The Yard Sale Purchase

The Yard Sale Purchase

Lizzie Anderson was twelve years old with a crop of golden hair and a smile you could hang on forever. She had vivid blue eyes and was of average height and weight. At the moment, she felt like she was six inches tall.

“But, mother, I really do love Aunt Beatrice. I just don’t want to gallivant the countryside running from one stupid yard sale after another. It’s not how I want to spend my Saturday. I had plans.”

Lizzie’s mother smiled at her.

“Your father has an important golf tournament and I have to work.”

“Janie can stay with me.”

“No, she has plans.”

“She promised that she would stay with me.”

“Well, she has a life to live. We all do.”

“Well, I have my own life to live. Why can’t I stay alone?”

“No and no again. The case is closed. You are going to spend the day with your Aunt Beatrice.”

“This isn’t fair.”

Her mother smiled and walked away. Lizzie had lost the battle.

When Janie came home Lizzie was waiting for her.

“What do you want little one?”

“I am not a little one. You promised that you would stay home on Saturday.”

“So I changed my mind. Get over it.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Fair is for suckers. Look, squirt, I have plans on Saturday and you get to spend the time with Aunt Beatrice. Have fun, sucker.”

“I hate you.”

“Ouch, that really hurts.”

Janie walked away laughing.

On Saturday, Aunt Beatrice arrived just before eight o’clock dressed in her yard sale clothes revved up and ready to go. She always were the floral dress and the flower hat with a price tag on it. This was the first item that the woman had ever bartered over and won. It held special, powerful significance.

On Friday night, the elderly woman would sit at her large, oak desk and go through all of the flyers mapping out a route for the next morning.

Her parents were up early, but Janie lazed in bed which only enraged Lizzie even more.  

“Aunt Beatrice is here. Have a good day.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

She was so angry that she didn’t even kiss her mother goodbye.

The thing was if someone had been to one yard sale they had been to all of them.  It was someone’s else’s junk. 

But Aunt Beatrice was always fond of saying: “One person’s junk is another person’s treasure.”

It was going to be a long day. Lizzie looked at the list of yard sales that her aunt had written out and they were going to hit everyone - both big and small - in the surrounding area. They would dart from one street to another like a couple of water bugs.

The thing was, Aunt Beatrice rarely bought anything. She liked to barter.  According to Aunt Beatrice there was no one - absolutely no one - that could barter better than her.

So Lizzie was forced to stand there while her Aunt tried to break somebody down for nothing more than a nickel and then turn around and walk away from the item.

“The thrill is in the barter not the purchase,” she was always fun of saying.

From eight in the morning until almost noon, they traveled from one yard sale to another. Her aunt didn’t buy anything but had bartered at least a dozen times and had won every time.

“What a great day because I have a perfect record.”

There had only been one problem. At the one yard sale, there was a young couple and Aunt Beatrice made a very strange face. She grabbed Lizzie and they raced off.

“What is wrong, Aunt Beatrice?”

“I will tell you later. I need some fresh air.”

It was almost time for lunch anyway.

Lunch was the worst. Lizzie had wanted to pack some food, but her mother said no.

“Aunt Beatrice called earlier in the week and said that lunch was on her.”

Aunt Beatrice was crazy about brown sugar sandwiches and Lizzie hated them. Aside from the brown sugar sandwiches, there were some sliced apples that would turn yellow by the time they were to be eaten and for dessert a couple packs of yogurt. Lizzie hated yogurt.

“Well, we have had a fun morning.”

“It’s been okay. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, now that I had some fresh air.”

“So what was the problem?”

“Well, one day, my car was in the shop and I had to take the city bus. So I did just that and there were a couple of young people sitting next to me. They were dressed rather shabbily, but worst of all they emoted a very strong odour. I didn’t know what it was until talking to someone later on.

The smell made me sick. I raced home and had to lie down for the rest of the afternoon.”

“What did they smell like Aunt Beatrice?”

“It was obvious they smelled like marijuana.”

“Oh, I smelt it once and it was gross.”

“Yes, please promise me that you will never do any of that awful stuff.”

“I promise, Aunt Beatrice.”

After lunch, they roared back at it hitting a street that boasted ten houses that were staging yard sales.

“We hit a bonanza!”

Aunt Beatrice raced off and Lizzie sighed. After more than an hour, the young girl was spent.

“Maybe we should go home now, Aunt Beatrice?”

“Absolutely not, we still have a number of yard sales to hit. Can’t you feel the excitement?”

So they marched on.  

It was the end of the day and Lizzie was absolutely exhausted. At last count, they had gone to one-hundred and seventeen yard sales and Aunt Beatrice hadn’t bought one single item, but had bartered forty-one times. It was sure to be a new record.

All day long, Lizzie didn’t find anything she wanted to buy. She had a five dollar bill burning in her pocket, a gift from her father who felt guilty that she had to spend all day with Aunt Beatrice, a woman that he didn’t really care for that much.

