Image 3: The local consignment shop; Nadja did not make an appearance. (see lower passage)
We drove north to visit our relatives who lived in a small town, the kind of small that you see in movies or that you drive through on your way to your actual destination. It was quaint and it was old, like a majority of the inhabitants. In that way it felt like home, but these snowbirds were more pleasant. I'm going to move here crept through my mind repeatedly, unstoppably.
One of the shop owners on this street was my cousin's teacher from fourth grade, and neighbor, and also was the town veterinarian. Every person who passed by greeted us; that they had no idea I was a tourist and was completely out of my element made me want to live there more. My cousins have lived in this town their whole lives, my fascination with this welcoming made them laugh. I couldn't help but notice that there was something else special about this town. When we passed the consignment shop window I saw the first sign of it, and then I could hear the music start to play.
This small town had been infected with Jes Grew.
The dancing bears painted on the window were a dead giveaway. I have never interacted directly with a cartoon character but these bears with their jigs and their scarves had me convinced. For the rest of the stroll I couldn't help but look in the windows of each store, checking for kids bumpin' and grindin' and hootin' and hollerin'.
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