As usual,
Nestor opened up his flower shop as soon as the streetlamps went off. The sun
was beginning to poke through the roofs of distant suburbs and the city streets
were slowly coming into light. Everything that would be white at noon was now
lavender. Nestor rolled up the metal curtains that protected his windows and
undid the chain around the door. He knew that none of it could protect him from
the greater threats of the world, though it offered relief from its petty ones.
The screeching sound of the metal hurt his ears yet it was a sign that he was
ready for business.
Nestor took out a key and opened the
door. Everything appeared to be the way that he left it, including the money in
the cash register. He checked the refrigerators and cooling units to make sure
the flowers inside them were in good condition, setting aside whatever was
starting to wilt. Nestor arranged the displays in his windows, and watered the
plants that were thirsty. When everything was settled, he went to the cash
register to count how much money they had left. After counting several times,
he put the money back and went to the front of the shop. When Nestor had turned
on the blue and red neon sign that announced he was open for customers, his
assistant Dolon came in.
“You’re late.”
“Sorry. The trains were useless.”
“Then you need to make yourself more
useful.”
“How?”
“Get up earlier.”
“Well, I’m here.”
“After I set up everything. Again.”
“Uncle, what can I do for you?”
“Go back in time and come in
earlier.”
“Okay. But my time machine is at the
bar.”
“Go sweep up the back.”
“All right.”
Their first customer of the day came
in to buy some lilies. Nestor showed her what they had and she bought a bundle
of white ones. She told him they were her favorite. He rang up the price and as
she paid him, the woman said the flowers would help decorate her living room
for a party. Nestor enjoyed hearing the stories and plans his customers had for
the flowers. It made him feel a part of their lives. Nestor thanked her and
when she left, he wished that he had thought of something to say in order to
keep her in the shop longer. He found that having a customer inside was a
magnet to draw in others. After she left, it was just Nestor and Dolon in the
store for an hour, neither of them attracting any attention from the traffic
going by the windows. Occasionally someone would stop and look at the flowers
arranged behind the glass. Nestor would gaze out at the spectators, but they
could not see him. He could observe the same pattern on each face: first one of
interest, then a temptation to buy, and finally the guilty realization that
they had no one to give flowers to.
Dolon told Nestor he was done
sweeping and he told him to make sure everything was watered and all the
containers holding the plants were solid and sturdy. It was a job that kept
Dolon in the back and away from the crowds outside. Nestor had noticed that
whenever his nephew was by the window he would end up perched in front of it, staring
out into the public space. Nestor knew he looked bored when he did it, and when
he looked bored it prevented other people from stopping to look at the floral
displays. When it was colder, his breathing also fogged up the glass around his
nostrils.
An hour before lunch, Astyanax came
into the florist shop. He was wearing a dark charcoal suit with a burgundy
colored shirt opened two buttons down. As soon as Nestor saw him enter, he
motioned for Dolon to stack boxes and crates in the back. Nestor then came
around the main counter and shook Astyanax’s hand. The skin was dry and smooth
like paper, except for where he had scars. Nestor tried to make small talk with
him, but he was not interested.
“Nestor, you know why I’m here.”
He nodded.
“Listen, if my son or daughter was
getting married, it would all be so much easier. Or if there was a funeral. I
would let you give me the arrangements and everything would be balanced.
Unfortunately, weddings and funerals are in short supply for me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“So I need cash, not flowers.
Believe me,” Astyanax put his hand on Nestor’s shoulder, “If I could take them,
I would. But I have to kick up ten percent too.” He motioned with his thumb up
to the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have much.
What I have in the register is just change, really. If you stood outside the
door you would see that no one comes in. Business is bad.”
“Be that as it may, protection still
has to be paid for. Now, Nestor, you know that we keep decent rates, same in
good times and in bad. I’m not like the landlord, I’m reasonable, right?”
“Yes.”
“So, I want you to get me the money
by the end of today. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Nestor looked at the floor. “Yes.”
