Becky's Doll

Chapter 31

THE BUILDINGS AROUND THE Clark's antique shop reflected on how the world had evolved throughout the years if in comparison with this cute little shop cooped up in one corner and hidden in the shadows of these monstrous structures. On entering this shop that resembled a sixties grocery store, I can hear the ticking of the time make a temporary halt. It certainly feels like I have transitioned to a different timeless era. And peculiarly I didn't feel out of place.

The soothing slow paced silence that encased the shop could rival the silence of any library. The whole place barred me from any connection with the outside world and I loved the comfort it gave me. The incessant honking of cars and busy bustling of the streets for some reason failed to penetrate this little shop and it added to it's tranquility.

The room was strangely dim lit and shady despite the bright sun outside, as if heavy rain bearing clouds towered over the room within it's thatched roofs. I inhaled in the pleasing smell of a mixture of peppermints, old ink on yellowed paper and the dust accumulated on various antiquated items.

My eyes searched the room, occasionally stopping to stare at the beauty of the painted porcelain cutlery, cherry blossom imprinted Japanese fans and carved wooden African elephants with their trunks raised up. After a thorough surveying, I finally found Mrs Jensen arranging patterned umbrellas on one of the shop's antiquated rack like furniture. Mrs Jensen, who was once a youthful blooming Clark before her marriage with a sulky presently retired navy officer, had taken over the shop right after her father's untimely demise.

Mrs Jensen was an arduous profit maker who never let any festival season slip out of her fingers without squeezing the money she required, out of it. On days before Halloween, she would fill the shop's display case with her own creative pumpkin carvings and before Christmas, with bottles of wine and raisin cakes. And now in this rainy season, she was arranging umbrellas for sale. Unlike late Mr Clark who never let anything that wasn't antiquated into the shop, Mrs Jensen found constant pleasure in finding more ways to earn money even if it was to sell her homemade meat pies in her antique shop!

Sometimes I find her rather unique and interesting but I just can't decide if her desperate profit making character is justified. Even at such an age where most women would take immense pleasure in leaning on flat backed cushioned chairs and knit woollen sweaters for their son-in- laws, Mrs Jensen owned enviable lithe, grace and elegance. On seeing her jump around like a small bouncing ball, dealing with her non existent customers and fumbling with non existent dust particles, I didn't know what to feel towards this strange lady.

"How can I help you?" Mrs Jensen smiled warmly at me. The sort of smile that took over the entire lower region of her shrivelled face. She was probably resplendent on seeing her first customer of the day.

"Um. Well. I would like to get an umbrella," I stammered and it was partially true. I did need a new umbrella.

"Certainly," Mrs Jensen returned another one of her unfaltering smiles. Without any delay, she rummaged through her racks of several variegated umbrellas.

"Isn't this an antique shop? Why are you-" I asked as I peeped to see the colours of umbrellas she had chosen for me. A bright red one with gradually thinning yellow horizontal stripes and a black and white one that resembled a prison uniform.

"Selling umbrellas?" She prompted. I nodded but my eyes were searching the shelves on the walls, ardently searching for a doll that resembled the one stuffed in my bag.

"My dear. I have been working here for long enough to know that people no longer want this junk," She said, as she gestured to all the antiques filled in the room.