Tyler waited anxiously with his mother, Evelyn, for the
appraiser to come by their table and interview them for
the Traveling Antique Show. Cameras and lights were three
tables down focusing on a slight, frail women with a
lamp. He could hear the appraiser ask: "and what do you
think it's worth?" Tyler's mind raced with the prospects.
Their old stagecoach trunk was one of a kind. He was
already spending the money he knew his mother and he
would spend together on things they needed. They weren't
frivolous.
Tyler thought back to the trouble they had loading it in
the car. Benny, a neighbor, came over to help. "Try
getting in the back seat," he said. This required Tyler
to get into an awkward position, hunched over, one foot
on the floor and the other knee on the back seat. After
several attempts, tearing the headliner, and scratching
the door, they discovered it wouldn't fit. The only
alternative was to put it in the trunk of the car. That
wasn't much better, driving with the car's trunk lid
open, mother backed into a post at the auditorium.
"Probably six hundred dollars damage," she said
inspecting the bent fender, bumper and broken tail light.
All that was forgotten now, as they waited anxiously for
their turn in front of the cameras. The longer they
waited the more nervous they became. Tyler hoped he would
be able to function when his turn came to be on the show.
He was brought out of his trance when he heard the
appraiser say "Fourteen thousand dollars," to the lady
who owned the lamp. She almost collapsed when she heard
it. "Wow. I didn't know it was worth that much." She
fought desperately to hold back her enthusiasm.
Evelyn raised her voice so she could be heard over the
din. "How much longer do you think it will be," she
yelled to a lady standing behind the cameras holding a
clipboard.
The lady with the clipboard snarled and came over. "What
do you need?" She asked with no pretense of compassion.
"My hip. Do you have a chair?" Evelyn's hip had bothered
her off and on for several years. It was painful standing
this long. She had been limping all day.
The lady with the clipboard motioned to a boy who came
over. "Can you get her a chair?" She instructed. With
that she returned to her position behind the camera. The
boy brought the chair and Evelyn sat down.
"Are you OK?" Tyler was always an attentive son.
"I'm fine," Evelyn said. "I just wish they'd move a
little faster."
"It will be worth it mother. You can buy that new couch
or maybe a television set." Tyler was already plying a
well worn routine to get his way. Not that he wanted
anything for himself, mind you. He only wanted what was
best for himself and mother.
"Evelyn's spirits were picking up. "I thought I'd get a
new china set. I'm always so embarrassed to pull out
those old broken cracked dishes whenever company comes
over." There were only a couple of cracks and chips here
and there, hardly noticeable. Evelyn and Tyler ran a tidy
household, that's all. Nothing was ever left undone,
uncleaned or unmended.
Evelyn's mind drifted to the time she and her husband,
Harold, bought the trunk. She didn't want to buy it but
he insisted. They took a drive in the mountains upstate
to see the flowers and stopped at an antique store they
had driven by a dozen times before. The road side
attraction that caught their attention was and old wagon
with a giant stuffed alligator propped up in the seat
holding the reigns. There were a lot of other knick
knacks in front of the store; some old tables, saws,
pottery and the like. It was closer to being a junk store
than an antique store, but "that's where the deals were
to be found," Harold had said.
Harold talked the elderly proprietor down to a hundred
dollars. The proprietor said he couldn't help load it
because of an old war injury. Evelyn had to help and tore
her dress. On the trip home they had trouble driving
because the car's trunk lid was blocking the rear view
mirror. Every time Harold had to switch lanes or make a
right hand turn he told Evelyn to put her head out the
window and make sure it was clear. They fought the whole
way home.
At the table next to theirs a lady was showing a doll.
"It's unusual to see a doll from this maker in such good
condition. What can you tell me about it?" A different
appraiser was examining it; one who specialized in dolls.
The same film crew was there. The lady with the clipboard
kept glaring at Evelyn to make sure she wasn't going to
cause any more trouble.
The tables for the show were in a roped off area. Two
attendants kept people from wandering in and disturbing
the scene. Earlier, as Tyler and Evelyn wrestled their
trunk into the auditorium one of the show's people came
over and told them an appraiser had picked out their
trunk and wanted to take a closer look to see if it could
be used on the show. They knew it was destined to be on
TV when they phoned for the tickets. When they arrived
and saw the throngs of people who had brought their
antiques they became discouraged. The few tables and
chairs set out were filled long before Tyler and Evelyn
arrived. "The smart ones were the ones who brought
something they could carry," Evelyn said more than once.