“See, I trust you. I’m not going to
even look into your cash register, look at your books to see if you’re lying.
Just get me the money at the end of today.”
“All right Astyanax.”
The collector turned around and
closed the door behind him. Nestor called Dolon out from the back. He came out
and asked Nestor what was wrong.
“Get the icon from the closet.” He
told his nephew
“Is that where you put it?”
“Yes.”
Dolon looked puzzled and Nestor
explained.
“I never put it back after the
fumigation.”
Dolon went into the closet and
fished around for the icon of the Virgin. He fought brooms, mops, baskets,
bottles of disinfectant, empty boxes, and pails. In the lower right-hand corner
he found the picture, the surface still managed to glitter even though the only
light was a single bulb dangling off the ceiling. Dolon picked up the icon and
brought it out to the counter, setting it face down on the glass. Nestor yelled
at him for leaving the picture that way. He took it and placed the icon where
it had once been, on a shelf looking over the cashier. The Virgin, covered in a
dark hood and a gold halo, looked down on them both. Nestor then told Dolon to
come behind the counter with him. Then he commanded his nephew to kneel before
the portrait.
“I don’t remember the prayers.”
“It’s okay. Pray silently. We’re not
in church.”
Both of them found the ground to be
hard and cold. Their knees began to hurt almost the instant they made contact
with the floor. Dolon observed Nestor fold his hands, make the signs of the
cross, and lower his head. He copied each of these movements. When his uncle
began to pray quietly with his lips moving, Dolon tried to imitate this too,
but found it impossible to keep up. His uncle then made the sign of the cross
once more and Dolon copied him in this. When Nestor was done, he stood up and
brushed his pants. Dolon got up and asked what he had prayed for.
“I asked the Virgin for her aid and
intervention.”
“Did you ask her for money?”
“Not specifically.”
“But that’s what Astyanax wants,
right?”
“I just need some more customers
today. A couple hundred for the month, it’s not too much. I normally wouldn’t
bother her, but we’ve just had such bad luck with the weather.”
“She knows, I’m sure.”
“Yes.”
“She also knows what we need.”
“That too.”
“So why did we need to pray?”
“So we know that she knows.”
“And if maybe the message gets
lost?”
“It won’t. I ask very little from
the Virgin. Some help now and then, a small amount of strength, and only then,
to endure. I have faith a good thing will come through to us.”
“If you think so.”
“I believe it. Besides, it is a
simple miracle to ask for, a little more business. As far as the saints are
concerned, it’s just a card trick.”
Nestor took up his position behind
the cash register and Dolon swept the floor. When he was done, he cleaned the
windows of the display cases. Noon came and went, Nestor counted what was in
the register, and bored, played a game of rearranging the currency by amount,
color, date of issue, and alphabetically by who was on front. Finally he spread
the bills on the counter and then worked on putting them back in the right
places inside the cash register. Dolon was done with cleaning and went outside
and lit a cigarette.
His uncle looked at the picture of
the Virgin, wondering if she had heard his prayer and had begun working on his
behalf. It would not take much. She only had to stir up a desire for flowers in
a few people, and his trouble would be allayed. The Virgin could also kill
Astyanax, but Nestor would not ask for this. He had to love his neighbor no
matter what they asked of him. Meanwhile, the icon of the Virgin continued
looking out at the rest of the store. Her eyes resembled spheres of dark glass,
which reminded Nestor of surveillance cameras. Her pose was peaceful, the only
tension in her body was found in her hand, which was raised up with two fingers
lifted together. Nestor was happy that he not bought a weeping Virgin or a
picture of her surrounded by other people.
The door opened and instead of his
nephew, Nestor looked up and saw that it was a customer. She asked for a dozen
roses. Nestor got the attention of Dolon, who came in and got the flowers for
her. Unlike most of the customers, she said little. Nestor gave her the price,
hoping she would then tell him what the flowers were for, but she left without
another word. The customer held the door open for two other people and they
rushed in, asking if he had any flowers left. Nestor smiled at them and said
his stock was more than full. Each of them got a dozen roses, paid, and then
left.
