Gerald, an art collector gets a lesson in Value
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Old Town Market: Draft Gerald turned off Orleans Avenue as he headed into the old neighborhood. He glanced down to adjust his seat. The heat in the power tilt leather seats was on high and he was now beyond warm, he was down right hot. He looked up and caught a blur of dark hair dart toward his bumper. He slammed on the brakes as his heart jumped into his throat and panic made him grip the steering wheel as if he were Superman bending a steel bar. His SUV came to a screeching halt as his latte sloshed its contents over the dash and onto the floor. Thankful he had not heard or felt a thump, he put down the power window and peered out. A large black and gray tomcat strolled from under his bumper. He watched the cat as it looked up at him and meowed. “Get out of the way you worthless animal,” he yelled. The cat arched its back and hissed at him. He laid on his horn and drove away, nearly hitting the cat again. Gerald grabbed some napkins from the glove box and blotted up as much of the spill as he could while driving. He took a few deep breaths to slow his still pounding heart. He checked to see that his tweed blazer was still hanging on the back of the seat and turned up the radio. Saturday mornings were his favorite on WRIC, the local public radio station; they always played a classical selection. The Mozart helped put the near collision out of his mind. Gerald grumbled to himself about his Grandmother living all the way on the other side of town. As he made the last turn he thought to himself ---She should have moved a long time ago,--- It was an older neighborhood with mostly blue-collar residents. The houses and landscaping were all very neat but seemed old and dingy to him. He passed by a house that stood out a little from its neighbors. “Not even a new coat of paint and a raised flower bed could make me want to move in here,” he thought. He turned into his Grandmother’s drive way and parked. The sight of the familiar home took the edge off of his irritation. Gerald grabbed his blazer, shut the door and remotely turned on his alarm. It was a warm morning for early spring so he draped his jacket over his arm. He took a deep breath of the springtime air as he walked up the aging but solid brick steps. His grandmother had the glass storm door closed but the inside door open. He could see the back of her silver hair moving back and forth. He rang the bell and heard a muffled “Come in, Dear” Opening the unlocked storm door, Gerald stepped into his Grandmother’s house. She turned away from watering her plants and gently smiled at her Grandson. “Hello Grandmother” Gerald said as he walked toward her, smiling. “I told you its Grandma or Granny or just Gram. We can do away with the formality Gerry” he winced at his nickname “ And no, I am not calling you Gerald. It may be your name but I changed your diapers, you will always be my little Gerry” She kissed him on his cheek as they embraced. “I just need a minute or two dear and I’ll be ready to go.” Gerald nodded. As she went to gather her things, he walked around the old kitchen. It was still the same color and had the same appliances and fixtures that he remembered from his childhood. He noticed three pet food dishes on the floor. He began to call “Grandmoth… “ He stopped short “Grandma, did you get a new cat?” She was out of earshot. Just then a gray and black tomcat came in through the cat door. He recognized it immediately as the one he almost hit. The cat stopped, looked at Gerald, and hissed. Gerald backed away. Gerald’s grandmother walked in. “I see you’ve meet Mr. Fluffy”. “Not for the first time”. She gave him a questioning look. “It almost ran under my wheels out on the front street” He explained, not mentioning the rest of their encounter. “You almost hit Mr. Fluffy?” “It’s not like I did it on purpose.” “Gerry you have to be careful.” “Now wait Grandma. I nearly dropped a transmission trying to stop and who knows how much damage I did to my tires.” Mr. Fluffy hissed at him again. “See he’s angry with you” She said emphatically. “Grandma, people get angry not animals”. “My cats may not be people but they get angry and sad and you can tell when they’re happy”. She said as she picked up Mr. Fluffy and quieted him. “It just doesn’t work that way Grandma. Human’s have emotions animals don’t, It’s what separates us from them” he paused “that and art”. She frowned at him “I knew I’d hear something like that.” Gerald shrugged. “Listen young man just because you don’t see the value of my pets, that does not make them worthless. I know it’s your job to buy and sell pieces of art for a profit. Don’t let that confuse you. The price of a thing is not its value.” Gerald wanted to reply, but she fixed him with that peculiar look she always gave him. “Oh Gerry”, she sighed and smiled at him. Gerald smiled back and took her hand. “Dear, I believe that there are still a few lessons that life has to teach you,” She said. “If you say so.” Gerald said not wanting to disagree with her any more. “Are we ready?” he asked. “Yes, let’s go”, his Grandmother answered as they were leaving. “Dear, I need to go to the Old Town Market down on Boston Street to pick up some groceries.” “Ok, but are you sure you don’t want to go to “Super Shopper” It’s almost as close and the prices are good.” He asked as he guided her towards his gleaming SUV. “I always shop at the market. I’ve got friends down there I’d like to see” She explained. “Ok, but aren’t you afraid that you’ll get sick from food the in that place? ”, he asked as he helped her into the vehicle. “My goodness, no, I’ve been going down there since before your mother was born. Those vendors know me and I know them. They take care of