She had to sit on the trunk, something she was not happy
doing.
The show's people came over an hour later. A young women
who looked like the director introduced everyone: "Hello,
I'm Marci. This is Harry Wentworth an expert on
nineteenth century furniture. He wants to take a look at
your piece."
Harry looked the trunk over without saying a word to
Evelyn or Tyler. As Evelyn got up to shake hands with
Marci, Harry opened the trunk lid, took a quick look
inside and slammed it shut. "Good," he said to Marci.
"Put it down as number four." Then he was off to inspect
another piece of furniture still without acknowledging
Tyler's or Evelyn's presence.
Marci took over. "Wonderful," she said. "Mr. Wentworth
wants to interview you about your, what is it?"
"Trunk," Tyler said.
"It's an old stage coach trunk," Evelyn cut in with
renewed optimism. "My husband and I got it at an antique
store about twenty five, no thirty years ago, upstate
by... I forget the name of the town."
"That won't matter." Marci quickly and politely cut her
off. "What we need to do is get you set up at one of our
tables." She pointed to the back of the auditorium and
the roped off area. "I've got a couple of boys who will
watch your trunk and we'd like to brief you for the
interview. It will be both of you for the interview,
won't it?"
"You mean to be on television?" Tyler asked.
"Yes," Marci said. "We've set up the show's trailers out
in the parking lot and we'll have to go over a briefing
so we can get you on camera."
All of a sudden Evelyn was skeptical. "Well, I don't
know," she said hesitantly.
"All of our pieces that go on air get a chance to be put
up for bid. They get the highest prices in the country
when they're shown on our program." This was a stock
comment Marci used whenever an owner was hesitant and she
was always able to add a personal note of interest.
"Where do we go?" Evelyn's eagerness had returned.
"Billy here will help you to the table and then show you
to the trailers. Some of the finest people in the
business will be able to meet with you and talk to you
about the show. And don't worry, Carl and Ted will watch
your piece." With that Marci was off to the next
inductee.
"Let me get a cart." Billy went to the roped off area and
retrieved a cart reserved for the show staff. While he
was away Tyler and Evelyn grabbed each other and gave a
little up and down hopping motion with a low shriek of
happiness: "yes," they both seemed to say.
Billy returned with the cart. "Can you help me get it on
the cart?" he asked Tyler. Tyler obliged and they took it
over to the table where they unloaded it. "Those two guys
over there will keep an eye on it for you," Billy
reassured them. "This way to the trailer."
Evelyn and Tyler followed Billy out a side door and then
over to what looked like a very expensive, top of the
line RV. He knocked on the door and a fairly big, rough
looking blond women, dressed in tight jeans and a loose
purple T-shirt peered out as the door opened. "I've got
the trunk people here," Billy said.
"Good," she said in a loud boisterous jovial voice and
then "Hello" to Tyler and Evelyn a little softer. "It's
so nice that you get to be on the show. Are you nervous?"
Evelyn and Tyler looked at one another not quite knowing
what to do.
"Come in," the women said. "Would you like some coffee,
Pepsi, or something to drink. We've got anything you need
in here."
Tyler helped his mother up the steps.
"Sit down." The blond women pulled out a chair next to a
small folding table covered with make-up supplies. "My
names Cheryl," she said. "How about an orange soda."
Evelyn sat down and Tyler sat down in a chair on the
other side of the table. He didn't see the big huge tall
guy duck out of the little RV hallway behind him who had
purple spiked hair, wore a black T-shirt with a lightning
streak on the front, nose, ear, eyebrow rings and tattoos
on every visible part of his arms. Evelyn turned flush.
Tyler saw her reaction and turned in the direction of her
gaze. "Sheese," he mumbled involuntarily. Instinctively
he looked for an escape route.
"This is Quinton," Cheryl said introducing the tall guy.
It didn't sink in right away and Tyler and Evelyn caught
themselves staring, mouths agape.
"Hello," Quinton said in a overly effeminate voice. "I
hear you people get to be on the show?" Their was an
excited lilt added to the end of his sentence.
"What color blush do you use?" Cheryl bent down in front
of Evelyn's face as she said it.
"Huh," was all Evelyn could say.
