“Wow, guns,” I heard the little boy say loudly in the uninhibited way of children. I was close by, sifting through some items in the box lots during a preview for an upcoming auction.
I glanced up and saw the top of the head of a boy who appeared to be about 5 or 6 holding an item in his hand. It was too small to be a gun, and when I looked closer I saw what it was. His “guns” were actually a set of gold-plated cuff links and tie clip still in its cushiony case in a box containing old medals, watches and ball-point pins. He was there with his father, who was more taken with the medals.
I returned to my rummaging but kept my ears on the boy, who shouted his excitement repeatedly when certain things delighted him. This was my first trip to the auction house in South Jersey. My auction buddy Janet had suggested that we check out its auction on the day before Memorial Day, and I was game. She had other plans so I drove to the preview the day before on my own.
I always like to get to a place before the auction starts to see what’s there. It gives me a chance to take my time, handle the items, open boxes, look under tables, carefully go through stuff. Even then, I miss things (like those two dolls at the actual auction a day later).
On this day, though, I was caught up in the little boy’s discoveries and his reaction to them. A lot of stuff intrigued him (just like me at auctions), but he telegraphed his joy so all could hear.
The boy was like the proverbial kid in a candy store, spontaneous in expressing his awe, unbridled in the touching and feeling of things. He wasn’t buying any sugary treats but he was just as fascinated with what he saw. And his dad was very indulgent – allowing him to handle the items and express himself freely as the boy came upon things he recognized and those he didn’t. Dad was allowing him to explore.
Children can so easily show their enthusiasm. It never occurred to him that he was too loud or too talkative, or that he could be disturbing other people. (He didn’t disturb me; I found him entertaining). As adults, though, we know the decorum: When I come across neat things on the auction table, I’ll mention it quietly to the auction-goer next to me or to Janet. I could not imagine squealing it so loud for anyone else to hear.
The boy, though, couldn’t contain his joy. He went from first one item and then another with his Wows and boundless wonder.
He spotted some sun-bleached cow skulls laid out on a sofa, their eye sockets and nostrils hollow holes. I think he just found them interesting to look at because I’m sure he didn’t happen to remember them from old movies and TV westerns.
Next to them were large round brass discs. Look at the cymbals, he told his father. So you know what they are, dad said. They were actually Chinese chargers, about 15 inches in diameter, with Chinese characters etched in the center. I could understand the confusion; I always come across items at auction that befuddle me. It happens to all of us regulars, so we guess a lot.
Finally, he found a box containing fire trucks and other toys. Another outburst. Those kept him busy for awhile. Dad was more interested in a small child’s iron in a box of metal items next to the toy box.
Soon, mom and another child walked up. Don’t touch those, she said to the little boy each time he picked up something among the lots. The free-for-all was over; mom was teaching him discipline. Even old, I’m sure she figured, this was other people’s stuff and he had to respect it.
Many auction houses don’t allow children (unless they’re with adults). One of my favorite auction houses has a sign outside its door prohibiting children, but no one bothers to heed it. Many times we hear and see children racing all through the place. Unlike this little boy who was fascinated by what he saw on the tables and not by the open aisles that were a bit narrow but invited running nonetheless.
Once mom arrived, the party was over, and I heard very little from the boy. The family soon left and I got back to my own exploring. It was quiet now, but I missed his Wows.
