Wednesday, January 5, 2022

I am the Doorknob

 

I am the glass doorknob.  I currently reside inside this wooden crate, along with a variety of lessor knobs, and handles.  During my day, I sparkled and opened a door that only a privileged few could enter.  Never, however, did any stranger grab me.  It was always just William, the doorman.  William and I go back years.  Boy, the stories I could tell you.

Now, resting quietly within this antique shop, I seem unimportant, common.  I have been tossed aside with no more value than a picket fence without a yard.  Most of the items here in the shop aren’t impressed when I mention who I let enter.  I guess that isn’t so important anymore. 


I know that table lamp over there thinks she’s hot stuff.  She came in with those end tables and that pedestal ashtray.  Personally, I don’t care for the fringe around her shade.  It’s just a little gaudy if you ask me.  She thinks she’s so bright.  A bit of a smart aleck, I’d say.

I don’t think anyone has ever heard a peep from the ashtray.  He just stands there, not even looking around.  He seems so sad.  Maybe ashamed of what he is, of what he stood for all those years.  Surrounded by thick clouds of smoke, covered in ash… what’s there to be proud of?  I’d be willing to bet, however, that he’s heard some juicy gossip, back-room deals, maybe even government secrets.  I don’t see anyone buying him anytime soon.




I hear customers sometimes saying there is a musty smell in here.  I, of course, can’t smell anything, but based on the age of this store, it probably does have some kind of odor.  I’ve never seen anyone mopping the floor.  They are old, wooden floors, that squeak under the weight of the people walking around.  The windows are never opened.  I doubt the owner has ever considered letting some fresh air in here.  Boy, wouldn’t that be nice.  Fresh air and sunlight, even for just an hour.  How nice would that be?

Well, I see little Mrs. Snooty lamp has been marked down.  I wonder what kind of spin she’ll put on that.

Hey!  That large painting is gone.  That’s a shame, I liked that picture.  It always reminded me of something…  I forget what, but I always got a good feeling looking at it. The colors were warm and inviting, and it always looked so familiar.  I can almost think of what it reminded me of.  Nuts, that’s going to fester.  What was that?

The little bell over the front door just tinkled.  Someone is coming in.  Maybe someone looking for a glass doorknob.  Who knows?  Never mind. I’m not holding my breath.

Saturday – a week ago, just after closing, the pedestal ashtray spoke to us.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t been very friendly.”  No one else said anything, but Mrs. Snooty lamp clicked her light on.

 “Actually, until now, I didn’t really know if I should say anything or not.”

Still, no one else spoke.

“I used to be in a private club.  Only members were allowed in.  It really was very exclusive.  The thing is, I was always in a position to see things, and especially to hear things.  I always knew what was going on, who was in favor, who owed money to whom, and so on”.

Everything in the old antique shop was listening.  This was amazing.  The ashtray was spilling his guts.  Of course, none of us knew why all of a sudden he decided to talk, but that didn’t matter.  Everyone was hanging on every word.

“From what I can tell, it all started with a Lotto ticket.  As best as I can tell, it was folded in with a twenty-dollar bill that was handed to the doorman as a tip.

William, the doorman noticed it right away and tried to hand it back to the gentleman who had handed it to him, but the man refused to take it back.  William ended up getting 11 million from the state lotto commission.”

I couldn’t help it, I had to speak up.  “I knew William.  I was the glass doorknob he used for all those years.”

“Then you must have missed him.  He was in here the other week and bought the painting that was hanging on that wall over there.”

It was then I suddenly remembered where I had seen that painting before.  It had hung in the club for years.




to be continued

 

 

 

 

 

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