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 Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 3:50 pm
.:Short Story:.
Title: "A Rather Peculiar Story Involving a Long, Black Silk Scarf with a Tiny Flower Embroidered on the End"
Genre: Fantasy/Romance
Rating: 
Background info: This was a Challenge that a friend of mine gave me: write a story about a 'long black silk scarf with a tiny flower embroidered on the end.' The other instruction? 'It can't be just about the embroidered flower'. On a day off from school, I went to a cafe by my house and just wrote it as it came to me.
So, here it is...
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 3:51 pm
Bret bit into her blueberry muffin absentmindedly as she gazed at the passersby out of the window of the small café in which she was lunching. She was bored. No. No, she was at a complete loss as to what to do with her time. The fifteen-year-old girl’s life was not at its most exciting point. School was average, her friends were normal, she had absolutely no romantic interest, and to top it off, she couldn’t think of anything to write. Writing was Bret’s one refuge from her very average existence. But at the moment, she couldn’t even manage to do that. It’s pathetic, she thought. There are plenty of things I can do: go window-shopping, hang with some friends, go to the library… Yet none of the ideas she suggested to herself sounded quite right. So she nibbled on the muffin. And toyed with the straw that dipped into her untouched lemonade. And wasted some more of the fine sunny day that lay just outside the café.
But it was not the café itself that was hindering Bret’s usual adventurous spirit. It was a particular scarf she had seen in a particular thrift store that was only a few stores down on that particular block of Austin, Texas. This scarf was a lovely thing: long and black and silk with a small red tulip embroidered on the end. Bret had seen it when visiting that particular thrift store with her two closest friends, Athena and Cate. (Yes, at times, the trio was known as A, B, and C.) It was Cate who had found it hidden under a stack of oversized hippie tie-dye shirts, and Bret both blessed her and cursed her for it. You see, something about the scarf captured Bret. She wasn’t quite sure whether it was the smooth material or the lovely embroidery or just the sense that there was a tremendous story behind it, but it seemed like the perfect article of clothing. Plus, both Cate and Athena had said that the scarf looked fabulous against Bret’s lightly tanned skin. Now, normally, Bret would utterly and totally trust her instincts and buy the beautiful thing. But there was a problem. The long black silk scarf with a tiny flower embroidered on the end was twenty dollars. Which was twenty dollars too much out of Bret’s miniscule income of five bucks a week, plus the occasional babysitting gig. And there were movies and books to think of! Even the muffin and lemonade were coming out of her meagerly lined wallet. And to use the money on a scarf that could only be worn about two months out of the year, considering Austin’s nearly perpetual heat. Yet something tugged on the edge of Bret’s reason and whispered that any amount of dollars would be worth it.
But for the time being, Bret was a standstill. And would have remained at that standstill for much later into the afternoon had not salvation appeared at the door of the café in the form of Athena and Cate, who both smiled radiantly at the teenage boy behind the counter and then rushed over to Bret and swept her out of the café.
“What the hell?” asked Bret as she was shoved out onto the sidewalk.
“We were looking for you everywhere!” exclaimed Athena as she intertwined her arm with that of her bewildered friend.
“Finally we checked with your mom and she said you’d ‘gone strolling’, so I suggested we check here, even though A didn’t think you’d be there,” added Cate in her typically energetic manner.
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 3:52 pm
“Still moping about the scarf, eh?” Athena didn’t even wait for Bret’s response. “We figured.”
“Not moping!” protested Bret, finally having a chance to speak up. “Just…meditating on it.”
“Oh, pleeeease.”
“If you were meditating, then I’m the Queen of England,” muttered Athena, who took yoga classes and knew meditating from moping.
“Come on,” added Cate. “You ordered lemonade. You don’t even like lemonade.”
“Well, maybe it’s growing on me-”
“Look,” interrupted Athena again as she pushed her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes. “You can just stop denying it, Bret. We know you too well. So…. we didn’t something about it.”
From behind Cate came a small brown paper bag. Bret gave her friends an amazed look and then tentatively took it from Cate’s hands. Inside, resting in a bed of lavender tissue paper was not the scarf. No. Inside was a wad of ones that, when counted up, was twenty-one dollars.
“We figured you’d want to buy it yourself, so we added up our spare cash and we had just enough,” Athena told Bret with a grin.
“Holy crap,” muttered Bret. “Dude, you guys are way too nice.”
“Yeah, I know,” replied Cate with a laugh. “Now go get your scarf.”
....
The thrift store’s musty smell simultaneously delighted and repulsed Bret’s nostrils as she passed into the shadow of the store’s dimly lit interior. Once inside, the girl made a beeline for the rack in the back of the building where she and her friends had hidden the scarf the day before. When she reached the rack ahead of Cate and Athena, Bret was faced with a young man who was standing right in front of the hiding place of the scarf.
Immediately, Bret was nervous. She had never been good with boys, unlike her two friends. Athena had an easy self-assurance around guys, while Cate just mostly ignored the other sex. Bret, however, was never quite sure what was the right approach. Still, she straightened her shoulders and tapped the young man on the shoulder. He turned to face her, revealing a handsome smiling face with hazel eyes that were framed by messy brown hair. Bret was taken aback at first at his attractive appearance, but then, she smiled. No more of the fear was there and she was at ease.
“Yes?”
“Um, do you mind? Excuse me.”
“No trouble, my lady,” replied the boy with an amused grin as he gave her a slight bow and stepped out of her way. Bret found herself laughing as she began to go through the many hats, which were equal parts hideous and gorgeous.
