Bill

“What is it?” Titus asked. ###
Ptolemy looked closely at the object Titus held. “It doesn’t appear to be much of anything, although – clearly – it was supposed to have been,” he said. ###
Titus held the object at arm’s length and then, unsatisfied, removed his glasses and brought it close to his eyes. It was small, the size of half a stick of butter, a wooden block with a lid that swung open like the blade of a pocket knife. It hid nothing. ###
“What do you mean by that?” Titus asked. ###
“Well, it’s clearly not a random assemblage of pieces. They all fit together to well. It was clearly made with care,” Ptolemy said. “And yet, it seems unfinished to me. It’s barely a thing at all.” ###
“Well, obviously it’s a thing,” Titus said. ###
“Yes, but it’s barely a thing. It’s more than nothing, but less than something. If it were less than it is, it would be a thing. If it had no moving parts or hardware, it would be simply a block of wood, which is, clearly, a thing. If it were more than it is, it would also be a thing. For instance, if it had a small compartment under the lid, it would be, perhaps, a pill box. As it is now, though, one doesn’t know what to call it. In fact, the more likely a person is to use the word “thing” to describe something, the less of a thing it actually is. I find the tension unbearable.” ###
“Tension?” ###
“Look at the way it’s worn. How many people have handled it? This thing – there’s that word – has been around a long time, waiting to be something. Maybe decades. It’s crying out to be finished. To be something, not just barely a thing.” ###
“’Crying out?’ Isn’t that a little heavy handed?” Titus asked. ###
“It’s making nervous. C’mon. Let’s go.” Ptolemy grabbed the object from Titus and went to the register. ###
“How much for this?” he asked as he showed it to the clerk. ###
The clerk looked up and glanced at the object. “One dollar,” he said. ###
“Here,” Ptolemy said as he handed the clerk a dollar and turned for the door. ###
They turned right on the sidewalk and headed north toward Ptolemy’s studio. “I find it irritating that this thing only costs a dollar. It seems disrespectful,” Ptolemy said. ###
“I don’t think its feelings were hurt,” Titus said. ###
Minutes later, they arrived at the studio, and Ptolemy walked directly to the drill press. He inserted a 1” forstner bit into the chuck and tightened it. He placed the object in the vise, swung open the lid, and carefully centered the bit over the lower section of wood. He turned on the drill press and lowered the bit, creating a neat, 1” pocket – about ½” deep – that would be hidden when the lid was closed. He turned off the drill, retrieved the object from the vise, and left through the front door, on his way back to the thrift store. ###
“C’mon,” he said. Titus followed. ###
At the store, Ptolemy went to the back shelf where he had found the object earlier. He turned to look at the counter. The clerk from whom he had purchased the item was still there. ###
“Let’s wait a few minutes,” he said to Titus. ###
“OK.” ###
They leaned against the shelf, hands in pockets. About ten minutes later, the clerk was replaced by another. ###
“Alright, let’s go,” Ptolemy said. ###
“How much for this pillbox,” Ptolemy asked the new clerk. ###
The clerk took it from Ptolemy, swung the lid open to see the hole beneath it. “Three dollars,” he said. ###
Ptolemy smiled at the clerk and gave him three dollars. They left the store.