Weekend Write-In Story Collection

The Haggle

In 500 words, tell a story exploring just how far a character will go to get something for free. Written for the Weekend Write-In prompt themed "Freebie." 10-12 July 2015

This was in the summer of 1975 on our drive back to Europe from climbing in Afghanistan's Hindu Kush.

Learning to Haggle

"Fifty-five Thousand? That's far too much. I'll give you thirty."

"You insult me, Sir. You demean the work that it took to make this, the quality of the wool, the natural dyes. This is not a Turkoman, not a common Bukhara. This is not a factory piece. This is a hand knotted Baluchi. Fifty-two."

"Thirty-two."

"I can sell you one of these Turkmen rugs for that."

"I like the Baluchi. It's smaller than the others, why is it more expensive."

"Why do you like it?

"The wonderful soft colours, the sheen, the beautiful design..."

"That's why it's more expensive. Look here at the fineness of the knotting."

"But the others, the Herats the Bukharas, the Mashhads have even finer knotting."

"True, the Baluch rugs are usually a bit coarser, but this is an unusual finely-knotted example. Here, look at this other Baluchi, look at the coarser knotting. That is a more typical example. This one is much finer. Look. Forty-nine thousand."

David was standing in a dimly-lit, low-ceilinged room surrounded by piles of carpets in the centre of Mashad. This is the first one I've seen that I really like, he thought. Ralph bought two rugs, one in Kabul and one in Kandahar and Joe bought one in Herat. This could be my last chance.

He was with his two climbing companions, now on the third day of their drive back to France from an expedition in the Hindu Kush. He knew he was trying their patience with his pickiness and dithering as he searched for a rug. But I was patient with them as they went through the same process. I just hadn't found what I wanted until this, he thought as he ran his fingers through the nap of the Baluchi. Such a beautiful sheen, such a delightful play of colours.

He looked up at the merchant, knowing he had to make a deal. "Thirty-five."

"Forty-seven."

He looked at Ralph and Joe and shrugged. I really like the rug, but I feel I'm being taken, he thought as he looked at his watch, then fingered the rug again. "Forty."

"Forty-five."

He looked back at the rug, flipped the corner up again to examine the base. "You say this is all wool, not a mix of wool and cotton?"

"Yes, the Baluch were nomadic, many still are; they didn't have cotton and the tradition continues."

"And the dyes are all vegetable?"

"Yes, they still maintain that tradition also."

"Okay, forty-five thousand Rials."

"Thank you, Sir," the merchant said as he laid the rug on the table, looked around then headed to the back corner.

David counted notes from his fold and held them out as the merchant laid a small rug on top of the Baluchi and rolled them up together.

"What's that?"

"A gift, a freebie to teach you to haggle better," he said with a wry smile. "I had to give you more value for your generous offer."