"Blush, dear. What color blush do you use?"
Evelyn looked from side to side a couple of times before
any of what was being said sunk in. "Blush?" She
questioned.
"Yes dear blush." You want to look your best for the
cameras, don't you. We're going to make you a star."
Cheryl giggled as she said it. "I just thought you'd want
to look your best. Did you bring any of your make-up?"
Cheryl put a mirror in front of Evelyn.
"I think I'm fine." Evelyn had finally come back to her
senses.
"That's good dear," Cheryl said tactfully taking another
approach. "You have the most marvelous hair for a women
of your age," she continued and then patted Evelyn's
collar to straighten it. "What are you forty seven?"
Evelyn was sixty one, but she fell right into the
compliment. "I'm fifty seven," she said.
"Oh, that's fantastic," Cheryl said. "What do you do to
keep your hair so beautiful? "You know, I'm a
professional. I've done Leslie Charleton's hair, Barbara
Stanzick, and the Ponce Girls once, all really famous
people and I've never seen anyone with hair as beautiful
as yours for a women of even forty. You know what would
look really good with that?" Cheryl waited just a second
for Eveyln's response and then proceeded. "A little
papayalux rouge." Cheryl handed Evelyn a little container
of the makeup and then slid a towel around her front to
protect her dress. "Let me try some on you," Cheryl went
on taking the container back.
In the mean time Quinton squatted down next to Tyler and
peered as close as he could to his face and then said:
"have you ever tried eye shadow?"
The rest of their stay in the RV was just as
uncomfortable for Tyler but Evelyn was starting to enjoy
it. After about twenty minutes Billy returned with
another women and Cheryl and Quinton wrapped up their
session with Tyler and Evelyn unceremoniously rushing
them out the trailer with a quick "good luck."
Billy led them back to their table . "If you want to wait
here they'll be by to interview you in a few minutes," he
said and then left. That was two hours ago.
Tyler stared at the trunk and remembered the time he
snuck into the attic room and looked in it without his
father's permission. His father spent a lot of time in
his attic room and Tyler wasn't supposed to go up there
without asking first. He was fourteen. His father was at
work. Father had kept some risque' books in the trunk and
Tyler couldn't resist the temptation to take a peek. He
was pretty sure he had put everything back the way he
found it, but he thought his father knew somehow. He
could feel his father glaring at him all through supper.
His attention was brought back to the auditorium when he
saw out of the corner of his eye, the lady next to them,
with the doll, give a big broad smile when the appraiser
said, "somewhere between eight and ten thousand dollars."
She could barely hold her jubilance. "I would never have
guessed," she said desperately trying to appear modest
and unaffected.
Just then Harry, the appraiser who had selected their
trunk came by and stood between Evelyn and Tyler. "This
is a marvelous piece," he said in a hushed voice so he
wouldn't bother the filming at the next table. Harry was
all smiles now. "I bet you're feeling good about this."
He stroked the side of the trunk as he said it. "Let's
move around to the front of the table. Which one of you
is showing the piece?" He looked back and forth at both
of them.
"We both are," Tyler said. "It's mothers but we're
together."
The lights went off at the table next to them and they
could see the women jump up with glee and shout a silent
"yes," with a hand pull in the air, as she was free to
express her exultation over the knew found treasure.
Harry was able to raise his voice a little and asked
Evelyn, "How'd you acquire the piece."
"We bought it at an antique store up state," she recited
to the appraiser.
"Do you remember how much you paid for it?" he asked with
sincerity.
"Not exactly," Evelyn said. "I think it was a hundred
dollars. Money we didn't want to spend at the time," she
went on.
"We have to keep the answers short for the cameras,"
Harry said. "Just say a hundred dollars when I ask you
later and everything will be just fine?"
"OK." Evelyn was nervous.
"And how about you?" Harry turned to Tyler. "Were you
with your mother when she bought it?"
"Well no," Tyler said.
"How about if you stand over here and I'll talk to your
mother about it, OK?" Harry gently pushed Tyler on the
shoulder guiding him to the side, out of camera range.
"Well Mrs. Martins. You have a fine piece of furniture
here. I think you can be very proud of it. What do you
say we get started?" With that the lights came on and
someone held up a clapper board to get the cameras
started.
"Hello. Mrs. Evelyn Martins. Is that Right?" Harry was
even warmer and friendlier than before.
