Big Yellow Taxi

You said that yesterday

”Today's the day,” Rowan's mother informed her in a silly little singsong voice.  There was nothing Rowan could do except giggle.  

“You know you said that yesterday,” Rowan reminded the woman as she toyed with the tiger's eye that hung on a silver chain around her neck.  Not only had her mother said the same thing the day before, she had been saying it almost every day for a whole week since she had read Rowan's fortune and the Lovers card had been revealed.  Lola giggled along with her daughter and pulled the young woman close, pressing a soft kiss into her cheek.  

“I know,” the woman admitted, “but I have a special feeling about today.”  Tonight was not only a full moon, it was a harvest moon. Magic and good tidings were in the air.  Lola picked up a flat of herbs and set them on the large display table. One flowering herb in particular caught her eye.  She broke off a small piece of lavender from one of the small potted plants. Turning, Lola tucked it into the braids that were holding her daughter's long dark hair back from her face.  “Lavender,” she told the young woman, “for luck.” 

Rowan's friend Ayla laughed at them both.  Then she spun, presenting her back to Rowan's mother and begging the woman to put one of the small purple flowers in her hair too.  The flower might not help, but she figured it couldn't hurt. If nothing else, at least it would make her hair smell good.  

The two young women had grown up in what was essentially a small tight knit and almost closed community.  They lived in what most people would call an eco-village or a sustainable living community. One of the many alternate lifestyle communities that had been founded by hippies back in the late sixties.  Unlike many others, Rowan and Ayla’s group had withstood the test of time and grown in membership instead of decreasing when alternative lifestyles started to decrease in popularity. Rowan and Ayla were third generation members, granddaughters of the people that had originally founded the group.  

The two young women loved their home, but living in such a small community made it hard to meet potential partners.  Most of the men the girls knew were like family, people they had grown up with since they were all small children. Since Rowan went to visit with her father on the Indian reservation where he lived, she had a slightly more opportunity to meet men than her friend did.  But she still hadn't met anyone that had been able to hold her attention for more than a short time.  

The talk of boys and love ceased as the women busied themselves getting their booth ready for the day's business.  They sold small starter plants that people could take home and plant in their own gardens, fresh fruits and vegetables, fresh made goat cheese, and fresh tofu, which was the thing that they tended to make the most money from.  Rowan also had a few very rambunctious young puppies she was hoping to sell. Her dogs were purebred bullmastiffs, and she knew they were worth up to almost two thousand dollars a piece. While the money was important, especially since she was raising it for a charitable cause, she was always willing to negotiate on price to make sure her dogs would go to loving homes.  

Rowan set up a small area for the puppies, making sure they were in the shade and had plenty of water.  One puppy had gallons more energy than the rest. Rowan had promised herself she wouldn't name the puppies, since that made it harder for her to sell them to new owners, but she had already started calling that one Lily.  While the rest of the puppies could be trusted to stay inside the small enclosure, Lily was hooked to a leash and tied to the bumper of the truck where Rowan could keep an eye on her. She had already proven to be quite the tiny escape artist.

Heading around the front of the large display table, Rowan moved a few of the signs around, making them easier to read and checking to be sure the items were labeled with the right price.  Since you rented your booth for the season, most of the vendors knew each other. While they were waiting for the market to open Rowan's mother walked over to chat with a woman she knew that sold beautiful handmade jewelry.  

Ayla came around from the truck with a stack of small colorful flyers in her hands.  The flyers were advertising the full moon festival that was being held tonight in their community.  Festivals were always fun. But this one was a good opportunity to invite people from outside to come into their community and see how they lived.  Allowing outsiders in helped people from the local area to understand that Twin Oaks was not some strange religious cult, as people often wrongly assumed it was.  And once in a while it gave them a chance to meet someone that was interested in joining their community, a rare and welcome occurrence. Living off the land and sharing resources was not a lifestyle that appealed to the average person.

“Should we just set them out?,” Ayla asked, “or should we hand them out to people that look interesting?”  Rowan laughed, knowing that when Ayla said people that look interesting, she actually meant men that she thought were attractive.  Ayla was slightly younger than Rowan and at the same festival last summer she had been put in charge of watching the younger children.  This task was reserved for teens that were old enough to be trusted but not old enough to go completely unsupervised. Unlike the outside world, In Rowan and Ayla’s community there was not a set magic age when a teenager started being considered an adult.  It was different for each individual and happened when a person had shown that they were able to be trusted to make responsible decisions. This was the first year Ayla would be celebrating the festival fully as an adult and she was overflowing with excitement.

