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"Easy Money at the Traveling Antique Show"
by

Ken Bushnell

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 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 a 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.

Posted January 26, 2000
Copyright 1999 by Ken Bushnell - [email protected]