For the rest of the day there was no
more dead time for Nestor and Dolon. People started to gather in front of the
store and began to form a line to get in. Everyone was quiet and Nestor’s
attempts to talk to them were met with frowns. Eventually he had no free
moments to try and converse as the requests for flowers kept coming in. Dolon
raced around the shop, to find what the customers requested. Once the rose were
out, Nestor was afraid of telling everyone for fear of losing them, but the
customers proved willing to take buy anything with a stem, leaves, and petals.
As the display cases were emptied and even the flowers in the windows were
bought up, Nestor took Dolon aside and told him to bring out the flowers that
they had set aside to be thrown out. Dolon protested, who would want to buy
flowers that were wilted and losing their color?
It turned out, that the customers
did not care. Even though they could see the condition that the flowers were
in, they bought them anyways. Nestor felt guilty about profiting using such
plants, but the look of relief on the customer’s faces made him feel better. No
one looked like they were being cheated and abused, so how could he feel bad in
return? As the afternoon went along, even the supply of damaged and wilted
flowers dwindled. Dolon asked Nestor if there was anything that could be done,
and Nestor said short of gluing picture of flowers to sticks, nothing. Once all
the flowers were sold, they would have to close.
Nestor was telling his nephew the
truth. An hour before their normal closing time, they shut the shop down and
turned off the open sign. The shop had been picked clean and customers still
arrived to see if there were any roses, lilies, violets, tulips, or even
orchids left. Each time Dolon turned them away. Once it was clear that business
was closed, people began heading to other shops and left theirs alone. Nestor
told Dolon that it was important for him to arrive on time tomorrow. They would
have to restock the shelves and had to do it quickly in case they would be
fortunate enough to have another rush of customers. Dolon promised he would
make a better effort than he had in the past and asked his uncle to remind him
what prayer it was he used with Virgin.
Nestor told Dolon to count the money
that was in the register. He wanted to take a rest and sit down. His feet were
swelling against the sides of his shoes. Dolon counted the money and when he
was done held as much of it as he could. He had never had so much cash in his
hands. It was flower money and he imagined that somehow it would smell like
roses even after it left his hands and the flower shop. Meanwhile Nestor got up
and looked around the display cases to see if there was any trace of the
flowers that had been sold out, a stem, a petal, even a thorn that had gotten
loose and fallen. He found a rose that was stuck in the corner of the case and
showed it to his nephew.
“Look, a missed opportunity. Maybe
we should sell it in the streets.”
Dolon smiled as Astyanax entered the
shop. He stopped in the middle of the store and looked at the pile of money
near the register. “Looks like today was your lucky day.”
“Yes.”
“I guess lucky for me as well.”
Nestor looked at the ground. “Yes.”
Astyanax walked over to the counter
and told Dolon to put the money in stacks. Dolon looked at Nestor and he nodded
his head. When he was finished, Astyanax took the neat piles and put one each
in the pockets of the jacket and pants.
“We’re probably the only lucky
people in the city today.”
“Why?”
“Didn’t you hear Nestor? There was a
bombing on the subway. They think fifty people were killed, maybe more.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah. People are already building a
memorial, lighting candles, placing,” he paused, “cards at the site of the
attacks. Terrible stuff. The president is going to talk about it tonight.”
“I guess I will have to watch it.”
“He’ll say the same thing.” Astyanax
noticed the icon. “She’s cute. I think she’s a keeper Nestor.”
“Thanks.”
Astyanax laughed and left the shop,
stuffed with paper money. Nestor sat down on his chair with the flower still in
his hand and looked at the icon for a minute without saying anything. He felt
he could see the Virgin looking at the blossom and stem rising up from his
grip. Dolon watched his uncle and then decided to go to the back of the shop
and turn the lights off in the storage area. When Dolon was gone, Nestor
grabbed the top of the rose with his free hand and crushed the petals until
they were a red pulp between his fingers.
