"SOLD!"

“Good Lord!” my husband exclaimed as he loaded the last item into the back of the truck.  “What were you?  Possessed back there?  What are we going to do with all of this junk?”

I scratched my head and opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t find words.  “It’s your fault!” I finally blurted out.

His jaw dropped as he stared in silent disbelief.  “How is any of this my fault?  YOU did most of the bidding.

“I told you last night that going fishing at midnight on a marshy lake could only lead to trouble.  The mosquitoes had a feast and you caught exactly what, again?” 

“A sock, a canoe paddle, and a 4” walleye.”

We stared at each other in a moment of defiant silence, each of us scratching.

“Let’s go home,” I said defeatedly.  All I could think of was a hot shower and a fresh bottle of calamine.

As we drove down the dusty country road that had brought us to the auction that morning I recounted my purchases.  I had carefully previewed the listed items I was interested in.  There was a wooden crate stacked full of antique metal tins for various products.  I knew that some of them could be valuable, while others would just look nice added to the collection of tins that filled the space up above my kitchen cabinets.  Then there was a beautiful set of 1950’s silverware with a detailed daffodil at the end of each handle.  The original green velvet-lined flamed maple silver case held all twelve 5-piece place settings!  A rare find!  And to make the deal even sweeter, there were two sets of serving pieces, a covered butter dish with glass liner, a cream and sugar set, and the matching gravy bowl and ladle with the very unique square drip plate to set it on.  I would have been pleased as punch to bid on those two lots alone but the itching mosquito bites foiled my plans.  Although I ended up bringing home both of the items I desired, I had bid far more on them than I had planned.  Besides that, I had a truckload of additional items!

The auctioneer started with a group of oil paintings that looked like paint-by-numbers.  As the bidding approached $100.00, I was gripped by an insatiable urge to scratch and before I knew it, my elbow was up in the air.  Although it was satisfying to finally rid myself of that annoying prickling tickle, my husband’s elbow in my ribs and the sound of the auctioneer’s gavel hitting the podium brought my thoughts back to reality.  “SOLD!” he announced.

I couldn’t believe it!  $115.00 for a bunch of, what seemed to me to be old no-talent paint-by-numbers.  I couldn’t believe others had actually wanted them!  Maybe they knew something I didn’t.  The next item up for bids was a rickety old rocking chair very much in need of repairs.  As bad as the itch was, I somehow managed to sit still during the bidding for this item.  My heavily heaved sigh of relief was in unison with my husband’s and the next item was wheeled out:  a huge black lacquered trunk filled with old books, magazines, and news clippings.  Three bidders battled it out and just as the gavel was about to slam down at $375.00 I felt a trickle of sweat running down between my shoulder blades, making those nasty bug bites itch again.  I must have squirmed just enough to catch the attention of the auctioneer and he upped the bid to $400.  “Someone please bid,” I prayed silently, but the others had lost interest.  My husband glared at me and shook his head as the gavel fell.

When the dust cleared I found myself to be the proud new owner of a box full of beaten up old dolls, a trunk filled with fabric remnants and half-finished quilts, a metal pail containing antiquated kitchen tools that looked more like implements of torture, a huge metal ring holding fifty or more brass keys, a stack of antique books, an envelope of old postage stamps, a dusty stringless violin with a battered case, and the two items I had wanted:  the daffodil silverware and the crate full of old tins.

“Oh well,” I thought as we bumped along the dusty road.  “I got the items I wanted and I have enough cash left in my purse to get something to eat on the way home.”

“Are you hungry?” I asked my frowning husband.  He nodded and scratched his head.  I guess he decided it best not to say anything else since the tractor we were pulling back to the city was purchased as a result of HIS accidental bidding!

“I guess there’s always eBay,” he said finally as we pulled onto the smooth highway. 

We drove slowly towards home, pulling to the shoulder every few miles to let faster traffic pass.  As we were waiting for traffic to pass by, an older gentleman in a beaten up blue pick up passed slowly and pulled over ahead of us.  “Where are you taking that tractor?” he asked in his soft country accent.

“Well, home, I guess,” my husband mused.  “We purchased it an auction a ways back…accidentally.”

The older gentleman smiled and looked back at the tractor.  “She’s a beaut!” he exclaimed running a hand lovingly over the rusted fender.  “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”

Seizing the opportunity to unload the unwanted machine my husband asked, “What do you think she’s worth?”

The older man scratched his head and kicked at a pebble.  “I don’t rightly know what she’s worth, but I have $1500.00 at the house I’d give for it.”  His voice trailed off as if he knew his offer was too small to be considered.

“SOLD!” my husband mimicked the auctioneer and pounded his fist against his open palm.  Back in the truck he mused, “I guess we didn’t do so badly after all!”

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