it.”

            “HIM.”

            “HIM.”

            “THIS IS DAN.” She says and then turns to another woman beside her and says “WHERE’S DAN’S BAG.  I’M SELLING DAN.  WHERE’S DAN’S BAG?”

            That woman... of-the-eggnog-too (?)... whips (as a vigorous upward full arm jerk motion) a... “bag”... that, in red, has “DAN” embroidered on its... buff white canvas trimmed in red handles... small.... zipper toped L.L. Bean classic ‘Boat and Tote’ ‘Made in USA’ “tote bag”... that is:

            Handed to Janet.  She... actually affectionately... places Dan in ...his bag.

            I have glanced off to the woman-packing-the-box-with-antique glass and china... behind the table so Janet’s “YOUR REALLY GOING TO BUY DAN?” blindsides me.

            I correct my view and affirm “YES.”

            “HE COMES WITH HIS BAG.  That’s HIS BAG.”

            “I see that.”

            (Careful; spiked eggnog on board).

            “Why are you buying HIM.  HE’S NOT OLD.”

            “I like Dan.” I say quickly.

            “You DO like DAN?” says Janet.

            “Yes I do.” I say.

            “You’re a NICE man when you WANT TO BE”.

            Having set my vase and mittens down as the glass and china ‘buy up’ took place, I am able to quickly hand Janet six dollars in cash.  SHE hands Dan (in his bag) to the woman packing my ‘old glass and china.”  This woman takes Dan-in-bag and puts him on top of the packed box.  “Let’s SEE.” she says looking over a penciled slip of paper.  “That will be EIGHTEEN dollars.”

            “AND SIX FOR DAN.” chimes-in Janet.

            “I just paid you.”

            “The six dollars?”

            “It’s in your HAND.” I say gesturing toward the cash... in her hand.

            “OH... YES you DID.” She says.

            The food table woman is now handing the box across to me with Dan-in-bag on top.  I receive the box from her, set its edge on the table’s edge, put my vase and the mittens next to Dan-in-bag, lift the box back up and

            “You WANT ME to WRAP that VASE?” says the woman.

            “No I’m fine.” I say.  I rotate to my left... away from Janet and exposing my back to her and... move right across the room to the... door ... out ...of there.  I walk, carrying the box, to the car.  I set the box on the ground, unlock the car, open the hatch, put the box in next to the first box, close the hatch, get into the driver’s seat and... DRIVE AWAY... from the ...historical society’s Holiday Fair... fourteen years ago.  “Good-bye”.

            THAT ends the ‘two fold and ...deceptive... in magnitude’ (Part Twenty-Nine [A] opening).

            NOW:  What does all that (including Dan-in-bag) actually mean... to this DAY.