“Let's do both,” Rowan suggested, taking half the flyers and setting them in a stack near the front of the table where they could be easily seen by everyone that walked by.  Ayla smiled, bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other with eager anticipation. Rowan felt the same tingling energy. She loved working their stand at the farmer's market.  When she was there, she got to meet and interact with so many different types of people.  

Rowan's least favorite type of people were the wealthy older women with the oddly stretched faces.  First of all, their surgically altered faces gave her the creeps. They looked like deranged catfish.  And secondly, they were rude. Those women barged in front of other shoppers like they owned the place and always seemed to be able to come up with the strangest questions for her.  Like were the strawberries non GMO even though the sign above the table clearly stated that everything they sold was organic. Rowan was fairly sure most of them didn't understand what GMO even meant.  

One memorably rude woman had asked Rowan if they sold organic cotton pillowcases.  When Rowan told her they didn’t and gestured to the table full of vegetables and plants, the woman had demanded the phone number to a store that sold bedding.  As if the woman expected Rowan to stop everything she was doing and locate a phone directory immediately. Rowan’s mother had stepped in and dealt with the woman before Rowan had the chance to explain to that evil old witch that not everyone in the universe was her personal servant.  

Luckily enough, most of the people that came to the market were much more fun than that.  Rowan's favorite type of people were the young mothers that brought their small children along.  The food stamp program in the state of Virginia doubled up any benefits that were spent on fresh fruits and vegetables at the farmers markets.  So they got a lot of mothers and children that came to shop. Rowan recognized all of the regulars on sight. Most of them came right to her stand because they knew she would always throw in a little more food than they had the food stamps to pay for.  Plus the little children loved Rowan and liked to pet the giant black dog she often brought to the market with her.  

While they waited, Ayla pulled her well loved second hand guitar from its beat up case.  She strummed mindlessly at first, then started playing a Joni Mitchell song they all knew well.  Rowan didn't have much of a singing voice but she sang along anyway, stopping to laugh at the men from the hog farm a few stalls down that were singing along louder and much more out of tune than she was.  When the song was done, Ayla stopped playing and called over to them.

“Want to trade?,” she asked, pulling a package of tofu from the cooler, “Tofu for some pork chops?”  Her joke made the men laugh and one of them stuck his finger in his mouth, pretending he was going to lose his breakfast at the very thought of consuming pressed bean curd.  “Should we give them a flyer?” Ayla whispered to her friend. Rowan shrugged.  

“We can give them one later,” she reminded the other woman, “they'll be here all day.”  Ayla nodded. Rowan was right, she didn't want to seem too eager. While people from their community valued honesty and directness, Ayla had quickly learned that men from the outside liked their women a little more mysterious.  

The first part of the morning went by quickly.  On Saturday mornings especially, the market got busy fast.  Rowan even sold one of her puppies. A couple that had contacted her on her community’s website showed up.  They had a bullmastiff that had died finally from old age and were looking for another one. Rowan let them talk her down to $1,500 for a female brindle pup with the promise that they would get the dog fixed and that she wasn't going to be used for breeding.  Rowan tucked the money away in a special envelope in the glove box of the truck where she was keeping the money she planned to donate.  

As she shut the truck door, Ayla was suddenly at her side.  The younger woman tugged at her elbow and pointed out into the parking lot.  Two men had pulled up on motorcycles, parking them together in one space. They didn't look like most of the typical patrons of the farmer's market. Both were dressed in leather jackets and heavy biker boots.  One man headed around the front of the market while the other one stayed by the bikes and lit up a cigarette.

“He's cute,” Ayla whispered, as if the man was close enough to hear them and not halfway across the parking lot.  Rowan nodded her head in agreement with her friend. Then the man shrugged his leather jacket off and laid it over the seat of his bike.  She smiled. Just his arms alone made him worth staring at. Watching him suck at the cigarette that he had pinched between his fingers, Rowan felt the skin on her arms prickle up despite the heat of the day.  

“Roe, Ayla, I could use some help over here,” Rowan's mother called over to the girls.  The stand was starting to get overwhelmed with more people than she could assist at one time.  Rowan hurried over to help her mother, tossing one more longing glance over her shoulder at the man in the parking lot.  She forgot about the man as quickly as he had appeared. One of Rowan's favorite customers showed up at the cart. The young woman had her baby with her, secured to her chest with a colorful wrap.  While she wasn't ready yet for one of her own, Rowan just loved babies. She loved their chubby little fists, their gummy smiles, and their big curious eyes. But most of all she loved the pure white light that shined out of them.  All babies were full of love and sunshine.