It was one of the last stops and she saw a cute little mirror.  About a month ago, there had been a real clap of thunder that had shook the house enough for the mirror that hung over her dresser to fall and crash.

“Mom, does this mean that I am going to have seven years of bad luck?”

“No, honey, you didn’t break it, nature did.”

But the mirror was seven dollars. She didn’t want to ask Aunt Beatrice for the extra two dollars. Then the little girl had a brilliant idea.

She walked up to the couple that was hosting the yard sale. 

“Hello, how much is this mirror?”

“It is seven dollars. The price tag is right at the bottom.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see it. Too bad, I guess I’ll have to put it back cause I only have five dollars.”

Aunt Beatrice was nearby and her ears perked up.

“Let me see that mirror, Lizzie.”  She picked it up and examined the object. “Why that mirror isn’t worth more than four dollars.”

“I’m sorry, but the price on the object is the correct one.”

The woman smiled.

The bartering machine in Aunt Beatrice was turned on full power.

“Well, the mirror isn’t exactly free of impurities. Take a note of that word child it is a big one.”

Lizzie nodded her head.

“At the last yard sale we were at a mirror that was much larger was only six dollars.”

“Yes, but this mirror has been in the family for decades. It has sentimental value.”

“Well, if it has sentimental value then why are you selling it?”

“That would be none of your business.”

“I think you are trying to steal money from my niece.”

“That is preposterous.”

“I would say this mirror is worth no more than four dollars.”

“Six-fifty is the lowest I can go.”

“Six-fifty?  Why we can buy a much larger mirror at the dollar store for like three dollars.”

“Then maybe you should go to the dollar store and buy that mirror?”

“That is good advice, but then you would be out of a sale. If you continue this route then you will not sell a single item.”

Aunt Beatrice smiled that annoying smile that drove Lizzie’s father nuts.

“Six dollars is the lowest I will go.”

Aunt Beatrice winked at Lizzie.

“I can see your point of view. I think it is worth four dollars and fifty cents.  That is the highest we can go.”

“No deal, please give the mirror back.”

“Oh, Aunt Beatrice I really do want this mirror. It would be just perfect for my bedroom.”

“We will give you four dollars and seventy-five cents.”

“I am sorry but we cannot part with it for that piddly sum of money.”

“Yes, you make a good point.  I guess you have no children or grand-children.”

“I have four children, two boys and two girls. Of course, they are all grown up now.  We celebrated our second grand-child about two months ago.”

“Then you understand the heart of a child. They aren’t greedy, but work on an excitement level and when they see something they want, their heart breaks when there is failure.”

“Yes, but it is a nice little mirror.”

“Yes, little is a wonderful word.  This corner looks like it could come apart at any moment.  It could be a safety hazard. I believe according to the yard sale rules selling a hazardous object is against-

“Five dollars, final offer.”

“Sold!” Screamed Lizzie.

She pulled out the crumpled little five dollar bill out of her jean pocket and handed it to the lady all the while not taking her hand off the coveted mirror.

They left.

In the car, Lizzie was beaming.  Aunt Beatrice looked over and smiled.

“Your winning, heartfelt smile was worth all of the traveling we did today.”

“Aunt Beatrice, thank you so much. You are the absolute queen of the barter.”

“Yes, the thrill is in the barter not in the purchase.”

Lizzie laughed.

“Well, they are both great this time.”

“Yes, they are.”

“Always remember Aunt Beatrice it is better to have bartered and lost than to have never bartered at all.”

They shared a laugh. 

“I want to thank you for providing such wonderful company today. I know that young girls have much more important things that they want to do than trample all over the place hanging with their eccentric Aunt going to boring yard sales.”

“Yard sales aren’t that boring. I have a new mirror.”

“That you do, my dear.”

“Aunt Beatrice you have to stay for supper.”

“Well, I am not sure-

“Don’t worry about father. I can deal with him. I insist and if he says anything I will tell him it was my idea.”

“Okay, I would never argue with someone holding such a fine mirror.”

They both cackled like old war buddies and zoomed down the road.

When she got home, Lizzie ran into her room and placed the mirror above the dresser. 

“Oh, mirror, you look just absolutely splendid up there.”

She looked at the mirror and jumped back. It wasn’t her face that reflected; it was that of her aunt.

“Yeah, right.”

She tried again. It was the picture of Aunt Beatrice all dressed up in her yard sale garb.

“Okay, maybe I was in the sun too long today.”

“Lizzie come and set the table please.”

“Gladly.”

She raced out of the room and down the stairs.

“Did you place the mirror?”

“Yes, Aunt Beatrice I did and it looks great. You can take a look if you want but don’t look into it because I haven’t cleaned it yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay.”

Aunt Beatrice stood up and started towards the stairs.