“So…what are you looking for?” asked the young man, his interest piqued by the girl who so obviously had a purpose there and who, he privately thought, seemed to be quite lovely in both appearance and mind.
“Oh, just this scarf that I saw yesterday,” Bret replied shooting a glance back at the young man. Than, with a growing horror, Bret realized that the young man was holding that very same scarf.
Seeing her dismayed expression, the young man spoke. “This is the scarf?”
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 3:53 pm
Bret nodded, her look of anguish changing to that of sad resignation. “You were planning to buy it?”
“I admit, I was,” he replied. “But I’d be happy to give it to you.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to-”
“Oh, shut up. You’re not asking anything. I’m offering.”
“Even still…”
“So you won’t let me let you buy it.”
“No.”
He scowled and then grabbed Bret’s hand and dragged her to cashier. “Fine,” he muttered. The young man approached the cashier and purchased the scarf all the while giving Bret very stern looks.
Bret was at the pits of despair. She had lost her scarf and lost the favor of a very kind young gentleman, the only boy she had ever really felt comfortable with. She looked on miserably as the young man bought the scarf and then had the older lady behind the counter gift-wrap it. Then finally, the boy turned back to face her with the package in his arms.
“You happy?” he asked darkly.
Bret nodded utterly insincerely.
“Good,” he said, his voice lightening. And with that he did the last thing Bret had expected: he gave her the package.
Shock, gratitude, and delight hit her all at once and on an impulse, Bret gave the young man a very exuberant hug.
“Happy now?” he whispered into her ear.
“Yes,” she said as they parted. Then she fell into embarrassment. “Er, I mean- I am happy, but you- you really shouldn’t have! And I shouldn’t have… I- Um…”
He put a finger to her lips. “No. If you want to say anything, just say ‘thanks’.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” There was a pause and then he grinned beautifully and headed for the door.
“Wait!”
He turned and gave her a questioning glance.
“Um… You,” she said, pointing at him. “Do you have a…. email? I mean, heck, I don’t even know your name.”
The young man laughed, and then offered her his hand to shake. “Orlando.”
“Like from ‘As You Like It’!”
“Yeah! Not many people get that. They just think, well, Orlando Bloom.”
“I bet.”
“So…your name?”
“Bret. And those,” she said, pointing at her friends who popped out from behind a clothing rack as if on cue, “are Cate and Athena.” Cate and Athena had been, of course, watching all of the goings-on, as they had a tendency to do when Bret and guys were involved, but just had refrained from interrupting, as they also had a tendency to do when Bret and guys were involved.
“Well, lemme get a piece of paper,” muttered Orlando as he rummaged through his pockets. When he found some, he wrote his email done and had Bret do the same thing for him. As it turned out, the two lived rather close to each other and they planned to meet at a coffee shop but two days later.
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 3:54 pm
So after much running around after a long black silk scarf with a tiny flower embroidered on the end of it, Bret watched a possible romantic interest walk out of the thrift store and she heard herself say, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
And Cate and Athena, who were on either side of her, laughed and said in unison, “I think that we have the potential for much, much more than a friendship, my dear.”
Bret turned to Cate and then said, with what might have been surprise spiced with sarcasm, “You think?”
.:Epilogue:.
-excerpted from Tales and Histories of Boston
“…There is a particularly interesting tale which has it’s beginning in 1801, when Mrs. Harrison, widow, died of pneumonia at the age of sixty. When her relatives were distributing her possessions according to her will, they found a strange note that gave a ‘long, black silk scarf with a red embroidered tulip on the end of it: to all the lovers of the world’. But most peculiar of all, there was no scarf to be found. At first the family assumed that the deceased woman had perhaps imagined the entire thing, but then a niece of Mrs. Harrison testified that she had seen such a scarf at her aunt’s house before that that Mrs. Harrison had showed her that her aunt’s engagement ring was concealed behind the tulip. The value of the scarf increased, the family led a major search throughout the house and in the surrounding areas of the city. It was all to no avail, however, and the scarf was not found.
The story is not yet finished, though. More than half a century later, the scarf was sighted in Oregon Country where it was supposedly the item that brought more than one couple together. Since then, it has been seen all over the world. Some of the highlights include (in historical order): Savannah, Georgia; Dublin, Ireland; London, England; Casablanca, Morocco; Hong Kong, China; Tokyo, Japan; and Buenos Aires, Brazil. As it’s location today, it is anyone’s guess, if it even exists beyond some widow’s fantasy. One thing, however, unites all of the stories told of this black silk scarf: one way or another, this innocuous article of clothing has led to romance. There are tales of the scarf that stretch from leading to chance meetings and saving marriages to serving as a veil to a distraught bride. Is Mrs. Harrison’s dream of giving back to the world’s lovers a reality?
Many have asked if there may not be some magical force behind this legend, and though this writer remains skeptical of that theory, there certainly tales of witchcraft surrounding Mrs. Harrison during her life and after her death. She was once described as ‘the kindest faerie lady that ever lived’ by a child who lived across the avenue from her for some years, and many a neighbor said she had ‘a gift with healing’, though many have questioned whether this just meant she was a particularly skilled nurse.
If any case, the story of Mrs. Harrison’s scarf for lovers remains an interesting topic and of course, if you ever come across a scarf that fits this description, please call 1-800…”
Copyrighted by okami_katana
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2007 3:58 pm
:.The End....for now.:
Thank you for reading. Please, if you have time, tell me what you thought in the Rules, Feedback, and Chatting! (Oh My!) forum.
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