So, here I am on my way to a yard sale on a windy day in May. A teenage girl on a bike decides she just doesn't have to energy to go around me. I hear a faint 'I'm sorry', like it was whispered on the wind. I would smile, but I wince.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I overreact by screaming like a girl.
"You alright?" My sister asks, mockingly.
"God-damn-it! Since when is it ok to let kids ride bikes over people?" I'm not angry, just annoyed, at the blatant disregard of my presence on the sidewalk.
"You big girl, it's your fault that you stopped her with you shoulder." Reminders are nice of whose fault it wasn't.
"Okay, sorry my cat like reflexes aren't up to par this morning." I tell her as I make a "Bruce Lee" pose.
"Just don't try to embarrass yourself any more, ok?" Sarcasm when I was hoping for sympathy, for my poorly done pose, not the pain I am still feeling.
"Let's get what you wanted to get and jet." I want to sound stern, but I don't. We continue walking.
"Jet? Do people really say that anymore?" More jokes from her, she isn't the only one that could give it as well as she gets.
"I do, that's all that matters." I say as we walk up the sidewalk farther away from her car.
"Doris has the biggest and the best yard sale every year. I just don't want you getting us kicked off her property." She tells me with a hint of seriousness.
"That will never happen and we both know it, no matter how bad I act or screw up." I am confident, as we make our way up the block towards the gathering of people looking over another person's things that they don't want and figured that if someone else wants it so bad they can pay one dollar for it. The house we walk up to is old, huge and scary. My sister and I used to live three blocks from this house where Doris Lieberman still lives. She was old when we were kids and she is still old. When I was growing up I used to hear the neighborhood kids saying Mrs. Lieberman was a witch, a vampire, a alien, or a ghost. I used to believe she was all of these. Then my grandmother, Kathy moved in with us when our grandfather died when I was ten and my sister was seven. My grandmother became Doris's best friend and eventually moved in with her. They were a pair. Visits to grandma became adventures in time. We grew up hearing about their husbands and how good looking my sister and I were becoming. The day my grandmother died was sad for not for just our family, but Doris as well. We have always considered Doris a member of our family ever since.
My sister, Lucy is twenty five now and she is a loan officer at the local bank here in Greenstone, Georgia. It's one of those not too big, not to small towns. We are what the smaller towns refer to as being one step from being as big as the capital. Our father divorced our mother five years ago and lives with his new wife in Florida. Our mother still lives in this town, she has remained single, but she has told us she has a few men in waiting. My sister said they are internet fuck buddies. Something I wished I didn't have to hear or picture. I really thought things would have been different with my father should be the one trolling the internet for pussy and my mother should be married again. It's strange how things work out. Then there's me, Alan Scott, I am twenty eight, about six foot tall, brown hair, blue sort of hazel eyes, I keep in shape, just not a good shape. I am a writer and have written that series about superheroes from yesteryear coping with today's society. Three books that were all, New York Times best sellers. I write under the pen name of Lewis Lane, it's my little joke. I never thought my book would take off like it has. People have referred to it as a "Harry Potter with super powers, adventure through time, and a fun tale." It pays my bills and lets me work my own schedule. I have also been investing wisely, just in case. I have never made a pubic appearance or had my picture put on the back of my books. Not because I like my privacy, but because I to screw with people. No, seriously, I like my privacy.
The house we approach is one of those three story numbers that looks like that one house from the movie 'Psycho' and I think it's been around for a hundred years. There's a iron gate that opens up to the brick walk leading to the front porch. Right now, it looks like one of those yards you see that you think is a yard sale and it's not. You realize that there is so much lawn decoration, you would think there should be a limit to how many wooden silhouettes of the guy leaning against something , the woman bending over to garden, or pink flamingos you could display. In this case, it really is a yard sale. As my sister and I make our way through the gathering crowd, and we are soon recognized.
"Oh my, there you are." As Doris makes her way slowly towards us as we are making our way to her.
"Lady, you know why I am here, just show me the goods." I say as I lean in to give her a heartfelt hug and peck on the cheek.
"Honey, my goods haven't been shown to anyone in years, but if you really want to see, come back later tonight." She laughs as she reluctantly lets go of me, to give my sister a hug.
"I have to apologize for Alan, he hasn't had a date in about three months ago, since he broke up with his girlfriend, so he's a little desperate." As my sister is hugging Doris.
"It's ok, I haven't flirted since last time I was asked to show my goods. Trust me it's been more than few years." She smiles and lets go of my sister to take my arm. She guides me up the old brick walk, with my sister following. Now I start to feel the other reason my sister talking me into coming here. Doris is in very good shape for being some where in her sixties, I think she's in her sixties, I really can't tell. She's doesn't seem to have aged a day since that day I met her. Standing at five foot five with light brown hair, golden brown eyes, and a dimpled smile. She had to be a heart-breaker in her early years. She has a voice that makes her sound 30 years younger.
"Alan I was wondering if you and your sister would help me run things here? I will give you, your pick of whatever you want." She tells us, with a smile.
