Inch worm, inch worm

The car pulled up in front of a row of curious little shops. Bill set the brake and looked over at Jen, his eyes wide—anticipating his forthcoming meeting.”I’ll be as fast as I can” he said.

“No worries. Take as long as you need” she gave him a smile—full and reassuring—kissing his cheek.”I’ll be right here.” She sensed this appointment had him on edge. He was meeting with Citibank’s VP, Joe Nelson a guy he knew briefly in high school. He was asking for a loan to buy a 27’ Regal 2000 fishing boat. He wanted to start a fishing business catering to high end business men and regular tourists. The Army was moving his buddy Jack overseas and he had to sell it. He was only asking $9,000. “Keep your fingers crossed” he smiled back giving her a thumbs up and headed for the bank.

Jen couldn’t help notice what a georgeous day it was. Outside the streets were teaming with strollers, checking out the quaint shops, it intrigued her. The sidewalk planter she was parked next to was spilling over with Marigolds, it caught her eye and instantly she started humming an old tune from Disney’s movie about Hans Christian Andersen. Singing the words to herself, “Inchworm, inchworm, measuring the Marigolds, seems to me you’d stop and see how beautiful they are.” An appropriate song noticing the empty expressions on throngs of wanders moving about aimlessly. “Most people are too busy measuring time to see the extraordinary things going on around them.”

Jen thought about buying some fresh flowers for their apartment, to cheer it up a little. She looked in the glove box for a paper and pen to write a note saying she’d be right back, she decided to join the promenade and go window shopping, hoping to find a florist in one of the shops.

She opened the car door and stepped onto the pavement, it felt like the heat from the sidewalk was challenging the sun to a duel. The thermometer on a building read 101*. After passing a cafe and furniture store—She noticed a shady tree-lined side street with more stores and got off the main drag. One of the shops caught her attention. It was a strange hole-in-the-wall boutique decked out in a jungle motif. A female mannequin outfitted in safari costume standing over a life-sized plush lion. This was today’s women, slick and determined—legs parted in defiance displaying her newly discovered power over the defenseless stuffed beast.

Interesting look, trying to imagine herself dressed so bold and assertive. Clothes like that could really add to a girls confidence. She swung open the double glass doors into a blast of cool air. “Ah what a relief” she blurted out to anyone listening. The jungle decor continued throughout the store, the artist in her stared in amazement. Someone really had a ball decorating and painting the room, not a single detail was left in done or halfway.

Once inside she noticed the clientele was even stranger than the mannequin or decor. Two females or maybe only one female for certain. Their haircuts and boho clothing made it difficult to tell. The one with a magenta wedge cut stared at her as if she were a freak from a world of judgmental Karen types. It disturbed her hippie-loving heart. “I’m not a freak, you’re a freak” She wanted to shout but instead said. “Nice earrings.” Her/his look softened, she/he lifted their hand to feel which ones Jen complimented “Thanks, I make them, there’s more at the counter, if you’re interested.”

“Great, they’re so unique, I’ll check them out.” Jen concluded from the depth of his voice he was indeed male and in spite of his look, with a handsomeness and virility found most often in Latin men. His companion, on the other hand, noticing the spark between them, made her presence obvious by holding a see-thru blouse in front of his face blocking their view. Flipping her shock of white hair so close to Jens nose she got a hefty whiff of patchouli oil, Jen got the impression it was her influence behind their weird offbeat appearances.

She took the hint and moved to a rack of khaki jackets looking for the one in the window, they were hanging from a looping tree vine, no doubt a prop purloined from some TV jungle movie. The whole ambiance was like a Disney movie set. She expected the Rock—Big Dwayne to swing in from a helicopter and grab her up in his mighty arms and rescue her from the evil white-haired demon.

She found the jacket in her size and searched for the matching khaki pants. Combined with the sheer jungle print blouse it was a pretty classy look. She found them hanging next to the dressing room. Which was hidden behind a shrub attached to the door, making it disappear unnoticed. She brushed aside the velour boa constrictor hanging from a manzanita branch. Apparently the only protection needed from intruders, she slipped inside behind the bush—It was surprisingly roomy with a simple clean design which was a relief from the smothering jungle motif.

The outfit seemed to fit, she loved the blouse, a sexy juxtaposition to the severity of the jacket and skinny ankle length cargo pants, all she needed was a pair of black Stilettos and heads would turn. She went in search of a full length mirror. A soft guttural voice asked if she needed help to shout. Jen called out “I’m looking for the mirror.” The voice replied “Oh it’s behind the beaded curtain” turn right at the waterfall and look for a gorilla, his name is max, he’s harmless.”

