A CURIOUS COMING OF AGE

A CURIOUS COMING OF AGE

         Edward worked at the auction house every other Saturday

during the era of Prohibition.

         His son, Bill, also worked at the auction house as a loading

man. He wanted to help with the house expenses while he finished

his schooling.

         As a committed young man with developed muscles, he was

easily the next new hire.

         Bill’s responsibilities were to load the trucks and cars with the

purchased merchandise. One’s speed and dexterity were a big

influence on the rewards that would be earned via the tips. The

more customers that were helped meant more tips that would be

earned. The more merchandise that was loaded would be an

important consideration to the tip amount. It was a cut and dry

deal.

         As the auction reached mid-day, the pace of loading the trucks

and cars picked up and would rapidly increase to the point where

the young men returning back into the auction house from a

loading might be abducted by an impatient customer. 

         Bill learned many unusual things at the auctions.

         On one occasion Bill and his father stood at the back of the

large auction house where three large stacks of Persian rugs stood.

A filthy man approached one stack to examine the rugs. He then

plucked a knife from his pocket. He wasted no time slashing the top

rug with his knife. He then started to tear open the slash with his

powerful hands.

         “Hey, mister! What do you think you’re doing?” Bill yelled.

         The man only ignored him and continued the tearing.

         Bill could not ascertain what this scruffy man was up to with

rug abuse.

         His father quickly stepped over to intervene.

         “This man is doing nothing wrong, Bill. He is an Armenian rug

maker and wholesaler. He comes to the auctions often to bid on the

rugs that have found their way here. He is checking on the quality

and strength of the weaving. If a few slashed rugs meet his

standards, he will bid on all of the rugs in the consignment.

         “But he slashed some rugs and ruined them,” Bill argued. “It’s

just not right!”

         “He will repair those rugs with little effort,” his father

explained. “He’s a very experienced rugmaker.”

         “Dad, do you see that young woman over there with the red

shirt? She usually buys something heavy and cheap, like a box of

books, so she can flirt with one of us as we walk to her car. If the

guy asks her out, she gives him a big tip. I’ve heard that she makes

for an active evening.

         “What does she do with all the books?” Edward asked.

         “Just drops them back at the auction house during the week. I

mean I’ve heard talk that she does,” Bill explained. “What little she

gets for them she just puts aside for the tip at the next auction.

She’s got quite the operation, huh? Occasional benefits go with it,

too!”

         “Makes one wonder how many times she’s bought the same

box of books?” Edward said with a wide grin.

         “Yeah,” Bill chuckled.

         “Bill, you must learn to be more broad-minded. People are all

different. The various nationalities in this part of town have many

and diverse customs,” his father elucidated. “It’s a big, wide world

out there! For example, that Armenian rugmaker lived at home until

he married. An Armenian custom is that children live at home until

they marry.”

         The auction was half over. Customers were beginning to make

an exit and look for a loading man.

         Bill took a few turns loading only small amounts of

merchandise and then returned to his station.

         “Starting to get busy,” Bill remarked to his father. “See you

later at the house.”

         As he turned, the scruffy rug man approached him. The rug

man overheard the earlier conversation at the stacks of small

Persian rugs.

“I need a loading man to help me load the rugs onto a rolling

pallet to take to my truck. Are you available?” the scruffy man

inquired. 

         “Sure. I am, mister,” Bill replied eagerly.

         This job will take a while and I bet he must be rich! Should be a

big tip!

         They both toiled for over an hour.

         “I am Jenab,” the filthy man said as they loaded the rugs into

Jenab’s truck. “These rugs are very muddied.”

         “Name is Bill. Pleased to meet you”, Bill replied.

         “One day you might like to see my rug shop. If you have time,

you could come today? You could help me to unload,” Jenab

explained. “It’s not very far, and I will drop you back here.”

         “I’m good to go whenever you are,” Bill said with a hint of

excitement.

         They reached the rug shop quickly and unloaded the truck in

just thirty minutes.

         Jenab gave Bill a quick explanation of how he would repair the

slashed rugs. After the repair, a rug would be carefully washed and

hung up to dry.

         “The auction must be about over. Let me get you back to the

auction house,” Jenab suggested.

         The two filthy men climbed into the truck.

         For Jenab, there was a feeling of satisfaction and

accomplishment in the air.

         For Bill, there was nervous anticipation in the air.

         They reached the auction house as a few stragglers were

leaving.

         “Thank you very much, young man. You were a very big help,”

Jenab said. “Maybe I will see you in two weeks. I will give you a tip

the next time I see you.”

         Bill was livid. After a hard day at work, he had only a few cents

to show for it. He would have very little to give his parents to help

them with the house bills.

         Jenab was not at the next auction.

         Bill began to feel that he had been swindled.

         When Bill arrived for work at the second auction he found his

father and Jenab in friendly conversation!

         Does Jenab have any scruples at all?

         Bill calmly walked up to them with his anger well in control.

         “Well, look who just arrived,” Jenab announced with a smile.

         “Do you have something for me, Jenab?” Bill said flatly.

         “Sure do. Have it right over here in this box,” Jenab said as two

other friends presented themselves.

         Jenab pulled out a used glass bottle filled with a golden fluid.

There was a cork at the top. The long, narrow neck was stuffed with

many large, brown cockroaches.

         Jenab presented the bottle to Bill.

Bill stood there flabbergasted with his fists tightening.

         Edward braced for the moment.

         What kind of an insult is this? What a jerk?

         Rather than reach out to accept it, Bill pulled his right arm

back to take a swing at Jenab.

         Edward quickly braced and pulled Bill’s arm down.

         “Bill, stop. Listen! Let me explain this to you.”

         Jenab appeared to be confused.

         Bill was confused.

         The moment was static.

         “This is a very nice gift that you brought to my son, Jenab,”

Edward thanked with sincerity.

“The Armenians and Azerbaijanis like to brew whiskey and do so

where it’s out of sight due to prohibition,” Edward explained. “So,

it’s brewed under the kitchen sink. The whiskey collects in a big

tub. The cockroaches run along the pipes. The fumes cause them to

fall into the brew. At some point it was realized that the

cockroaches gave the whiskey a great flavor. They are stuffed tight

into the neck of the bottle so that when pouring it out of the vessel

even more flavor is added.”

         Edward left to get five paper cups.

         Upon return, he poured the elixir into all five cups.

         Bill took his cup and poured it back slowly into the bottle.

         “Nope. No way,” Bill said, shaking his head.

         “I also have three dollars for you, Bill,” Jenab said proudly.

         Bill cracked a big smile.

         “Anytime we are both here at the auction house, I want you to

be my loading man,” Jenab added. “On the Saturdays that there are

no auctions, I could use some help at the rug shop with making the

rug repairs. 

         Bill cracked an even bigger smile.

         Four raised their cups.

         “Hats off!” Edward pronounced.

         No one wore a hat, but it was no matter!

         Weeks earlier two men, one older and one younger, exchanged

only flashes of eye contact during their brief encounters.

         Each had now seen something else in the other. 

         The older man saw it on the first day.

         The younger man saw it only today.

         Now Jenab and Bill stood and looked eye to eye at each other.

         Neither spoke.

         This moment was purely a result of happenstance.

         “Jenab,” Bill said. “I will be your loading man.”