Baubles and Stars

They were ushered into the room and then left there to wait. There were six of them in all — six crammed into one waiting room. There were seats to spare but no room for any of them. Four men, two women, and the room was too full. Three of the men were comparatively young — one plain, one handsome, one married — and the old man made them all look cheap. Two women — one vibrant, one in white — one was married, and the silence became unbearable.

They should have all been speaking at once. With such a collection of characters, silence? This wasn’t the group from which you could expect silence, each was concerned with his own thoughts. These were men and woman selected by fate alone, sharing no connection but one: the misfortune of having chosen tonight to dine in the back room of Christie's where a singularly important personage had entered with a diamond bracelet and left without one. Surely, that was something to talk about. 

Thus — “Diamonds.”

Everyone turned toward the speaker.

“Diamonds,” the plain man repeated. "My ev'nin's gone all wrong, and for what? — Diamonds. A couple hunks of crushed carbon not worth the time it took to make 'em."

He paused to allow for laughter, but instead, the silence resumed its pounding in their ears. No one felt much like laughing, even if they had found him funny. So, a moment or two later, the same man continued, awkward now and growing angrier. 

Strange. He wouldn't have been pegged as the type to start conversation with anyone. No doubt he typically wasn't. If the room had been noisy, he would have resented the disturbance. But this heavy silence was even worse, so he filled it.

“What do I care if some old lady's bracelet got swiped? I didn't do it, and yet, they take me, hold me — me! Bring me in to the station, me who's never done a thing against the law in his life. Ain't that just the world's gratitude for ya. And for what, I ask ya? … Diamonds. A couple of crummy little stones worth nothin' but what some crummy little pawn'll give for 'm. What about my ev'nin'? Ain't people worth more than some rich woman's baubles?”

He was what one might call a free-thinker. To him, money wasn't important (he certainly didn't have any), and thus, the value of the “bauble” shouldn't have been considered in the case. What were a few stones compared to the pricelessness of people, their valued time, their “ev'nin,” says he? Funny, he never thought about the rich woman. Just her diamonds.

The room fell silent again until —

“Never wear them.” 

This statement was flashed out by the beautiful woman in green who was at that moment smoking a cigarette flagrantly under the No Smoking sign with an art so careless one almost believed it was. Almost. But the woman was too smart for that. The best actress knows to never fully convince her audience, for then she'd lose all their admiration. No one has ever been praised for merely living. Not that she was an actress for a living, just for her life.

“Madame?” — this from the old man.

“Never wear them.” She repeated, flicking ash. “I never wear diamonds.”

“But why, madame?”

A tiny smile crooked one corner of her lips. “Oh,” she said, “anyone can wear diamonds. I never liked diamonds, too much en vogue. They're so usual … so dull and white. White, such a boring, trifling color. And everyone does wear them or at least wants to, tries those cheap knock-offs. Just like everyone wears white. It’s a cheap, easy color.” 

She seemed to be oblivious of the rising blush of her neighbor in white, but her eyes snaked in her direction, quickly. “Now, rubies and emeralds and sapphires — those have character, color! But everyone looks good in white, and in diamonds. I never wear either.”

Almost unconsciously, everyone stared at the other woman, now more red than white. Despite her embarrassment, she did not fail to respond, having caught something concrete to disagree with. “I wouldn't say that a diamond is white. It's got every color in it! As does white itself, I guess, all the colors of light.” She ended rather lamely.

“Oh, perhaps, darling.” The woman in green dismissed the other woman’s objection as lightly she did her cigarette butt. “But everyone looks good in diamonds and white, and I'd hate to look only as good as everyone else.”

“That's not quite true,” mused the old man, making his return to the conversation. “Only the happy should wear diamonds. The unhappy wear them because they're expensive, might as well have pasted paper money to their skin. But the joyful … on the joyful, they might well be stars!”

“Then I must be happy. Happy, happy, happy!” The green woman laughed bitterly. “Everyone stares and tells me I look ravishing in diamonds.”

“Oh, that's not necessarily true…” The old man mused. “Anyone and everyone looks at money. But when was the last time you saw someone notice the stars?”

The married man spoke up now, pointedly, though quietly, asking the woman in green, “I thought you never wore diamonds, anyways?”

The silence, always uncomfortable, was now venomous. The woman in white spoke again, just to break it. “I never wear diamonds either, just the one.” She looked down. “It’s small, and I doubt many people ever notice it, but I do, all the time. And it makes me happy, if no one else.”

So softly and tenderly that the rest of the room knew they weren't supposed to hear, her husband answered her, “It makes me happy too.”

It was fitting that the old man had the last word: “Doesn't that make all the difference?”

No one responded, and the silence returned, almost palpable with tension. But someone must have been praying for relief because, after only a few minutes, their wait ended abruptly.

A police officer entered the room and let them all go. The bracelet had been found in the women's bathroom at Christie's — not stolen after all, just misplaced. All six of them left without another word to each other, though the old man took the time to tip his hat to the ladies in farewell and the plain man blustered his annoyance to the officer.

It wasn't until they reached their homes, much later that night than they had anticipated, that any of the speakers realized that the handsome young man had never said a word.

Only one had noticed that his tears looked like diamonds under the police light.