Tie-Dye Skirt

"It's only ten dollars," Carolyn thought to herself as she gazed at the peach and white tie-dye skirt on the sales rack in the state park gift shop. Buying the garment would cheer her up after being left behind on the boat tour, she told herself. It had been a long and hot drive from Cudjoe Key to the marine sanctuary only to be told that the passenger quota had been reached. She was not allowed to board the boat with the rest of the group.

"We don't have to go," her friend Eleanor insisted.

"No, it's fine,” Carolyn replied, observing the other people in her group shuffling ahead in the lineup, unconcerned about leaving her behind. She hadn't slept well at the guesthouse the night before. She would have stayed behind from the excursion to Key Largo if she hadn't promised to go.

"I'll take a stroll around the park while you’re gone," Carolyn called, as the group dispersed eagerly onto the boat. The lines were released from the wharf, and the boat glided away through the lush mangroves.

At least I got a new skirt out of it, Carolyn ruminated, leaving the gift shop. What to do now, she wondered. She wore the skirt after trying it on and purchasing it. The cotton felt cool and comfortable as she trudged down a shady path, clutching the park map. She was still shocked about being left behind. The attendant at the ticket counter wasn't even apologetic. "It’s our safety policy," she said in a nasal twang. "You’ll have to wait for the next tour."

A park ranger, leaning against a railing nearby, had smiled sympathetically when Carolyn was refused a ticket. Carolyn noticed him again outside. He sipped from a water bottle and gave a friendly nod.

"Did you come far today?" he asked, smiling.

"We drove from Cudjoe Key this morning," Carolyn answered. "But I’m from Canada."

The ranger's head was bald and gleaming on top. It suited his wide face and uplifted mouth.

There's a sand beach down the way," the ranger suggested, pointing to a sign. "A good place to sit, 'til your friends come back." His voice had a soothing tone.

"I'll check that out," Carolyn replied, the ranger's kindness touching her solitude. Perhaps the beach would be a good spot to eat the sandwich that she packed for the boat tour. She loved to watch the heavy-winged pelicans and diving cormorants. Maybe some small pleasure could be salvaged from this disappointing day.

"Thanks … for telling me." Carolyn gave the ranger a small smile.

As she treaded down the stone walkway, a uniform clad clerk swung the gift shop door open. "Excuse me, ma'am," she called to Carolyn. "May I see your sales receipt?"

"Sales receipt? For what? I didn't go on the boat tour," Carolyn sputtered, alarmed.

No ma'am, that skirt you're wearing—I need a proof of purchase for it."

"I didn't keep the bill," Carolyn shrilly replied, rifling through her bag. The tie-dye skirt suddenly felt like a sticky weight. The white and peach design seemed garish and conspicuous. Why had she kept it on?

"No, I don't have it," Carolyn confirmed in a panicked voice.

"I need a proof of purchase, ma'am," the shop girl insisted, lifting her chin.

Carolyn felt the raggedness of last night's poor sleep wash over her like a tidal wave as she rooted futilely through her bag. The trip to the park was a disaster. She should never have come. The long drive to Key Largo only to be refused admittance on the boat tour! Left behind, while the rest of her group sailed off. To top it off, practically accused of shoplifting! Would the park press charges? Coming here was a big mistake. She could be passing a peaceful day under the Tiki umbrella by the guesthouse pool.

"I saw her buy it," the ranger announced in a calm but commanding voice, replacing his hat and looking solid and official. Carolyn’s mouth opened as she looked at him. Her searching fingers stilled.

The salesgirl squinted at him. "Well … If you're sure." She shifted her gaze back to Carolyn, scanning the peach-and-white skirt from hem to waist.

"We have a lot of merchandise that disappears, ma'am, so we have to take precautions," she lectured. Carolyn's face was hot.

"If you purchase anything else, be sure to keep your sales receipt. Have a good day, ma'am. Enjoy your stay at John Pennecamp State Park." The girl turned around smartly, marched to the gift shop door, swung it open and disappeared inside.

Carolyn let her bag droop from her arm. She lifted her hand weakly toward the ranger with a small wave. He pushed his hat down, nodded with a slight smile and walked away. His stride was slow and steady. Pads of fat moved rhythmically around his waist under his tan shirt. His calves, beneath his knee length shorts, bulged. He was both hard and soft, kind and confident. As he grew distant, Carolyn wished she could hold onto his khaki-clad goodness, his gleaming bald head and wide brimmed hat. She watched him make his way down the stone path, under the palm trees, peaceful.