me ‘cause I’m a loyal customer.” She said. “I know, but wouldn’t you feel safer if you went to a regular grocery store?” he asked. He went around the other side and got in. As he started the vehicle, His grandmother answered, “Gerry honey, your shiny stores and big cars aren’t the answers to everything. I enjoy doing things the old fashion way. They’re just as good and sometimes better.” “Ok” Gerald said as he smiled and thought he’d probably get set in his ways when he got older too. He backed out of the driveway onto the street and headed to the Market. After a short drive they arrived at the Old Town Market. Gerald helped his Grandmother out of the SUV. “It’s hardly changed,” he thought to himself as they headed to the outdoor vendors. In his dress shoes he nearly slipped several times on the same rough cobblestones his grandmother handled effortlessly. After thirty-five minutes of shopping she said “Just a few more things, and I’d like to stop and visit with Mr. Johnson at the flower stand. Can you run these bags back to the car?” she asked and handed him the bags. Gerald nodded. “Why don’t I meet you inside? Maybe we could get a cup of lemon aid.” “Sounds good” Gerald replied as his grandmother headed off in the direction of the flower stand. Gerald put his grandmother’s groceries in his SUV and headed toward the aging blue and white building. He went though the creaky double doors to the inside vendors. There were four short rows of stalls with no more then twenty vendors. He walked past all sorts of merchandise. There was a booth selling cell phone accessories still in the box. Gerald wondered about the origins of the merchandise. He saw a double stall selling both new and used tools and one selling old books. He stepped into one stall that looked more like a garage sale then anything. There were dishes stacked in a box and about 3 dozen old golf clubs jammed in a beaten old golf bag. There were shelves filled with knick-knacks. Gerald saw an old computer on display and next to it a large box of accessories and software. Behind the box a wooden picture frame caught his eye. He picked it up for closer inspection. Gerald was almost startled by the painting. It was an Abstract Expressionism oil painting that reminded him of the works of Pollock. The swirling, interwoven lines and use of color seemed to embody rage and sadness at the same time. He marveled at the artist’s ability to express his emotions and thoughts in the medium. He studied it closely as he checked for brush strokes or a signature. It was definitely an original but didn’t seem to be signed except for a gray lightening bolt in the bottom left corner. He believed that who ever had created this piece was very skilled. He checked for a price, but it was unmarked. Thinking quickly Gerald looked up and saw a man standing in the corner. “Nice frame, how much do you want for it” The man shrugged and said “dono, twenty bucks too much?” Gerald stared at him for a second. Gerald thought to himself that similar pieces could range from several hundred to several thousand dollars. The profiteer in him couldn’t help it, Gerald turned his back to the man and pulled out his wallet, went past several one hundreds, fifties and twenties, pulled out two fives and three ones. Gerald put his wallet away and turned back to the man. “I’ve got thirteen will you take it?” The man hesitated. Gerald fished around in his front pocket like he was looking for change. The man spoke up “Ok, I’ll take thirteen” Gerald handed over the money and left quickly, but not too quickly. Gerald excitedly hurried to the front of the building. Just as he reached the front doors his grandmother walked in. “Ready for the lemon aid?” She asked, holding a bouquet of yellow flowers. “Oh, right ok.” Gerald answered. “What have you got there, sweetie?” She asked as they headed for the concession “It’s a painting, the frame is worth what I paid for the whole thing.” She looked at him. “Gerry did you cheat that man?” she asked flatly. “Well, it’s a good painting but it’s not really signed. It’s hard to tell what its worth.” He answered, shading the truth. “There you go again. Counting something’s monetary worth when the question is really about its value,” Gerald ordered two lemonades and had to break a twenty-dollar bill to pay for them. “Grandma, I got a good deal on it. I talked the man down a little from his asking price that’s all. You didn’t want me to pay too much for it, did you?” “Honey, getting a deal is one thing but cheating people is another.” She hesitated. “Only you know if you took advantage of the situation” She finished. All Gerald could do was nod. On their way out to the parking lot, Gerald noticed the bouquet of flowers his grandmother was carrying. “Are those daisies Grandma?” Gerald asked. “Sure are”, she said wistfully,” I love daisies. I have ever since your grandfather gave me my first bouquet.” She paused. “It was all daisies bright, fresh and fragrant. I didn’t find out until later that he had plucked them out of old Mrs. Kraft’s back garden. I didn’t care where they had come from they were my first flowers from a boy and they were beautiful. Grandpa did though; Mr. Kraft must’ve seen him and talked to Grandpa’s father. As punishment he did all the Kraft’s lawn work for the rest of the summer. Mrs. Kraft must have felt bad for him though cause, every once in a while she’d cut a bouquet and give it to him so he could give it to me. I do love daisies.” She trailed off. Gerald didn’t know what to say. He smiled at her and she smiled back. He helped her into the SUV and they drove home. They arrived back at her house and Gerald helped her inside. Mr. Fluffy was there waiting for her and started purring the minute she walked in. Gerald kept his distance from the cat. “Honey, can you reach that vase on top of the cabinets for me? I want to put these flowers in some water. “ He handed her the vase. She went to the sink to fill the vase with water and he unwrapped the flowers. “They’re a little wilted, Grandma they’ll be dead in a couple of days. I hope you didn’t pay to much for them,” She returned with the vase half full of water and a pair of shears. “As a matter of fact I paid full price. They’ll be fine” She trimmed the ends of the flowers at a diagonal and put them in the water. “I added a teaspoon of sugar to the water. They’ll perk right up, promise” Gerald shrugged. “Grandma I’d love to stay for a while but I’ve got to get going” “I know dear, you’ve been a big help. Thank you”. She hugged him. