Thursday, 5 January 2017

The Auction

5th Jan Prompt: Grab-bag of Props.
A 1952 Chevrolet, a fast food diner, and the view of the Earth as seen from the moon. Use all or any of the props for your 500 word story.

Another auction? Really? How much stuff do you need?” I asked my wife. 

It's not about needing Tom, it's about seeing what bargains there are and IF there is something I want, getting it cheaply.”

Can't you go with one of your friends? I was hoping to play golf.” It was worth a try. 

The weather forecast says it will rain this weekend, so I wouldn't go making any plans… “ ... “other than coming with me, that is!” she laughed.  

I knew it would not be as bad as I expected. In fact, there have been occasions that I have actually enjoyed them. I would never confess to that, or the next thing you know I would be dragged to the ballet and opera, and God knows what else.

We walked into the auction arena with an hour to browse around at the items being auctioned. I occasionally made the odd whinging noise, which had become part of the procedure. “Porcelain, ceramics, glassware… all such girly stuff” I muttered under my breath. 

Well, go and find boy stuff then!” I had forgotten she had something akin to bionic hearing, which is probably great when you are a mom, but not so good for muttering men.

I ambled off to the shed outside to find “boy stuff". Lawnmowers, motorbikes, gardening equipment, you name it, it was there. 

Honestly, sometimes I think this is more like a junk 2nd hand shop than an auction,” I said to a chap close by. He nodded and asked, “I take it you've not been out back yet?

Not yet,” I replied. He just smiled and walked on.

But now my curiosity was piqued. What was in the back? I turned the corner and was about to find out. Two lines of cars were neatly parked in the back yard – not all in the best of nick, but an impressive lot of vintage cars: a 1950 Buick Roadmaster, a 1951 Cadillac, a 1952 Oldsmobile Super 88… My eyes scanned the line until they fell on the glistening chrome grill of a truck. It beckoned me and I for some reason I felt drawn to it. I poked my head into the rolled down window and looked around the cab. The grill-like dash, with the word CHEVROLET spelled out along the rim, the simple chrome surrounded instruments and steering wheel. There was a familiarity about the car, as though I knew it. I walked around it, taking in the oversized rear wheel guards and distinct tailgate.

Before I knew it, I found myself climbing into the back of the pickup. I must have sat there for some time as my brain searched for the file to this memory. If I closed my eyes, I could picture it parked outside a fast-food diner, and out of the diner came my grandfather holding two giant ice-cream cones… My Grandpa had a 1952 Chevy! 

The memories came flooding back. I loved my Grandpa, he was always tinkering in the garage on his Chev and I would sit on the back, chatting away to him about my bug collection or what we could use to make a tree house.

I knew I had to have this truck. I wanted to restore it, and one day, when we have kids, I want to make memories with them, like I had with my Grandpa.

I suppose I should go and find my wife and break the news that it will be me who does the purchasing at this auction.

591 words

No comments:

Post a Comment