Mary Clare was a clucking hen checking out storefronts, poking her beak and looking for bargains. Her kids, Mason and Jason, were betta fish swirling and sparring, as they followed their mom. Pearl rode her bike through the intersection. Mr. Jensen, the theatre teacher, a huge preening peacock crossed in front of her. Pearl swerved to avoid the high school teacher’s iridescent tail feathers. A corvette full of wolves in basketball jerseys howled at Pearl as she maneuvered around a peaceful dove pushing a stroller. She pedaled faster.

Pearl hitched her bike to the rack and hurried into the shop. Closing her eyes, Pearl took steadying breaths. Her world was spinning. It was a zoo of naked intentions, a jungle of personalities always parading in her face. She opened her big dark eyes slowly. The shop was painted lime green, fuchsia, and indigo. One side was retro dresses and chunky boots, and serving dishes kept company with records and cocktail shakers on the other side. In the center at a large wood table sat a shimmering lamp knitting a crooked scarf. The fussy owl who ran the bookstore was arranging hardbacks on a shelf in the back and an ancient crab was closely examining a cuckoo clock. Looking from the shop door to the customers to the table, Pearl bit her lip.

“Can you help me?” The lamp lady gestured with her knitting.

Pearl blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You look creative, good with your hands. I’m clueless.”

The girl sat down. Soon their heads were bent over the tangle of yarn. The owl brought them iced tea and snickerdoodles. The way his head swiveled and the way the lamp glowed up Pearl could see how they suited each other. The shop owner lamp checked out customers while Pearl captured the dropped stitches. Pearl felt cozy at the solid table in the quiet space with red wool running through her fingers. The afternoon ran down and Pearl people watched.

“You know I came here to get your help,” Pearl said around the last cookie. “But I think I got it.”

The lamp smiled. “Thank you. I was in the weeds. Here,” she thrusted a wooden case in my hands. “I found this and it was looking for the right person. Come back soon. I have to bind off some how.”

Pearl carried her art box home walking her bike and marveling on how she sees the world.