Three Coattailed Men

There were three of them, three tall men standing right before me. I imagined they thought I looked small, for it they were tall one of us must be small and I was the only other person nearby. I discussed with my mind for a moment, so brief they would not have noticed the lapse, on what they could be doing here.

“What are you doing here?” Perhaps my brief conversation with my mind was too brief, for after the words left my lips I wondered if they were far too sudden.

The three didn’t look at each other, and I supposed they knew exactly what they were doing. They said not a word.

I looked at the them, in suits and coattails. One had a top hat, the next white gloves and the third leaned softly on a cane. I could not at all fathom their appearance here in such clothing. Not only did the wind play around, for it was always windy here where the ferry’s came in, but the sun was beating down quite hard, and only one of them had a hat. Yet his head was not even holding it. He held it behind his back with one hand.

A ferry must have just arrived for I heard the deep tone of its horn. I, out of shock at the loud noise, turned suddenly to look, but not one of them turned their heads. I looked back to them, determined to stare them down.

“I’ll stare and I’ll stare and I’ll make you all move,” I muttered to myself.

So that’s what I did. I stared at the one with the hat, then the one with the gloves and then the one with the cane. Perhaps I could grab the hat, pull off the gloves and knock the cane, then they might move. But really, that seemed all a bit too rude. Though, I thought again, they were being rude just by staring at me, and they really oughtn’t deserve my politeness. I decided to have one last try at conversation.

“Excuse me,” I said to the one with the hat. “Shouldn’t you cover your head?”  

He didn’t move, or acknowledge I was there.

“Pardon me,” I said to the one with the gloves. “Aren’t your hands rather warm?”

There was not an ounce of a sound.

“Sorry,” I said to the one with the cane. “Isn’t you back sore from leaning?”

Not a single part of him wavered.

“Oh well I’m done.” I turned to storm away and leave the three men. As I did, I noticed something lying on the ground at their feet. I pulled something from my pocket, and let it fall by their shined shoes.

“Oh what a pretty girl.” The one with the top hat exploded.

“Yes yes, a very fine one.” The one with the gloves flapped.

“Indeed tis true tis true.” The one with the cane bobbed.

Three men looked down at me.

“You are three nice men.”

Having  found their secret, I turned and ran off, leaving the three buskers behind me, for another young girl to puzzle over.