“Wait, Aunt Beatrice you can’t go look at it because my room is a mess. I would be so embarrassed if you went inside and saw the mess.”

“Oh, what’s a little mess between soul sisters?”

She put a foot on the first step.

Lizzie grabbed her arm.

“Trust me, Aunt Beatrice.”

“I was in your room this morning and it was fine,” her mother said.

“Yes, well it got messy when I was putting up the mirror.”

“How could you room get so messy when you were putting up a simple mirror?”

Aunt Beatrice was on the fourth step.

“It just did. Oh, Aunt Beatrice, you really don’t want to go up there.”

“Lizzie I need you to set the table.”

“I would but I can’t do it alone. I need Aunt Beatrice’s help.”

Aunt Beatrice was on the fifth step.

“What are you talking about you set the table almost every night and she isn’t here? I need the table set right now.”

“But, but-

“Now, Lizzie and I am not going to ask you again.”

She moved very close to her mother and smiled.

“But mother, I was cleaning out my underwear drawer like you’ve asked me to do and they are all sitting on the bed. I don’t want Aunt Beatrice to see my underwear.”

Her mother raced up the stairs and a few seconds later came down with Aunt Beatrice.

Lizzie smiled and turned toward the cupboard to fetch the plates waiting.

I won. I bartered and I won. It is better to have bartered and won than to have never bartered at all. She giggled hard.

“Is there something funny?”

“No, not at all mother.”

A minute later, her father came home with a new iPad that he had won at the golf tournament.  The man was always winning something at those events.

Jamie walked in just a few minutes shy of when she was supposed to be home with a giant smirk on her face.

Supper was rather boring as her father and Aunt Beatrice were both exhausted from the day and the usual bickering and postering didn’t happen.

Aunt Beatrice left but not before Lizzie gave her a big hug.

“Thanks for letting me hang around with you today, Aunt Beatrice.”

“Oh, the pleasure was all mine. Remember the invitation is open every Saturday.”

“Well, I can’t promise that I will be there every Saturday, but I will go with you again sometime. I promise.”

And she meant to keep that promise.

Later that night, her mother and father popped in to take a look at the mirror.

“It looks nice dear. “

“Thanks mom.”

“That was five dollars well spent.”

“I thought so.”

She winked at her father and he winked back.

She waited until her parents were gone and looked into the mirror:

“Mirror, mirror on the wall

If I could be anybody

I would choose to be

the best barterer of them all.”

She looked and saw herself except dressed like Aunt Beatrice including the flower dress and floral hat with the price tag dangling from it.

“Oh, that can’t be right.”

Her sister Jamie popped in.

“Is that the mirror everyone is talking about?” 

“It is.”

“It looks rather cheap if you asked me.”

“You’re cheap and you owe me.”

“Think again, squirt, I don’t owe you anything.”

“You were supposed to stay home today like you promised.”

“What are you going to do about it cry?”

“No, but you are going to cry when mom and dad find out you lied to them.”

“I did not. Even if I did, you can’t prove it.”

“If you say so, but if I can prove it - and I can - just think how much trouble you’ll be in? You will be grounded for like ever.”

“Okay, prove it.”

“I could smell it off you when you walked in the front door.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told mom and dad that you were going to help your friend out but you went to the park and-

“Shut up, Lizzie.”

Lizzie laughed hard. She knew there was something wrong when Aunt Beatrice hugged her and made a horrible face. Later on, she claimed that she was a little lightheaded. The only thing that made her dizzy was marijuana smoke.

Janie advanced on Lizzie who smiled.

“Touch me and I scream my lungs out.”

She backed off.

“Okay, brat, what do you want?”

The power surged through her.  

“First of all, I really don’t like the way you talk to me. I am not a brat or a squirt. From this point on you will address me as Princess Lizzie.”

“No way.”

“Oh, mom, did you know-

“Okay, fine.”

“Okay, fine what?”

“Okay, Princess Lizzie.” Janie looked like she was going to throw up.

“Second of all, if you make a promise then you are not allowed to break it. Any promise that you break will cost you ten dollars.”

“This is extortion.”

“I guess so, but I really hate it when people break promises to me. Oh and the fee goes up ten dollars every time you break a promise.”

“You little-

“Ah, ah, watch that language of yours it could cost you a lot of money. If you call me something I don’t like then that is going to also be ten dollars.”

“I’m going to tell mom and dad.”

“Go ahead, and we will go to the source. You are dismissed for now.”

“I’ll get you for this, I swear I will.”

“Swearing and threats are very costly. Oh, and one more thing never, ever walk into my room without special written permission. Good-bye for now.”

Lizzie slammed the door in her sister’s face.

She went to the mirror and smiled.

“Mirror. Mirror on the wall

who’s the best barterer of them all?

You are Lizzie girl

You're the best in the whole world.”

She laughed watching it in the mirror.  

The transformation was now complete.