The Girl with the Pearl Earring

I enjoy shopping in the small stores and kiosks that are close to the docks. Touristic is the word the locals use to describe them. I had toured a small shop full of merchandise from China, one of those shops where every shelf is full of so many things that a person begins to get claustrophobia after twenty minutes or so. Back out on the street again, and waiting for my sisters, Wyona came up to me and said, “Did you see the pearls there? A good price.”

I slipped back in to find a cardboard with pearls tucked right by the cash machine. The pearls were in rows, not well matched and only £1. “Wyona, this can’t possibly be true – pearls for the equivalent of $1.60.”

“Well, look at them again,” she said. “You are seeing pearls from China.”

Fine. I bought the biggest pair and have been wearing them ever since.

. That is, until Rebecca and I took a day trip to London to do errands. I felt one fall just as we were getting off the tube at Oxford Circus.

“Quick, see if you can find it,” Rebecca said.

I only knew to take off my hat, fold my body over, shake gently and hope the pearl would drop on the seat before I had to get off of the train.

Bingo.

I am more careful now with the earrings. Until today, that is, when Rebecca and I took a fast grocery run. Well, there is no fast grocery run when you have to walk to the store and trail two shopping carts behind you. But there we were – me, breathlessly walking behind her, trying to beat the clock, since it is always good to do more, rather than less in a morning.

Could we get back in time for her 11 am appointment.

That is when I lost the pearl earring for the second time.

"Quick I heard it fall,” Rebecca said. This time I dropped to the floor by the grocery check-out, with no shame. Oh, for a split second I wondered what other shoppers would think about me running my hand of the floor, all the while taking out my other earring and placing it on the tile to see what I was looking for.

Johannes Vermeer
The Girl with the Pearl Earring
 "the Mona Lisa of the North"

When I looked up I saw five women’s heads above me, all checking the floor

I wonder if the other girl with the pearl earrings ever lost one of them?for me – looking for the lost pearl.

The whole point is not about finding the pearl, but it seems I always have to find it on the run. After hand sweeping the floor, there it was by my knee.


I wonder if the other girl with the pearl earrings ever lost one of them?

Looks to me as though she only has one.