The Single Sunflower

         The small bell gently tinkled as a giant-like figure ducked under the white panel door; he was instantly hit with an overwhelming floral scent that lingered in the air. His eyes were exposed to a spectrum of flowers in the colors of the rainbow from left to right. He stood there for a moment to admire his welcome before jolting himself from his momentary trance to carry out his mission. He decided to begin with the red flowers on the left side of the shop, and then work him way around the surprisingly small store. He lowered his upper body to inspect each individual bucket of plants for texture, scent, appearance, and health. The first bucket was full of several relaxed crimson Gerberas that hung their blossoming heads down to the ground. The majority of petals were healthy; but a couple looked thirsty and the stalks looked fragile and weak. That was not what he was looking for. He took out his golden pocket watch to check the time: 12.54pm. Placing it back in his pocket, he had a new reassurance of the ample time he had to complete his mission. The bucket next to the Gerberas contained a couple of Daffodils rocking back and forth in their steel-bucket from a nearby fan shaking its head is despair at the shop. The Daffodils sat joyfully despite their lack of numbers, yet they couldn’t disguise their browning cheeks or their withering arms. Again, that wasn’t what he was looking for. He stood upright almost knocking his head against the ceiling, he had that problem everywhere he went, and help his chin with a puzzled look on his face wondering if his instincts had bought him to the right place. No, they didn’t lead him to the other side of town for no reason; it had to be the place. He cleared his thoughts and continued his quest.
         As his search went on, the Florist was curiously watching his inspection of her flowers from behind her magazine. She frequently lowered her magazine to give her deep hazelnut eyes a millisecond to take in the stranger’s appearance. He must have been about seven foot tall (estimated because he was bent over most of the time) with a purple frizzy wig that matched the bluebells and a red nose as red as the roses. His washed-blue denim dungarees hung two sizes too big with different textiles of patchwork ranging from spots to stripes to swirls, along with blindingly yellow shoes that looked as though they had been ironed and pressed. He was a clown. She had heard about ‘The Most Spectacular Show on Earth coming to a Town near YOU!’ from its advert being flashed on her new plasma-screen television, but she never expected it to be her town! What surprised her most was that he had found his way from the circus-side of town to this side, with there being a good few miles between the two. He continued to analyze the flowers around him with a serious look on his face, which contradicted the smiley face make-up plastered on it. She continued to pretend reading her magazine but found it difficult as she could sense his presence hovering over her and her flowers. The longer he spent examining her flowers, the more the Florist feel guilty for not being able to provide him the perfect flower he was obviously looking for, which then made her feel as though her flowers weren’t good enough. Without warning she jolted up from her seat behind the counter, slammed her heels against the marble floor, turned her magazine upside down on the side  sot that she could finish reading the article on the ‘Top Ten ways to Drive your Man WILD!’ later, and hastily entered her indoor garden to his assistance.
         “Are you looking for anything in particular?” she asked with her well-trained cheek bones stretched across her face to show off her white sparkly teeth that matched his sparkling tie. As though he was snapped out of a trance, he jumped and replied.
         “No, I know what I’m looking for…thanks”. His tone was serious and one that the florist wasn’t expecting from such an expectedly cheery man.
         “Are you sure? If you tell me what it is you’re looking for I may be able to help you find it faster” she said trying to disguise her urge for him to leave, even if it meant losing a customer that she so desperately needed a sale from. Despite her business slowly wilting away, she was willing to loss this customer if it meant not having a clown in her store.
         “No really, I know what I’m looking for…thanks.”
