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Was he still following him? Henry jingled and jangled as he sped down the empty street. Every spare gap in his clothing was absolutely stuffed with goodies from the local jeweller, it was a relatively new store in the area having only been opened about 3 weeks. Most shops, which sell things more expensive than the average retail employee usually, properly protect their products with locked glass cases and more eyes than a theatre. What really was there to say? They were almost asking to be robbed, and if he didn’t do it someone else would’ve.
However, there was still a loose end to his ‘shopping trip’ travelling somewhere behind him. The store had two guards. He only caught the name-badge of one, Jacob. Jacob was not the one following him. He had managed to sneak out of the store in a group of people who jingled has much as him, needlessly shoving jewels, obviously, into their pockets.
Henry wasn’t dressed in a way that spoke ‘I pay millions of dollars for jewels’. He had on a pair of baggy trousers matched with an oversized hoodie, which probably didn’t help him in how suspicious the guard had thought he was.
Looking back now was a terrible idea but, he couldn’t help and take a quick flash behind him. That guard was the only dumbass along the entire street, clocking Henry’s look immediately and speeding up towards him. Great. Henry focused on the pavement in front of him. It was a long stretch of road and along it was a few quiet shops and the rest were dusty house and flats. His eyes locked onto a small shop across the street, there seemed to be someone in there but not a crowd. He ran across the road, knowing that if he slowed down, by even the tiniest amount, the guard would have him in seconds. ‘Push’. He pressed his palm down on the handle of the shop door and gently pushed it open, quickly stepping inside.
Everything inside was a growing green, a simple pleasure easily forgotten in a city. There were two isles each jam packed with plants of flowers on each side of the walking space. At the back of the store was two counters, both small in width but quite long. Above one of them were rolls of paper-thin plastic, presumably for making bouquets, and the other held a till and the hand of a man he only just noticed.
Henry eyes clicked onto his face after realising his presence, the man was already looking at him a soft smile on his face. He wore a pastel green and blue flannel, paired with bootcut jeans and a white apron, stained in plant juices. What Henry thought was a little odd about this figure however, was the red and black headphones that dangled from his neck. The man was fiddling with the side of them, he couldn’t see perfectly through the gaps of his fingers but, he guessed it was his microphone.
“Hey there!” The man spoke, his smile widening just a little as he noticed Henry’s mind flicked onto his voice. “You, uh, looking for something specific? You look rather lost.” Henry rather was. He had no reason to be in this shop apart from the man following him down the street. The flannel guy seemed nice though, maybe he could get something… He slowly nodded, glancing around the shop once more.
With the ring of a bell, the security guard stepped into the store grabbing the attention of the two men. He was of average height with a brief covering of stubble across his chin and, of course, a security hat on his head. “You. You’re coming with me.” He growled, pointing a finger aggressively at Henry. The guard made a grab for Henry, infuriately succeeding with ease. There wasn’t anywhere to run in this tiny store. The florist himself rushed forward towards them.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” He told a strong hold of the guard’s wrist and Henry’s arm, pulling them apart with a frown. “You can’t go around stealing other people’s customers! It’s not your store to have a quarrel so,” He paused, taking a small breath and a glance at Henry. “Go away.” The guard’s eyes were wide, and without another look he stepped outside. A smile grew on Henry’s face as he watched the guard from the store window. The flannel man must have noticed his smile, briefly scratching his cheek before speaking once again. “He’s probably gonna hang around a while so, be careful when you leave here, m’kay?” Henry nodded, still watching for the guy outside. Slowly, the man made his way back behind the counter, propping his upper arms on the table. “So…” The florist’s voice was the only noise in the room, echoing ever so slightly. Henry’s attention was his. “What are you actually looking for?” Shit. He’s got to buy something now! His mind reeled with excuses. After what feels like way too long, an idea popped into his head. The main reason people go to florists is for flowers, he didn’t really want flowers for himself but, he was sure his roommate, Ellie wouldn’t mind a couple of jewels, some flowers and a ridiculous story. He pulled a polite smile, carefully signing out his request. ‘Bouquet for a close friend’. The features of the florist lit up immediately. “Oh! Great! Are there any flowers you’d like to include? Or, maybe, a price range?” Henry shook his head. With the number of jewels, he has stuffed in his pants, he could easily afford to buy some flowers. The flannel man seemed shocked, obviously expecting some sort of limitation. “You sure, bud?” Henry nods.
