"Ole man" Guernsey Brown and Elmer Klopenstien leaned their thin, bonny, wrinkled bodies against the marble wall of the bank lobby. They were at all the auctions, public bids, council meetings, and livestock judgings.
Sheriff Conrad Krotzer was poised with arms folded, pistol in holster, and cap pulled just two fingers above his nose. He stood next to a glass-top table like a sentinel at the tomb of the unknown soldier. It wasn't necessary for him to be present. He liked looking authoritative and important without the conflict, besides it was an election year.
Mildred Hixenbaugh, Fike's secretary and head cashier, was standing on the other side of the table with arms folded across her breasts as if she were about to receive a crown at a beauty pageant. Fike stood between them behind the table with two envelopes. He was nervously watching the big hand of the clock struggle its way to the top.
A few of the boys from the Rainy Day were there; Willis Brandt, Burkhardt, Hooker, Whitey Shantz, and Goose Deitz. Fuzzy walked like a penguin, fitful and talkative, cracking not-so-funny jokes. They laughed as if it were the first time they heard them. It was a laugh of pity mixed with flattery.
Rudy stood in front of the main door rocking from heel to toe. He wore an easy smile and a twinkle in his eye. Occasionally Fuzzy glanced Rudy's way to see if he was as amused as the others. He was not.
At nine o’clock, Fike cleared his throat and the room hushed. The pendulum of the clock hypnotically swayed slowly rationing each second. The only other sound was the gentle, slow, rhythm of the ceiling fans circulating the stagnant bank air laden with the odor of varnished wood and old money.
"Whatsamatter Fike, Frog in yer throat," Fuzzy said not so much for a laugh as it was to ease the tension.
The others politely laughed with just enough vigor to hide their pity. Krotzer laughed more than the others, after all, it was an election year.
"We have two bids for the Holinger property,” Fike announced like a town crier.
Spectators began to murmur. Fuzzy was motionless, sober, even paralyzed. He glared at Rudy. In unison, everyone looked at Rudy. Rudy smiled. Fuzzy scowled.
Fike once again cleared his throat but this time to gain attention. "As was stated in the public notice a bid of no less than $200,000 will not be accepted. If none is equal to or greater than that amount the bank will assume ownership until a qualified buyer can be found.”
Fike struggled to open the first envelope and Fuzzy paced the floor with his head tilted down.
The Rainy Day crowd patted him on the back and gave words of encouragement.
"Lotsa luck, Fuzzy."
"Go gettum."
"Hope ya get 'er."
Each tried to be more sincere than the other, but in actuality, none cared except for the fact it made something to talk about over a beer.
Fike studied the contents and announced, “The first bid is a qualifying bid from Mr. Gerhert, who is present, for $200,001.”
"Good bid."
"Way ta go Fuzzy."
"Looks like ya got yerself another three hundred.”
Fuzzy proudly and confidently accepted the congratulations with some degree of false humility, bobbing his head like a floating cork and smiling like a mayor in a Fourth of July parade.
The last two farms he had purchased by bid were likewise one dollar over the minimum requirement. It was not so much shrewdness on his part as it was fear on the part of others.
The smile slowly drifted from his mouth like a flag being lowered. Fike ripped open the remaining envelope and pulled the bid from it. All eyes were fixed on Rudy, certain he was the other bidder. Rudy's smile and expression of contentment remained on his face. It was the same expression he had from the moment he left home.
Fike again cleared his throat. No one turned toward him except for Fuzzy. He announced, "The next bid is from a Mr. Samuel Schnieder of Muncie, Indiana. His bid is a qualifying one." It was as if he did not want to say anything other than, "The farm goes to Fuzzy," but he was trapped. Then everyone in unison like drill guards looked at him as if he was about to announce the day the world was to end. "He has submitted a bid of $200,001----and one cent. That is the highest bid and it goes to Mr. Ah, ah, Schneider.”
Everyone was aghast. Fuzzy lost the bid by one penny. He was like a caged animal. He was outraged.
"Hold on a minute," Fuzzy blurted in desperation and waving his arms. "I got an approved loan on the property. This guy from Muncie ain't even here. We don’t even know who this guy is. I got the money ta back my bid. Ya know I do, Fike, 'cause I got the loan from you."
He sounded like a pathetic child unwilling to let others have their way. He puffed out his chest and looked over his shoulder for the approval of the boys from the Rainy Day. He even looked to Rudy for support, wanted the property so badly.
Fike closed his eyes slowly as if a strict teacher who had heard and seen enough and about to utter a sacred pronouncement of condemnation and wanted no interference. "Misssterrr Schnieieiederrr has enclosed a certified check for the amount of his bid. The transaction is closed.”
Fuzzy whirled as if a spinning bottle scanning the room for support, but the Rainy Day boys were speechless. They were unable to come to the aid of the man who on many occasions preserved their sanctuary from the pollution of unwanted outsiders.
Mildred stood dutifully by Fike's side with a plastered smile.
Krotzer grabbed the check, not having any idea what he was investigating. He said authoritatively, "It looks pretty official ta me."
Fuzzy turned and bullishly snorted his way towards the door. With a short stroke, he cuffed the shoulder of Rudy and easily thrust him aside. In a bluster, he drove away in his pick-up to the Rainy Day throwing stones and leaving a cloud of dust.
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