"I would really love to help, but I have plans at three." I quickly and quietly say with my head hanging down. I don't have plans at three, it's ten thirty now.
"My grand kids, you remember Sam and Sarah? Well, they were supposed to help me today, but their flight was canceled due to bad weather. It would help me out a lot. Please, don't make a old woman beg." She sounds pleading, still smiling.
"Oh come on big brother. There's a damsel in distress and you aren't going to help?What happened to the heroic nature of yours?" She says smiling me and jabbing me in the ribs.
"My heroic nature died the day I realized that Santa isn't real." I laugh.
"Saying things like that puts you on the naughty list, you know." Doris tells me smiling.
Lucy and Doris stare at me, waiting. It's like they know I don't have plans. I have a feeling my loving sister volunteered me to help. I was never asked, it would have been nice to be asked. Lucy had time to ask. When she picked me up from the airport on Thursday, she had time to ask. That same night I got in, I stayed the night at her house, she had time to ask. Last night when we went to the bar with my old friends from the area to meet with hers, she had time to ask. I better give them the answer they want to hear.
"Ok, I'm in, I will just call my people and let them know I can't make it today." I say with a smile, trying to win back some of that lost heroism.
"Good, we will have a great time I promise, there are lots of single women that come to these things, plus I have a cellar full of wine." She smiles at me, as pulls me toward what looks like her table with three chairs and one of those huge patio umbrellas. This looks like where the haggling is to be done.
"Really? Think you pop one of them bottles open?" My sister ask, nonchalantly. She's trying not to sound interested in the wine, but she really is.
"There's a few bottles and glasses under the table." Doris points.
"Mind if I wander around?" I ask as Lucy and Doris sit down and pull out the glasses. They look like they are ready to do business or drink themselves blind. Either way, they are ready.
"Sure, darling, pick something good before it's gone." Doris pulls the cork from the bottle and pours three glasses. Yes, they are starting, very early.
Waving off the wine for later, I walk around. It's a trip down memory lane. All the stuff that used to belong to Doris's first husband is here. The war stuff that used to hang on the walls of her house.
"Pick me."
I hear the most wondrous, womanly voice whisper on the wind that tickles at my ears, from the east. I turn as fast as I can to see where that beautiful voice came from, just to see no one there. I decide to walk towards the direction I think I heard the voice come from. I stand next to a table with nick-knacks and various types of swords. I remember those swords hanging from various walls through out the house. Samurai swords, broadswords, knives, and shields. Doris's second husband James, was a collector of weapons and such. I always wanted to play with them when I was a kid. I think about grabbing a few of them now, but I see something I have never seen before. A old train lantern. It's dusty, rusty, and green. I laugh to myself about a comic book character I used to read about. I pick it up without thinking, then I turn it around, upside down, and back to upright. It's got nicks and dings. It looks well used. I remember my father telling about railroad and trains. His geek obsession was trains. Go figure. I walk towards the table where my sister and Doris are getting drunk. I totally forget that I have the train lantern by the handle, in my hand.
"I see you found something, stud." Doris says, laughingly.
"Yeah, I guess. It sort of called out to me. I never saw this sitting anywhere in your house, where you been hiding it?" I am still confused about why I haven't let it go. I see my sister haggling with a woman about the price of some candle holders. I thought I hear Lucy say fifteen. I could be wrong.
"I had it in the basement locked in that old safe. I thought it was time to get rid of the damn thing." As, Doris rolls her eyes and hands me my glass. I take my drink from it as I set the lantern on the table. The rest of the day isn't as eventful. The wind starts to become still and soon there's not a cloud in the sky, but it's still cool. Sure we were buzzing by the end of the day, but Doris made a crap ton of money. Lucy and I helped pick up the yard and moved everything into the garage. Doris offered me a spare room for the night, which was cool, and I took her up on it. My sister is taking home a few of Doris's old throw rugs, very nice, and heavy, too. I should know I helped my sister load them into her car.
Doris is on the phone by eight calling up a few friends and family for a small get together. I saw a few cousins I haven't seen since I left for New York. Yeah, that's where I moved too, with nothing, but a dream, a final draft of my first novel, and over twenty thousand dollars that Doris gave me. I paid her back when I finally got published. Yeah, I didn't ask where she got it and she also told me not to ask. I assumed it was her first husband, Harold's pension from the army. He was a major when he was done serving his tour, then he joined the C.I.A. I assume they had a nice little nest egg. As the night wears on, Lucy and a few of her friends and our cousins decide hit the local bar, by eleven. As everyone left, Doris offers up the rest of the house for anyone who shouldn't be driving and makes everyone promise to stay the night. If they do and she tells them she will cook up breakfast in the morning for everyone. Everyone agrees, since Doris is an awesome cook. They all walk to that bar, since it's only four blocks away. I am not much for the bar scene two nights in a row. Trust me, they tried their damnest to get me to go. I said next time I will go and the first round would be on me. I stay so Doris and I catch up with each other.