This baby was big enough for some real food, so Rowan handed her a slice of a ripe peach.  The baby gripped the treat in her chubby fist and brought it to her mouth, sticky juice running down her tiny arm.  The woman's older child was allowed around behind the table to pet Lily the happy puppy. Rowan held the dog still while the little boy pet her, careful to keep the large puppy from jumping up and knocking him over.  His mother allowed him a few pets before she called him back. Rowan placed the food the woman was buying into a large brown paper bag, making sure to throw in an extra quart of peaches for the baby.  

Lily was wound up from her interaction with the child.  She whined and pulled at her leash. When that got her nowhere she jumped up on Rowan, scratching at the woman's legs and almost ripping her dress.  Rowan scolded the dog, using her hand to press Lily's butt to the ground in a feeble attempt to get the excited puppy to sit on her bottom and calm down.  The next thing Rowan knew the dog had lunged past her, snapping the well worn leash as she dashed off through the crowd.  

“Lily,” Rowan called out, her eyes wide with shock.  There really weren't even any dogs allowed at the market.  The owner allowed Rowan to bring the puppies because he knew she was raising money for charity.  And also because her mother touched his back and shined one of her beautiful smiles at the older man when she had asked him permission.  But if Lily scared anyone or made a mess, that little arrangement might be over in a real big hurry. Rowan darted out from behind the table and took off after her puppy.  Her dress swished around her legs as she moved as fast as she could without slamming into people.  

Lucky for her, Lily had not run too far.  Rowan figured she had been after the boy that had been petting her, but apparently the dog was after food.  Lily was wolfing down something she had on the ground and since she was in front of the pretzel stand, Rowan figured it wasn't too far fetched to assume the dog was eating a pretzel she had taken from someone.  And not just any someone. Rowan suddenly felt like she could feel her heart beating in her ears. The biker she had been admiring out in the parking lot was standing in front of the stand. His hand was open and empty and he was staring down at the naughty dog with a look of shock on his face.  

Rowan felt like her limbs were no longer attached to her body.  Before she knew what she was doing she was touching the man. Her slim fingers resting against the thick muscles of his bare arm.  She had the sudden urge to give his arm a little squeeze, just to see if he felt as strong as he looked. Rowan fought that urge and smiled at him instead.  

“I'm so sorry,” she told the man, making a lame attempt to apologize for Lily's extremely rude behavior.  Rowan leaned down and grabbed up what was left of Lily's leash. “Oh Lily,” she mumbled, secretly thanking Lily for being so naughty.  The puppy had given Rowan the perfect chance to talk to this man. Unfortunately, Rowan felt like her brain was suddenly unable to function properly.  Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth and all she could think about was how much more handsome this man looked up close. His eyes were the color of the sky after a rain and the blonde scruff on his chin was sprinkled with just enough white hairs to signify that he was a man and not just another silly boy like all the other silly boys she knew.  

“I'm sorry,” Rowan repeated, feeling more and more ridiculous as each second ticked by.  She was touching the man again, even though it wasn't really proper to be feeling the arm of a man who's name she didn't even know yet.  The man smiled at her. Not a wide toothy grin, but more of a shy hesitant smile. She felt like her heart might explode at any moment. “Let me buy you another pretzel,” she offered, suddenly remembering why she was talking to the man in the first place.  

Before the man could say anything, the guy who ran the pretzel cart spoke up.  “Don't worry about it Rowan,” he told her, “It's on me.” His voice reminded Rowan that she was in a crowded market.  The thoughts she was having about the man she was touching were not exactly G rated. Rowan snatched her hand back, forcing it down to her side when she would have much rather kept touching the man.  Maybe even stroking up his arm and over his shoulder to cup his face in her palm. After that her thumb would stroke over his lips and find out if they were as soft as they looked.  

Rowan remembered her manners and turned her attention to the man she knew that ran the pretzel cart.  What was his name? Her mind was still filled with the images she had of the man she had been touching.  She saw the man that ran the pretzel cart almost every week. He knew her name and she ought to know his, but nothing was coming to mind except more perverted thoughts about the man who's food Lily had stolen.  

``Thank you so much,” Rowan told the nameless pretzel man.  Instead of thanking him by name she gave him a big smile, which seemed to suit him just fine because he smiled back at her.  Before she could embarrass herself further Rowan hurried away from both the men, dragging Lily along behind her. It wasn't until she was sitting behind her booth, her breathing and heart rate finally back under control that she realized she never even asked the biker his name.