“Harmless? Thanks,” she said looking for the owner of the voice. Standing behind a glass jewelry counter, in all his stunning glory stood a bronze, muscular Tarzan about 23 years old and proudly gay. His bare chest, covered in a necklace of plastic teeth, a replica of Saber Tooth Tiger fangs. He was clad only in a patch of faux leopard- skin loin cloth, barely covering his loin. She tightened her lips to keep an obviously outrageous giggle from escaping.

Plastic teeth decorated his barefooted ankle, his body was moving to the beat of the jungle drum music of some African Indie group. He was artistically arranging necklaces made from bone and beads, right next to the handmade earrings of the magenta haired Latin dude. Now gone, I guess Whitey didn’t want him to see me in this outfit. Laughing to herself admiring the attractive display. Tarzan obviously had a a knack for design.

He turned to look at Jen, put his hand over his mouth in astonished surprise. “You look spectacular!” He practically shrieked. “Fantastic, darling, come look at yourself.” He lead her through the wooden bead curtain. The waterfall mural was stunning, clearly this was an artists’ dream realized. “What a fabulous mural” she said. “Yes, this is our local mural maven, Leslie Greenetz, I was lucky to have her consent to painting the backgrounds in the store. Isn’t it amazing? Her work is all over Yuba City’s buildings.

In the corner, peeking out from overflowing artificial vines and exotic flora, a full length mirror was held up by the most unconvincing papier-mâché Gorilla. A malformed snarling mutant. Jen’s eyes shot wide open. Unable to hold it in a second more she spontaneously released a high-pitched guffaw so loud it no doubt aroused all the other fake animals ken to blush.

“I’m Sorry” she said. He shook his head saying “Don’t worry, Max is used to it, he’s a good boy” patting his misshapen arm, “aren’t you Max.” Jen wasn’t sure if she was captive in a loony bin. Then she saw her reflection, she gasped, her mouth flew open. “What did I tell you? Spectacular Right? The look was made for you.” She had to agree with him, she felt pretty sensational.

She affectionately patted Max’s elbow, or what might have been an elbow, and handed over her credit card. “I’ll take it, I love it.” Tarzan was doing a derivative belly dance, to the jungle beat still playing, he was having the best time—so was she—it’s been a while since I’ve felt so alive she thought. Tarzan disappeared and reappeared from behind a rubber tree plant, carrying the perfect necklace, a combination of Austrian Crystal and semi precious colored beads.

“Gorgeous” she said. Just for fun he draped a toy rifle over her shoulder. She automatically assumed the stance of the mannequin. Surprised at herself and laughing so hard she didn’t notice Bill peeking in the window searching for her. He rapped on the window waving for her to come out. “Bill, Bill in here” waving her arm for him to come in. He took one look at the bronze half naked Tarzan and Jen laughing having a good time while he was bursting to tell her the news. The bank gave him the money. She sensed his annoyance and opened the door to get him to come inside and cool off.

Tarzan took a frosty bottle of Arizona Iced Tea from a mini fridge under the counter and handed to Bill. He was soaked with sweat, he looked like a rag doll rescued from a gutter. After a long swallow he thanked Tarzan with a curious side glance that revealed his enigmatic mood.

Playfully Jen twirled around asking him how he liked the new look. His eyes got wide again, he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “It’s different.” Not convinced he wanted his wife looking like a slick African head hunter. “Uh, it’s attractive but who are you trying to snare with it?” She stopped twirling and looked at Tarzan for confirmation.

“Well, I think it’s grand and she’ll catch admiration from anyone who sees her in it.” Bill set the empty bottle on the counter nodding his head with a “Thanks” he loved her so much she could be wrapped in a beach towel and be admired. He took her hand and twirled her around to see the back. “I like it.”

Tarzan clapped his hands enjoying their bond and gave her a jungle logo bag of her own clothes, her credit card and the receipt. Bill instead took it. “A hundred and thirty-two dollars??” She snapped it away and taking his arm led him out the door throwing Tarzan a grateful kiss.

“Just one more stop and you can tell me how your meeting went.” They entered the florist shop and Jen bought the biggest and brightest bunch of Marigolds they had. She wanted something to commemorate the adventurous day she‘d just spent measuring her beautiful experience.

The happy end.