“I simply must have it,” Ellen thought to herself as she scribbled her name on the next blank line on the sheet of paper sitting next to the large oil painting. Her eyes darted from person to person in the crowded room where the silent auction was being held, checking to see if anyone had seen her pencil in her name. “No one!” She glanced back at the painting and fell into an admiring trance. She saw something in the painting, something almost magical.
Ellen hesitated between standing guard over the painting or milling with the rest of the crowd. Standing guard would guarantee that she could always increase her bid if someone else came along and tried to buy it. But on the other hand, her standing sentinel might attract attention to the painting, and what if so many people bid that she could no longer afford the painting? She stood still, wringing her hands in confusion.
Ellen’s quick-moving eyes fell upon a woman across the room. She admired her neat black dress and her lacquered red fingernails as she watched her pop something to eat into her mouth. “Why would such a beautiful woman be looking over here?” Ellen thought. A million ideas crossed her mind. “Could it be this new dress?” Ellen tugged at one of the sleeves, pulling out a wrinkle in the tulip-printed fabric. She patted her hair, wondering if the woman was appreciating the dye job she had done the evening before or the floppy blue bow she had pinned to her hair.
Ellen moved closer to the oil painting as she watched the woman in the black dress march across the room. “She’s heading right over here!” Ellen panicked, dropping her purse to the floor as she moved in front of the painting to hide it from the sophisticated woman. “Of course she would see my painting - it must look even more beautiful from afar.” Ellen didn’t want to pick up her purse, for fear of giving the woman clear, unblocked sight of the piece. She kicked her purse under the table and reminded herself not to forget it when it was time to leave. She glanced behind her at the painting, gazed lovingly at its gigantic pink and white peony blooms, and whipped back around to face the approaching woman. Ellen crossed her arms and knew that confrontation was upon her.
Shaking now, Ellen clutched the table where her oil painting was displayed. Any time the woman in black moved her head or refocused her eyes, Ellen tried to block her view from the painting. But this woman was insistent, and finally Ellen felt defeated. “If I am going to lose the painting, I might as well know right away, so that I can at least gethome early,” she thought to herself.
Ellen peeked around the bald head of the man who stood in front of her, horribly afraid of what she might see. “Is that woman putting down her name for the painting? Has she put a price I couldn’t possibly match?” Ellen’s hands shook. She watched as the woman in black looked at the painting, and then back into the crowd. Ellen slipped back behind the bald man. “Why isn’t she writing down her name?” Ellen wondered. “Is there something wrong with the painting? Is it hideous?”
With a change of heart, Ellen marched up to the table and bumped into the woman with the fancy dress. “Excuse me,” Ellen said while she scratched her name off the bidding sheet next to the painting. “Who would want such an ugly thing?”