"Yes." Evelyn was quite nervous in front of the cameras.
I understand you discovered this wonderful piece in a
small antique store up state? Do you care to tell us how
you came to find it?"
"Well, my husband and I were on a short trip to the
mountains and we decided to stop at an antique store we
passed many times before."
"That's always a thrill to find a collectable in one of
those out of the way places off the beaten path. Can you
tell us anything about the trunk?"
"Well, uh, it's a stage coach trunk. It says Topeka,
Kansas on the side. I think it was used on a stage
coach." Evelyn was more nervous than before.
"What you have here, Mrs. Martins, is a fine replica of
an early eighteen hundreds trunk used on the first stage
coach lines. It was made by the Bernjouleous Wood Works
in the late twenties to meet a brief market for replicas
of that time period. You can see their name stamped on
the inside." Harry opened the lid delicately. "White oak
and hand carved joints. They even put in some scratches
just like you might have seen on an original trunk used
on an early to mid eighteen hundreds stage coach line."
Tyler's and Evelyn's hopes started to fade.
"But there was a resurgence in their popularity and
they're quite valuable," Harry went on.
Their spirits lifted again.
"What do you think it's worth?" He asked Evelyn.
"I don't know." Evelyn was even more unsure of herself
than before.
"Don't even venture a guess," Harry said. "I'd say one in
this good of condition is worth a hundred and fifty to
two hundred dollars. How much did you pay for it?"
Evelyn struggled to hide her disappointment. "We, we,
we," she was more nervous than ever and started to
stutter. She was at her wits end. It had been a long day,
she'd wrecked the car, her hip hurt and she was tired.
She fought desperately to hold on to her remaining
dignity.
There was only one way out, a complete reversal. She
could feel the rage build up insider her. She crooked a
lip to one side, squinted her eyes and then took aim at
the appraiser: "We found it," she blurted. "My husband
and I were upstate and there it was behind some junk
store and the guy said he wanted to get rid of it, so we
took it. Does that make you happy?" Evelyn was just
getting started. "We didn't pay one thin dime for it.
What is it with you people?" The rampage was in full
swing. "You bring us down here and treat us like we were
nothing and what do we get. Nothing. Not a thing. A
hundred and fifty bucks. Is that all. Look at her." She
honed in on the lady with the doll hugging her friend
with glee. "She gets eight thousand dollars. And for
what? A doll. A stupid crummy doll." She walks over to
the doll and grabs for it but the lady is quicker. The
lady snatches it out of the way and retreats to a huddle
in the corner. Then Evelyn walked up to the camera,
pointing. "And you people. You wouldn't believe what they
make you do here. They bring us down here and we're
supposed to feel lucky. Then they drag us out back, put
us in a dump truck with some big fairy. What do you want
me to think? A hundred and fifty bucks." She started to
shake her head. "For what?"
Tyler had never seen his mother like this. He walked over
and put an arm around her. He had come down here trying
to protect her from all the maddening crowd, excitement,
and activity, and here she was about to let loose on
anyone who came within range. She didn't need protecting.
Nobody was fooling Evelyn anymore today.
Evelyn shrugged off Tyler's arm. "You!" She barked at
Billy. "Get me a cart, now! I want that thing in my car
in five minutes or I'm going to call the better business
bureau, the S P C A, the C P A or whatever P and A it
takes to get your butt in gear. Now!" Billy showed real
signs of fear and ran over and grabbed a cart. He wheeled
it up to the table and single handedly put the trunk on
the cart.
"You! Captain Midnight." Her attention was now turned to
the lady with the clip board. "I want a little more
respect. If someone asks you for something, and they've
come down here to your stupid show, I think the least you
can do is show a little respect. You ever turn your nose
up and walk away on me again, I'm, I'm going to make you
wish you were a candy striper."
The lady with the clipboard didn't budge and was still
sneering. Evelyn took a hop towards her. "I think I'll
shove you in this trunk right now. That'd be worth more
than a hundred and fifty dollars." The clipboard lady
finally broke. She moved to cower behind one of the
cameramen. "You're not so tough," Evelyn said as she
walked away.
Evelyn was starting to reach the end of her ranting.
"Tyler," she commanded, "come on. We're leaving." With
that she marched out of the auditorium, perfect cadence,
with Tyler and Billy following. Her limp was nowhere in
sight.
