Prohibition

Chapter 38

"May I get your attention, please?" Mr. Collins called, stepping up onto the musician's stage. "We have a very special event planned for tonight in honor of our goal, to raise as much money as we can for a worthy charity. What that charity will be, we have not decided yet. Throughout the rest of the evening, I will be talking to each of you and getting your opinion on which charity you think is most worthy of our funds. Then we will choose a lucky winner. First, however, we must raise these funds. Tonight, we will be doing that by means of a "date auction." As you may have noticed, all the women present tonight have vanished. They are currently waiting in another room to be auctioned off as dates to you gentlemen."

At this announcement, excited murmurs and laughter rippled around the room. All around Raymond, the male party guests discussed, with much laughter and joking, which women they wanted to bid on.

"Please," Mr. Collins called, raising his hands for silence. "Feel free to bid on any woman you want—whether she was your date tonight or not. Watch out for you wives, gentlemen," he warned as laughter rippled around the room once more. "By the end of the night, she may have decided to run off with some young whippersnapper. And please," he finished, "be generous. This is for charity, after all. Now, we'll start with Mrs. Dewitt..."

As the bidding began, Raymond could feel his heart pounding frantically in his throat. His palms had become slick with sweat once more, and, once again, he wiped them on his pants in a futile attempt to calm himself. Was Evelyn part of this auction? If so, who would get her? Everyone would probably bid on her; he knew that. But who would she end up with? It would be selfish and presumptuous to bid on her. But what if Charlie bid on her instead?

"Are you Helen's date?" a tall young man standing beside Raymond asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.

"Yes."

"Will you please not bid on her?"

"Why?"

"I'm an old friend of hers." The man's face flushed. "I'd like to be able to spend the night with her."

"You know she's engaged," Raymond said, smiling slightly.

"To you?"

"No, to a fella named Roy. He's not here tonight."

"Oh well." The man shrugged good-naturedly. "At least I'll get her one more time. That is—you won't bid on her, will you?" he asked anxiously. "I only have fifty bucks."

"She's all yours." Raymond forced another smile. "Have fun." The young man could've beat him if they had bid against each other—he only had thirty-five dollars in his pocket. Still, there was no need to fight him. And he might need that money for later.

"Thanks." The young man moved away and, in a few minutes, had successfully bid on Helen.

The auction crawled by. With each passing minute, Raymond grew more and more nervous. With each woman that left the stage, his heart pounded more and more frantically, and his stomach churned even more nauseatingly. Several times, he was sure he would go mad from just standing there waiting for something to happen.

Finally, after auctioning off a Mrs. Dorman, Mr. Collins announced, "And now, our final lady: my very own daughter Evelyn." Raymond watched as Evelyn stepped onto the stage, her face white. "I never anticipated giving her away like this," Mr. Collins continued, and chuckles ran through the room, "but there you have it. Please, gentlemen, be good to her. Let's start the bidding at five dollars. Do I hear five dollars..." 

***

Evelyn felt as though she were standing at the executioner's block. Her head ached, and she could hardly hear her father's voice through the ringing in her ears. Her whole body shook. Before her, lay a sea of faces, but only two stood out: Raymond's face, gaunt and worried, and Charlie's face, a malicious smile playing about his lips.