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you soon.” He hurried out of the house closing the door behind him. “Hi grandmother” Gerald said into the phone. “Gerry, I told you …” She said with a scolding tone. “Sorry, ‘Grandma’.” He interrupted. “Did you get the flowers I sent”? “I sure did, Thank you honey, they are beautiful, you are such a nice boy. Now I have two big bouquets of Daisies on my dinning room table.” Gerald smiled to himself half knowing that might be the case. “ I can’t talk too long. I’m having a dinner party. I just wanted to say hi and make sure you got the flowers.” “Ok dear, well have fun and I’ll see you soon.” “See you soon Grandma” Gerald hung up the phone. The caterer approached Gerald. “Mr. Paige, would you like to sample the canapés?” “Not necessary, I was at the Johnson party last week. Your food is delicious”, “Very well” he said as he walked toward the den. Gerald followed him. “Right there” Gerald said as he pointed to the buffet just below the painting. The caterer sat the try where Gerald had pointed to and left. Gerald adjusted his new painting for the fifth time that afternoon. This would be the first time he had displayed the piece. He chuckled to himself as he thought of the thirteen dollars he had spent on it. He spent more then ten times that amount for it’s new frame and several hundred more on the new lighting that highlighted it perfectly. He shook his head as he studied it again and wondered who might have painted it. All of his research came up with nothing. It was obvious some one of great skill that knew how to create an emotional response in the viewer had painted it “Maybe I’ve discover the single work of some unknown genius,” he thought to himself. Gerald checked his watch and was startled by the time. “My guests will be here in no time,” he thought to himself. He went to check on the caterers. They were packing up the last of their equipment. “Mr. Paige”, the supervisor asked, “are you sure you don’t want any wait staff for the evening” “No, no, no” Gerald shook his head, ” Thank you. No.” “Very, well. We’re finished then. Have a good evening.” The last of the help walked out of the apartment. Gerald did one last walk though of his apartment. Straightening as he went, he found himself humming with excitement. He couldn’t wait to show off his new painting. He adjusted it once again, just then the doorbell rang. Carol and her boyfriend arrived first. Carol introduced Gerald to Rob. “Rob this is Gerald, Gerald, Rob.” “Nice to meet you” Rob said, shaking Gerald’s hand as they stepped inside. “Oh this if for you” Carol said as she presented a bottle of wine. “Thank you. That’s very nice” Gerald said. Just as he was about to close the door, Bernice and Jennifer showed up. “Hi Gerald” they said in unison and laughed. “Hello ladies “ Gerald welcomed them and took their jackets. Just as Gerald finished closing the closet the doorbell rang again. Stacey and her bother Ben had arrived. Gerald greeted them and announced, every one had arrived, his other guest had called and canceled. “First hors’de’vours and a surprise. Most of you know me from my dealings in the collectable art field, so you may be interested to see my newest discovery” he led them all into the den where the caterers had setup drinks and a tray of canapés. “Well, here it is.” he said as he motioned at the new centerpiece of his den. They all got a close look at the painting. “Now I don’t know who the artist is but isn’t this an excellent piece?” Gerald beamed at the group of 6. Carol and Rob nodded. “So, What do you think?" Gerald asked. “Gerald, it’s great” Jennifer said. “Yeah” Bernice agreed. “I couldn’t tell you what it’s worth until I find out who the artist is, but I’ve seen similar pieces that aren’t nearly as good go for thousands of dollars”, Gerald said, trying not to sound like he was bragging. Gerald looked at Stephanie and Ben. She looked perplexed as Ben struggled to control a chuckle. “I’m sorry, It’s just that I know who painted this” Ben said. A lump formed in Gerald’s throat, “Who is it?” Gerald asked excitedly. Ben almost laughed, “ Well it’s more of a what then a who” Ben continued. A sensation of panic hit Gerald like a baseball bat to the chest. Everyone was starring at Ben. “Well, there’s a pretty large Zoo in Baltimore. Back, I don’t know, maybe ten years ago they had a funding crunch. They came up with all sorts of marketing ideas” Gerald’s heart began to sink. “They had a chimpanzee there named Zelda. She did some paintings and they auctioned them off.” Gerald’s jaw dropped open. “See there in the bottom corner in that dark gray color, It’s a “Z” on it’s side “ Ben said, pointing at the mark and nodding. Gerald felt his face redden. A sudden surge of anger shot up in him but then remembered that he only paid thirteen dollars for the painting but over four hundred for the frame and lighting. He could hear his grandmothers words ring in his ears “The price of a thing is not its value, dear” Gerald hung his head and sighed “Oh, grandma”. |