CATCHING UP... a bit (Part 123f)

CATCHING UP... a bit (Part 123f)

I had to wait until the next morning to get answers. Elle called to say that the auctioneer had stopped by to see Celia and basically told her that to stage an auction for just her things wasn’t worth the effort. He was looking for antiques and the only one’s he found were the pieces she’d picked out to keep. She told Elle that she’d hoped to get some money from them but her sister was urging her to just get rid of the stuff any way she could. Elle didn’t come right out and say it but hinted that Celia wanted me to do it for her. The good news was that she was going to leave for New Jersey the following Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving.

At least I was forewarned before I got to Celia’s that night. Her sister and nephew had loaded up the things she wanted to take with her (basically, her bedroom suite) and had left just before dark. No sooner had I entered the kitchen when she asked if there was anything in the house that I wanted. There wasn’t but, to be kind, said I’d take a close look. When we got to the second floor I could smell the stale urine emanating from Sophie’s room. The master bedroom was empty except for piles of clothing and empty cardboard boxes. I didn’t even want to go into Sophie’s room but followed her in. Sophie hadn’t come upstairs with us so, to make conversation, I asked how she was taking the situation. Celia shrugged but admitted that when it came time to pack up her things it would probably get ”messy“.

Right across from Sophie’s room there was a closed door. I’d opened it the day I’d gone into the house to get clean clothes for Celia when she was at the hospital with her husband but had no memory of what was inside. When Celia opened the door and turned on the ceiling light I saw a very sparsely furnished room... twin beds and a chest of drawers with no mattresses on the beds. I asked what she’d used the room for and she didn’t really give me an answer. I hated to tell her that there really wasn’t anything of interest.

At that point she turned to me and asked what should she do with everything. In the back of my mind I was waiting for just that question. Because it was only a matter of days until she planned to leave the big questions were how it would be moved and who would do it. The obvious answer of what to do with it was to take it to the landfill. John (my farmer neighbor) had helped out when I’d been involved with the yard clean up. He was the only one I could think of because I knew he had a truck to get it moved. Even though I hated to do it I gave him a call from Celia’s house. Almost unbelievably he said he’d come right over. I don’t think it took him five minutes.

As soon as he walked in the kitchen door he looked at the table and chairs and asked Celia how much she wanted for it. I remember a similar table and chairs in the apartment I lived in during and right after WWII. It had a baked enamel top and had round chrome legs. The chairs sort of matched the chrome on the table but they had red plastic seats. Celia didn’t have an answer for him. John explained that he needed them for his new ”bunkhouse“.

Back in that period of time farmers would hire migrant workers to harvest the crops. With the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 there were rules established as to the housing provided for these workers. John and his father, having one of the larger farms in the township, were picked to create the standard for smaller farmers to follow. He’d built a cement block building that contained a bathroom and kitchen as well as space for 10 beds. It had cost way more than expected and it hadn’t been a particularly profitable year on the farm so they hadn’t purchased much in the way of furnishings. I’d seen the inside after the roof was on and even though it was new it was stark and not very appealing. I’d never seen the inside of what had preceded it but the outside was dilapidated so I could only imagine how bad the inside was. John had purchased ten Army surplus beds for the migrants but that was all. He’d been cited by the local civil rights group for failing to live up to the code that had been established and they were demanding that he provide additional ”comforts“ including tables, chairs and lamps. When he saw Celia’s table and chairs he knew he had solved a bit of his problem.

After John fully explained his situation Celia showed him the rest of the furniture. He was almost beside himself saying that he’d take most of it and wanting to know how much money Celia wanted. I stood there afraid to say anything. I was happy that she was going to get some money but I didn’t know how to advise her and I certainly didn’t want my neighbor to pay too much. Because Celia kept shrugging her shoulders I finally spoke up to say that regardless of the amount decided upon there was still the problem of getting all the stuff out of the house. That did it. John offered $100 for everything on the first floor and would remove everything else. I didn’t know if it was a good deal or bad deal but the look on Celia’s face told me that she was satisfied. Because she wasn’t leaving until the following Wednesday it was left that John would clean out the house right after that. I chimed in that I’d help him move the stuff.

With that hurdle cleared, packing up both hers and Sophie’s clothes plus their personal things was next on Celia’s agenda. That Saturday morning Elle got a call from her asking if she could watch Sophie. She’d started to go through Sophie’s things and she’d become very upset. She didn't want to tell Sophie that they were moving away quite yet. On top of that it was Sophie’s birthday. Hearing that, Elle asked if she could take her out to lunch as a way to celebrate. Celia, true to her nature, didn’t want Elle to go out of her way but Elle finally wore her down.

I was out in the garage when Elle approached me about her plan. I had no problem until she asked if she could spend some of the money we’d put aside for Christmas for new clothes for Sophie. I gave her a ”look“ and she explained that all of Sophie’s clothes were not only well worn but were also very stained and none were suited for Winter. I couldn’t disagree but my first thoughts were selfish... how benevolent did we want to be? I’d put a lot of effort into Celia and her problems but, on the other hand, they hadn’t cost anything but time. But, we were still living on a tight budget and the kids were due for a nice Christmas. Elle pretty much knew what I was thinking so volunteered to bypass her own Christmas presents. What could I say to that but ”OK“.

To be continued...