collection

The buzz had softly seeped through to him in a time of need. In a time of personal crises he had heard the rumor from a South African acquaintance, a man of varied abilities and employs, that he himself employed 2 months out of the year as a bush pilot. He was a hard man, no other way to describe it really, thick lips that bent upward into a grimace of a smile. Steel wool of blond stubble patched his head. They were sitting on the patio of the Villa, he was drinking an orange juice, the pilot a glass of water. His orange juice was different, he used many more oranges per glass than most. The orange juice marketed at the supermarket as "heavy" pulp level, or "grovestand," was about half the pulp he liked in a glass. The pilot took a large mouthful of water and took 3 heavy swallows, watching the surface tensions of the droplets on the outside of the sweating glass. None of them broke. "It's a diamond, of course," he said, deadlocking him with eye contact. "Big one. They say it might be pink." He considered this, looking down at the marble tile of the patio. "Pink diamond," he let it float into the air, away on a current. The buzz grew much stronger as time passed, as well as the hype. One of the biggest diamonds ever, let alone pink diamonds, had been discovered deep in a mine in Nigeria, and brought to de Beers to be cut by the best in the world. He tried to gain information, paying for knowledge from those close to the industry and directing those in his employ to redirect their courses. Then today they announced it, by far the largest pink diamond ever found, weeping edges, not much cutting even needed. He reached for his phone and typed a quick message. Had to happen day of the auction, he thought. He strode into the Villa, hanging his robe as he went. Getting dressed and to the plane brought the usual clearheadedness and total awareness of surroundings. He was fully alert, with energy and poise. He sat in the leather, buckled his seat belt and checked his phone. The price estimates were at $25 million and rising. His sources were saying there were many interested parties. Many. This was somewhat surprising to him at this point in history, but he remained prepared, he reassured himself. He leaned back in the seat, hair rustling against the headrest. When the plane landed, he disembarked to a few people waiting for him. He didn't tell them about the diamond, didn't ask whether they'd heard about it or not, didn't check his phone. He had people he trusted with more than his life at work on this, and they understood what he wanted them to do. They walked over the tarmac, talking lightly, and he climbed into Bernard Madoff's former main limo after opening the front passenger door for the woman who had met the plane on the tarmac. "So what's your main item at this auction, man?" Jeff smiled and leaned foreword, "What'r you here for?"
"I'm buying J.D Salinger's Toilet."