         The Clown returned to his intense search like a lion slyly looking for its prey. She was left standing there with her Prada heels neatly sounding against her newly laid marble flooring taking her back behind the counter. Her echoing heels did not seem to bother him in the slightest. She tried to remind herself that ‘The Customer is Always Right’ but this customer had no right to be in her store as long as he had been. Behind him she could see the town people in the Square through her big window as they busily hurried from one place to another before they had to go back to a sullen office for the afternoon. Lunch hour was her busiest time of day; she would open her field of flowers to passers-by and let them seduce future customers with their irresistible scents. The customer’s nose would possess their bodies and lead them into the shop. The Florist would match her flower’s beauty with her own and that combination almost always made a sale. But not this lunch break because the Clown had taken up her whole store with his alarming and unique attire making everyone too uncomfortable to go near her door. Besides, judging from his mismatching threads practically keeping his whole attire from falling off, she guessed that his wages weren’t very high; peanuts probably. There was a flash of light darting into her eyes; it was coming from the old rusty pocket watch he kept checking. Not only was her store not good enough for him but it was now taking up his valuable time.
         “That’s it!” he abruptly burst out while she was wondering how a clown must be in bed. Without seeming too eager to find out what caused him to yell so spontaneously, she casually strolled over from behind the counter over to his lanky colorful backside.
         “There, that’s the one! Do you see it? Right in the corner – I’ll take it.”
         Before the Florist could tell him how much it would cost him, doubtful he could afford it, she followed the direction of his dirty fingernail to the single Sunflower standing alone being outshone by the blooming Lilies and the blossoming Coronations. She began to wonder why there was only one Sunflower in the bucket and suddenly began to feel sorry for it; its name was deceptive to its appearance that day as it looked full of woe with its head hanging gloomily over the edge of the stainless-steel bucket.
         “Oh, that’ll be $2.50. Would you like it gift wrapped?”
         “I knew I’d find the perfect one. I just knew I didn’t come all the way out here for nothing. Didn’t I say I knew what I was looking for? Phew, I was getting worried that I wouldn’t find it, but I did!” he muttered under his breath to himself unaware of the florist’s ticking patience counting down rapidly with each of his pointless mutters.
         “I said, would you like it gift wrapped…sir?”. She added ‘sir’ at the end of her question to disguise her initially demanding tone. ‘Sir’ was a result of the manners that were constantly enforced on her as a young child. ‘Sir and Madam will cost you nothing and get you far in life’ her mother would tell her. The Florist was not expecting to have her mother’s voice speak in her thoughts after fifteen years of repressing those hurtful memories. Nevertheless she didn’t let this slight emotional set back interfere with business; realistically she needed a sale even if it was from a Clown.
         “Well don’t just stand there, I need this gift wrapped. It’s for someone special” he said with a sudden burst of excitement in his tone from the previously intimidating one.
         The florist snatched the single Sunflower out of its sullen bucket into a world of glitz and glamour. Once it was dressed up and the cash register had digested a filling $2.50, the Florist could not help herself.
         “Excuse me, sir, but what made you choose this particular flower? That is if you don’t mind me asking.” She suddenly regretted asking the moment those words passed her lips, worried that the Clown would go back to his harsher tone.
         “I’m glad you asked” he said in a way that made the Florist feel more comfortable in his company. “The Sunflower is the most cheerful flower there is, I mean where do you think it gets its name from? I don’t know anyone who can’t be cheered up by one and be mesmerized by its beauty and smile.”
         “I’m like that with all my flowers here” she said proudly.
         “See! It’s like looking into an elephant’s face when it knows it performed well in the show that evening. I’m guessing you can tell my profession from my dress.” He looks down at himself and then continued. “It’s not all laughs and jokes all the time ya know.”
         “I’m Bernie by the way” he added.
         “Isn’t it then? I mean, no offense, but I assumed that a life of throwing cream-pies at people and spraying water from a plastic flower on your chest was what clowns loved to do.” She began to gain confidence and feel more and more comfortable as their conversation went on.
         “I’m Laura by the way” she added.
         “Pleasure to meet you, Laura. Trust me I never intended on clowning around all my life, excuse the pun, but what else can a young kid do when his parents and sister were murdered by the big brother you looked up to and ‘The Most Spectacular Show on Earth’ was in town?” Laura did not expect such a deep confession from him and almost wanted to laugh to fill the awkwardness she felt from his openness; what surprised her most was how he announced it so casually, as though he was talking about what he had for breakfast. The suspended silence was eventually broken by the cry from children happily playing outside in the Square.
