Forgotten Wolf

1 Market Day

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Just breathe.

One foot in front of the other.

You can do this.

Normally I wouldn't be at the Saturday morning market; my friend Trish takes care of selling, I just grow the produce. Today, however, she phoned me up with a last-minute special order for a very important customer.

I repeat my mantra for the millionth time as I pull my truck into the bustling farmers' market parking lot. It's a beautiful, warm spring day and the people have come en masse. My heart starts to race as I scan the dense crowd.

With a final deep breath, I put my pickup truck in park and get out. Instantly the drone of the crowd engulfs me; vendors shouting their wares, customers calling out questions, and the general dim rumble that comes with any crowd.

Already I'm feeling uneasy, so I stack the crates, hoping I can manage to make it all in one trip and get out fast. I flip my long brown braid back over my shoulder and grab the well-worn handles on the bottom crate.

The crowd swallows me up as I make my way to the far side where I know Trish would be set up. At a whopping 5'3" tall I'm easily lost in a crowd, nearly everyone is taller than me.

My heart starts to race as all of the sights, smells and general energy starts to overwhelm me. Someone bumps into me from behind, knocking my Jenga crate stack off balance. In slow motion, I watch as the top crate falls. My heart stops, fearing the worst but it's caught before it hits the ground.

"I'm so sorry," a lady says before she dashes off back to her waiting friends.

Stunned, I turn back to the man who caught my top crate. His crystal blue eyes hold me captive before I break the spell and drop my gaze.

"Th-thanks," I stammer. "You can toss it back on top and I'll be on my way."

"Looks like you're heading my way," he says with a soft laugh. "I'll give you a hand."

He has a kind smile and a grounded, even feel to his energy that's instantly calming. I spot the familiar vendor's lanyard hanging around his neck and realize he must be one of the new ones.

"Thanks, I'm just heading over to Trish," I mumble and try to set off through the crowd. No one sees me and it's slow going as I try to work my way through the masses. He sees my slow progress and takes the lead.

The sea of people quickly part for him, and why wouldn't they? He's easily over six feet tall and his plain white t-shirt does nothing to hide his muscular physique. I fall in step behind him and before long he's cut our path to Trish.

"Sorry, got to go," he apologizes, sweeping his dirty blond hair back off his forehead. With a quick nod to Trish he takes off to a booth a few stalls away.

"Thank God you made it in time!" Trish says, wrapping me in a hug after I set my crates down. Unruly tendrils of her auburn hair slip free of her ponytail, warning how busy she's been.

Her energy today is chaos contained but boiling over; she lives for this atmosphere, talking and laughing with strangers like they're old friends. Me, not so much. I'm more at home in the woods or garden, and I'm pretty sure I understand animals more than people.

"I know this isn't your thing, but this might just be what we need to seal the deal." Her blue-green eyes dance with excitement as she takes in my haul. She scans the parking lot quickly and starts to reorganize her boxes.