The Flower Maker

Chapter Seven

Rebecca was waiting for her next visitor with anticipation and dread. Mr Andrews was about to return. She hoped he would like what took hours and hours for her to bear. It was her unease that had driven her to display her blossom with care and cunning.

Draped over the counter, to reflect its watery abode, was a carpet of overlapping blue periwinkles. In the center, standing alone yet snug, was the lotus. Its transforming and blazing petals rose like an orchestra of ethereal instruments out from its aquatic pit. It ascended like outstretched arms seeking direction and the divine, a torch guiding the lost and wayward.

A flurry of air soon ruffled the flame.

Rebecca came out of her contemplation and saw Mr Andrews, his eyes lighting up at the spectacle.

'My word. That is exquisite.'

Even though her body exploded and raged with joy, there was still hopelessness, a misery knowing that nothing was going to come out of it except a pittance.

Mr Andrews came over and plucked the lotus from its comfort. 'Yes, magnificent. I am definitely going to use this. I'm already getting ideas of what to do. Rebecca, you outdid yourself this time. This will be my next theme, my next center piece. Clients, more than I can imagine, will flood in. I'll be the talk of the town.'

Hypnotized he was, grinning from ear to ear, like an archeologist who had just uncovered an ancient buried treasure, with Rebecca at his side, in a blur, the laborer who had moved sand and stone, the true discoverer.

'I want it all,' he said madly, almost deranged. 'I want every single one you've made.'

'I've only made ten so far.'

Mr Andrews looked at Rebecca with charm and wanting. 'I need more than that. I need a pond of these glorious jewels, these splendid manifestations. No, a lake. No, a sea.'

Proteus. The man that stood before Rebecca was not the same man who had visited her last, the one who looked down at her laced rose, squashed her fragile heart.

'I want all your blue flowers as well. Your presentation has inspired me.'

Inspired to imitate, Rebecca was sure.

'I will pay you handsomely.'

A fair share it won't be. Just enough for Rebecca to keep seeing his face.

'I'll be back to pick everything up in due time.'

Mr Andrews departed, leaving Rebecca with a feeling of being worn and discarded.