As you know, we writers of Paddle Creek, are working on a round robin story. When it came time for me to write my installment however, I got sick and have been ill for several weeks and got behind on all things writerly. I am doing much better now and have finally written the last installment of our story. Enjoy!
Why was the the dapper gentleman in the bow tie saddened after talking to us? Would he no longer see sapphire blue, white or lime green and now only black? Would he be remorseful with his decision to talk with us and never step into my shop again?
Violet and I had interesting lunch discussions about these men of color. What were they doing? How did they know each other? Why had the man in color all of a sudden started coming into my shop and what did each color represent?
The following week, the man of color, which is how Violet and myself dubbed him, came in wearing lavender. A lavender suit, tie and shoes. I motioned to Violet to check out his car parked out front. She grabbed a duster and headed to the front display window. I watched lavender man go to the old section of books. I was adding up receipts at the cash register, not sure I wanted to see what he was up to. I was trying to think how many lavender book covers I had in stock. Did I have any?
Violet came over and whispered, “A lavender Pinto!” She and I exchanged flabbergasted looks. What on earth?
A few minutes later Lavender Man walked up with a copy of The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I didn’t remember that one, but I rang it up for him. He left without a word. Violet and I exchanged looks again, shaking our heads. The mystery continued.
It wasn’t until a few months later that I saw a flyer at the grocery store advertising the Man of Many Colors, a supposedly famous colorologist who specialized in giving audience members their correct color or temperament merely by holding a book of a certain color near them and intoning some sort of ‘magic’ that gave him insight to their particular temperament. This’ life altering’ information could only be learned at one of his shows, in person.
I ripped a copy of the flyer off the board and showed it to Violet the next morning. “Can you believe this nonsense? And people are gullible to fall for it, paying $50 for a ticket?”
“Scarlet, people are always looking for the next ‘thing’, and if they’re desperate to pay fifty bucks for a ticket, what are we to say?”
I wadded up the flyer and threw it in the trash can. At least we knew a little more about our mystery color man and we took it as a compliment that he bought his needed books at our shop, Books of Many Colors.