         “Wow. I’m so sorry” she eventually conjured up as her response.
         “No need to be; it was over thirty years ago.”
         “Even though I don’t know what that must have been like, I do know what’s it’s like to be an orphan too. And if the circus was in town when they died I would have run away in a heartbeat.” Only once she had heard the words leave her mouth did she realize what she was saying; she was talking to a complete stranger about her dead parents, a topic she hadn’t talked about since it happened all those years ago. Her eyes began to glisten over with tears and gradually accumulated more water, much like the dew found on grass in the early hours of the morning. Clutching his Sunflower, Bernie continued.
         “So for the past thirty years I have been travelling all over the country making people laugh and smile, a big difference from stitching wounds and healing the sick. Isn’t it ironic that I got the letter of acceptance to Medical School the morning Steve, my brother, turned on the family? It wasn’t the end of the world, I had the elephants, monkeys, lions and bears to look after me when I found the circus on the other side of town, and then as I got older I looked after them. I mean sure I love them like my family, but they are not the same as an actual family of people. Luckily I don’t remember what it was like to have a proper family so I guess I’ll never know what I was missing out on.”
         Laura’s dew was not for her dead parents, but for Bernie and his whole life that was changed in every way. She remembered the moment her aunt told her about the car accident; she instinctively took Laura in and treated her like she was her own. She was there for Laura when she missed her parents, she was there to pacify her from her horrifying nightmares, and she was there on her first day of high school through to her last day of college. The moment Laura graduated she decided to move away and her aunt supported her one hundred percent and gave her a loan towards her florist store, as a present for the honors she received in her Art major. Laura suddenly realized how much her aunt sacrificed for her to do the things she was doing.
         “Don’t feel sorry for me” Bernie said with courage. “Life is what life gives you. The smiles I would have got from giving good news to patients are replaced with the smiles of children when I give them a balloon in the shape of a dog, or a flower even.” Bernie giggled to himself and Laura joined in too finally feeling a single tear fall from her eye leaving a streak of black on her left cheek from her make-up.
         “Oh look what I’ve done now. You know, you’re the first person I’ve made cry in his profession!” he said still giggling to himself.
         Bernie opened his arms and Laura fell straight into them. His long arms wrapped around her, and they embraces: the Florist, the Clown and the single Sunflower. That was the first moment in all her life that Laura truly confronted and accepted her parents’ death; she had been accumulating the grief and didn’t realize how much it was holding her back. She snuggled her head into his chest and he rested his on her curly brunette hair, as they slowly rocked each other from side to side. After what felt like an eternity of memories flooding to the present, he released his grip and held her at arms width away, with the Sunflower in his left hand and its head resting against hers. He held her there to fully appreciate her beauty, and then reached into his dungarees pocket with his spare hand and took something out.
         “I’ve got to go back to my family at the circus. I want you to have this.” Bernie gently cupped her hands together, placed something cold and metal in them and curled her French manicured nails around it. She went to find out what it was; his pocket watch. It looked like an antique with its worn gold still shining and its clock hands ticking strongly even though they looked fragile and flaccid.
         “If you ever need a moment to go through time, just look at this. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Laura. Have a wonderful life.”
         He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then pivoted on his large heels and walked over to the door, swung it towards him and ducked under to white-panel frame to leave. She was left paralyzed on the spot for a moment before going to the window to see where he was going. She could see three children playing hop-scotch next to the fountain; the centre piece of the town square. Their mother’s were having a ‘Mother’s Meeting’ by the water and paid no attention to the children. There were two girls and a boy. The boy and one of the girls were hopping, skipping and laughing together while the other girl was standing sullenly on the side lines looking lost. Bernie made his way over to the lonely girl, knelt down, and gave her the single Sunflower; his mission was complete. Realizing this Laura giggled and smiled to herself. She turned around back turned around to admire her flowers, which suddenly radiated their brightest colors to their fullest potential relieved to have finally released their sadness.