Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Elmer's Last Gift


Yesterday afternoon a sudden flash of memory sent me flying down the stairs to the basement closet (climate-controlled) where I had stashed several boxes of books. It’s been a long time since I’d looked at them and I hadn’t a clue what they were, or even why they were there. But seemingly out of nowhere I realized that I had been stacking rolls of bubble wrap on top of them for at least a couple years. I just got a bubble wrap shipment in late last week and had put it in the closet on the boxes, so the sight of them must have somehow tickled my subconscious. Anyway, I unloaded the wrap, dragged them out, and took a sentimental journey by myself on the floor in front of the clothes dryer.

The minute I opened the first box I knew they’d come from Elmer.Of all the book buys we have ever made, or will make in the future, no one will ever top Elmer for sheer quantity – 35,000 books. Three years ago Elmer died and his niece called to see if we were interested in buying “lots of books.” As I’ve mentioned before, lots is a word that can mean anything, but even my wildest imagination couldn’t have conjured up a double storage unit crammed, piled, heaped, and mounded with boxes of books to the ceiling, plus a similarly full garage back at the house. It took an excess of twenty trips in our store cube van to retrieve them all and even with that Eric had to drive like the Little Old Lady From Pasadena, as we were over capacity every time.

Elmer was nothing if not an eclectic collector, but he did favor a few categories, the most prominent being Asian art, rocks and minerals, and aviation -- especially aviation. For at least a year I was Queen of the Air on ebay and barely chalked up a single female customer during my reign. But though Elmer was big on quantity, the quality of his stash zoomed all over the map. A single box could contain 20 soft cover aviation series titles published by Aero or Schiffer,a stack of dubious movie related titles he’d bought at Half-Price Books -- and buried at the bottom a rare book on Arabian archery. Every evening that spring and summer Eric and I went on a treasure hunt that led us through bleak deserts, over breathtaking mountains, and under unfathomable seas. There were nights when I could have wept from frustration and fatigue and nights when I whispered fervent thank yous to Elmer across time and space.

When we bought the books we had no idea who Elmer was, only that he was the seller’s elderly uncle. But one sweltering hot evening in the garage I opened a book and an envelope fluttered to the ground. It was addressed to Elmer . Instantly my mind flashed a picture of a small old man sitting on a park bench in front of the library on a snowy Saturday morning with his girlfriend waiting for the book sale to begin. His arm encompassed her shoulders as they huddled close to share the Cleveland Plain Dealer.

“You’re not going to believe this,” I said to Eric. “But these books are Elmer’s. Our Elmer’s.”

It’s not that we had ever talked to him at great length – Elmer wasn’t a big talker – but he was ours nonetheless as all the old regulars at sales are. How strange that we had custody of his books without even realizing it. After that the timbre of our relationship with the books changed. I still got tired and frustrated sometimes, but in a much more benevolent way.

“Elmer, WHAT were you thinking?” I’d say out loud. Or “Good job, Elmer! Way to go! YAY Elmer!”

And now Elmer is back with one final gift. There are only a couple books here that have signifcant monetary value, but there are also some oddities that are anybody’s guess. I laughed right out loud when I saw them because oddities are the thing that most binds me to Elmer. He loved them. I love them. Stay tuned and next time I’ll share one I just found.

Meanwhile,thanks again Elmer. It's been a trip.

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