He stepped into the isle suddenly giving off a new air of confidence, which was somehow comforting. His eyes flicked around the middle stool that separated the two walking spaces. Henry took note of the stool properly. Upon it was a staircase of three steps on each side, creating a pyramid. Each step held a selection of small buckets, filled with flowers all perfectly organised by type. Henry must confess he didn’t really know much about flowers so, he could only really name the selection of roses to the right side of the table. The man’s attention swayed back on him, facing Henry with a warm smile. “What’s your friend like? Is there an occasion?”
Henry shakes his head. ‘No occasion. Thought flowers may be a good gift to show my appreciation for our friendship.” The man grinned, lightly playing with the petal of a flower, as he watched for the rest of Henry’s reply. ‘She’s smart, brave, loud and kind.’ The florist gave Henry a quick nod before beginning to hum and wander round the table, hunting for the perfect selection of flowers. Henry’s mind lingered to the guard but, when he glanced outside, he seems to be no where in sight. A relieved sigh left his lips, allowing him to relax his shoulders slightly.
It didn’t take long for the man to select a bunch of flowers and absent-mindedly wander up to Henry. “How’s this?” He tilted the flowers towards Henry. The bouquet was swirling with different flowers all different shapes and sizes to combine to create a beautiful art piece of yellows, whites and pinks. With an excited thumbs up, the florist beamed, jumping back slightly in his excitement. “That’s great! I’ll wrap this up for you then!” He skipped to the back of the room placing the collection of colours onto the side close to the till. Next, pulling a pair of wire cutters and a pair of scissors to the edge of the counter. Using the scissors, he cut two pieces of string from a roll of string to the left of him. He raised his arm, gesturing to the selection of plastic rolls to the right of him on the wall. “Would you like to choose one for your friend?” His focus was locked upon the bouquet at first. Henry hummed, there’s was three to choose from on the wall: white, purple, & green. The florist gave a glance behind him just as Henry pointed to the top roll, the white one. He hums in response, pulling out a good amount of the roll and cutting it in a very practiced manner. Henry shuffled round to the till in an attempt to watch the man more yet, could barely get a glimpse before the flowers were already wrapped tightly in the plastic covering. A matching white, glossy ribbon was tied round the stems of the bouquet and a small tag hung from it, one side of the tag was plain and the other was patterned in a yellow flower print. The man stepped over the till and gently placed the flowers on the counter, flicking the tag over so the white side was facing up then offering Henry a small grey pot with 5 different colour pens within it. “Do ya wanna write on the tag?” The florist’s voice came out strong and practiced. He probably did this hundreds of times a week. Henry took a blue pen, realising much too late that it was actually pink and scribbled onto the tag.
‘Dear Ellie, you smell.’ He chuckled at his own immaturity and cheerfully handed the florist the pen back. The man placed the pen back in the pot and prodded at the till for a moment or two until speaking again. “That’ll be $20, please!” Henry shoved his hands into his pockets, causing all of the stolen goods in his pocket to rattle. The flannel man tilted his head with a brow raised, watching Henry as he carefully pulled out his wallet and handed the man a $20 note. The florist gave a small thanks and placed the money within the till, awkwardly prodding at the machine again until it printed a paper receipt. Next, he shook open a blue plastic bag from under the counter and carefully placed the flowers in it along with his receipt then back on the counter. Henry took the handle of the bag, nodding a thanks to the florist.
Henry turned around to exit the store when the florist spoke once more. “Ya know, for someone so quiet, you’re very loud.” Henry could feel the grin in the florist’s voice and let out a chuckle in response, quickly waving before pulling open the door and continuing his journey home, except alone this time.