Bidder Number 12

Going ONCE, going TWICE… and SOLD to Bidder Number 12!

Joe adjusted his bow tie and flattened the creases of his blazer, as he heard the applause ring through the auditorium, following the thud of the auctioneer’s gavel. He stood primed in position, backstage, ready to transport item 57 to Bidder Number 12.

Twenty thousand dollars for a notebook.

In his years of working at the auction house, he had seen some outlandish purchases but this took the cake. Heck, it took the entire bakery. Sure, it was a Moleskin, but who would spend twenty large on a little black notebook - a blank one, at that.

Rich people, he thought to himself. A species of their own. Joe wore his humble background with pride; he had grown up rough in the Bronx, a third generation working class New Yorker who had seen it all. He may not have the wealth of the bidders whom he served within these swanky Fifth Avenue auction rooms, but he had his priceless family. He smiled, thinking of his little girl, just shy of one.

Linda was in the throes of planning their little princess’ first birthday party. His Uncle, Louis, had kindly offered his bar as the venue. There would be a few regulars there - Louis couldn’t close to the public - he needed all the income he could get with rental rates increasing thanks to the slow gentrification of the neighbourhood. Fifth Avenue ain’t enough for these rich folk, their hipster kids have to take over the Bronx now, too. Lucky Joe was part of his tight knit community - they would help each other out, no matter what.

As the applause died down, Joe walked over to the processing table and donned a pair of white felt gloves. He carefully collected the moleskin notebook from the inspector, before placing it in a padded box the auction rooms provided for small purchases. He used the standard lock strap to fasten the box, ensuring its contents would not be tampered with between now and being handed to Bidder Number 12.

Joe walked through the hallways of the auction house towards the collection room. He entered the security code and proceeded to the small, enclosed space where transporters like himself would hand successful purchases to the winning bidders. For security purposes, they would be separated by a glass window which would drop down through the entry of another security code. The bidders would, of course, be accompanied by another employee on the other side of the window, who would enter the code.

The door creaked open and a woman, dressed in black entered the room. Her petite face hid behind a large fascinator and oversized sunglasses and all Joe could see were her red lips. She must be Bidder Number 12; where was her chaperone, though?

“Excuse me, Miss. Were you not accompanied here? We have a strict policy..”

“My apologies, Giuseppe, I am eager to leave and have been here before so I rushed out of the auditorium before I had a chance to be accompanied.”

Joe froze. How did she know his name? No one called him Giuseppe, not even his own mother. “R-right, that may be the case, Miss - sorry, I did not catch your name.. Umm, sorry but do we know each other?” He was frazzled and struggled to maintain his professional demeanour.

“Oh, no we don’t - I apologise if I startled you - I just assumed Joe was short for Giuseppe”, the lady cooly replied, motioning to Joe’s name tag. “You kinda look Italian”.

Joe did not expect such casual verbose from Bidder Number 12, so elegantly dressed. There was something about her that felt familiar. He was sure he knew her. Was she from the Bronx? Had she moved to Manhattan, to a better life that belied her gritty roots? Before he had a chance to ask, she punched a series of numbers on the keypad and the glass window dropped.

“Don’t worry, Joe, like I said, I’ve been here before and have special privileges. Now, may I have the object of my winning bid?” She lowered her sunglasses, partially revealing her eyes. He swore he knew her, but before he could say a word or protest this blatant breach of protocol, she reached towards the box and he robotically unlocked its strap, offering the little black notebook to her. She swiftly picked it up and held it to her chest, as though she had been searching for it her whole life.

“Thank you, Joe, and don’t worry you haven’t breached any protocol. See you in a bit.” She flashed him a smile and left the room as unexpectedly as she had entered it.

Joe locked the window and the door behind him and finished the rest of his shift in silence. He was not admonished for what had transpired, nor did anyone mention anything untoward about Bidder Number 12 entering the collection point by herself. Then again, he had not raised it with anyone. The last thing he needed was to lose his job.

As he walked towards the subway, he reflected on the evening and tried his damndest to recall where he had seen Bidder Number 12 before. Was it the glint of her mischievous eyes that had him perplexed, or that she claimed she had special privileges at the auction house?

By the time he reached his home, he had dismissed his wandering mind and categorised his strange encounter to another rich person getting to do whatever they wanted. Joe made his way upstairs and got ready for bed, peering into his precious baby girl’s room on the way to his.

***

“Grandpa Joe, Grandpa Joe!” Joe snapped back to the present, at the sound of his grandson’s calls. “What were you thinking about?”

“Oh, nothing, my little prince!”

Thirty years had passed and he still thought about that night. Bidder Number 12 and her little black notebook.

“Well, would you look at the time! I have to get you home to your mama - she will be home from work now”. Joe babysat his grandson on Thursday evenings, while his own princess - not so little anymore - worked late at the University. He was so proud of her, she worked on cutting edge technology of which he understood very little. He heard her lab had constructed a time travel portal but that was surely a rumour. Yes it was 2051 but Back to the Future was still just the stuff of dreams. Either way, his little princess was heading up the University’s technology department and he could not have been more proud.

Joe dropped his grandson home and embraced his daughter. “Papa, I wish you would let me pay you for all of this babysitting”.

“Are you crazy! You are my princess and he is my little prince. Don’t you ever mention money again!”

Joe’s daughter appeared exasperated. She had offered to buy her parents a new home but they stuck to their humble abode, the house she grew up in. Her gifts of a new car, a holiday and outright cash, were met with anger as her parents did not want her spending anything on them. Be one of those rich bidders I used to wait on, her father had said. She had to be creative, she needed to give back and acknowledge what they had sacrificed for her.

“I best be on my way - your mother made pie tonight!” Joe smiled as he waved goodbye and headed home.

As he walked from the subway to his home, Linda rang him, a panicked excitement ringing through his cell phone. “How far away are you… something has arrived in the mail - you need to see this!” Linda exclaimed.

“Five minutes my love, what is it?”

“Just come home and see for yourself”.

Joe hastened his pace and all but ran into his house. “What, Linda?!”

Linda thrust a nondescript white envelope into his hands. “Look inside, Joe”.

Joe opened the envelope and pulled out a note, with a cheque attached.

Dear Mr Guiseppe Bearzatto,

Tonight, we sold a black notebook for the sum of twenty thousand dollars. It was a peculiar transaction, as the notebook had been donated by an anonymous source and had been valued at twenty dollars, however we were assured by this source that the notebook would be of extreme value to one of our regular bidders.

There was one condition on the sale of the notebook - that all proceeds be placed in a security deposit box at 176 Main Street and be made available to you in 30 years, on 1 March 2051. The code for the security box is 2821 .

Leonards’ Auction Rooms.

This had to be a joke. Bidder Number 12 had left him the 20 large? Why him, why now? He had so many questions. It did not make any sense… he knew he had known her from somewhere! His life was about to change, he would not be rich like those Fifth Avenue folk, but twenty thousand dollars would go a long way and he would finally be able to take Linda on the honeymoon she had dreamt of all those years ago.

He had to call his little princess. “You will not believe what happened. Some rich lady I met at the auction rooms all those years ago - she left me $20,000! I knew that notebook wasn’t worth nothing!”

His little princess smiled. “That is so amazing, Papa. I told you, it’s what you deserve!”. As she ended the call, she hung up her fascinator and took out the little black notebook from her purse. Even scientists like her could think creatively, she laughed as she returned back to the future, back to the stuff of dreams.