"The Greatest Discovery" Part Six A short story based on the WB Series, "Tarzan" By Felicity Disclaimer: I don't own any of this: the characters, story, series, or part of the idea. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.

Want it?: You can have it.. but I'd appreciate it.

John wandered through the store looking at various shoes, boots, slippers and other footwear. He wasn't impressed by any of it. Kathleen and Jane just watched silently as he made his way through the men's foot ware to the woman's side. He held up a pair of stilettos and made a horrible pained face. "You would wear this Jane?" She smiled, looking at the beautiful black patent leather shoes. "Yes, I would John, but not because they would be comfortable, but because they would make me look nice." John cocked his head to the side and spoke honestly. "You always look nice Jane, especially with bare feet." Jane blushed, but understood what he was saying. "It's the way that society looks John. Everyone wants to fit in to society somehow." He again cocked his head to the side and then smiled. "Do I want this as well Jane?" What was it about him that every time he spoke her name, butterflies began to flutter in the pit of her stomach? He was never trying to be sensuous or sexy, but every time she heard him utter her name, she couldn't help feeling a little taken by it. "To an extent John, you want to fit in so that you can survive, but you don't want to change completely so that there is none of you left." He straightened his head up and smiled at the two women. Kathleen was quite pleased with the way that Jane explained things to John, not making him feel as though there was something wrong with the person that he had become, only showing him that he could still grow. She really liked Jane Porter. John placed the stilettos back on the shelf and moved on. Jane had put her shoes back on once outside, but John remained barefoot. A salesperson neared him and then backed away, offering his services to the two women first. John saw the man sidestep him and did not understand. John stepped between the man and the women, standing only inches from the now frightened man. "Why do you not speak to me? I am the one shopping, not them?" His question was honest, the man spoke with a touch of a stutter. "I didn't realize, umm, sir." He tried to back up, but John kept the space between them closed. Jane put her hand on John's arm and gently tugged him toward her. "Please John. To him you look like a bum, a derelict. He doesn't know that you are a customer, the probably thinks that you are here to steal something." John was completely thrown off kilter by this statement and he turned to the salesman to ask him. "Is that right? Do you think I am here to steal?" The salesman backed away and didn't answer. He hurried to the back room, probably in search of his manager. Jane reprimanded John. "You have to learn about personal space John. People don't like other people that close to them." John turned to her with a wicked grin. "You do." He stated simply. Kathleen chuckled and again, Jane blushed. Yes, she did. After Kathleen and Jane explained to the manager what was going on, he apologized for his salesman and offered them a discount on a pair of shoes. John finally sat down to try a pair on. The manager knelt in front of him and tried to help him. John just stared. "I can do this myself." He stated. The manager, an man in his mid fifties, balding and chubby, smiled at the young man. "I know you can son, I just would like to assist you. But if you do not want me to help, I will wait over there." And he pointed to the area with the cash register. John liked the idea of having a choice in something, so he chose to let the man stay. The woman stayed away, knowing that this was the only way that John was going to be able to learn about the world, by being in it. John bent forward to speak to the man. "I don't like shoes." The older man smiled, staring down ad John's dirty feet. "I see that, but winter is coming and your feet won't like the cold." He was right of course, but John hated to concede on this issue. "What do you think I should get then?" John asked out right. The kind man stood up, walked over to a shelf of shoes, picked up a couple of different ones and came back to John. These are good, they are comfortable and not too confining. One pair was a very soft pair of leather shoes, very dressy black shoes, the other was a pair of brown soft suede moccasins. John tried both pairs on, and even though he wasn't fussy on shoes, these would do. He also spotted a pair of sandals, and asked if he might try them. Of course the manager obliged him, and John really liked the feel of them, open, but something on the bottom. Kate smiled at John as she approached. Why don't you take all three John. You might need them all at some time.

The apes were all covered with hair, but Tarzan was not. His skin was tanned, but very white compared to them. He had seen the people in the villages as he watched them travel through the jungle, he had seen the hunters as they also invaded the territory. All of them had some sort of covering on. In earlier years, Tarzan had not cared that he looked so different from the animals, but now as he was coming into his adolescence, he was feeling very different and didn't like that. He tried covering himself in the animal skins from his kills, but they were too warm for anything other than sleeping. He had tried covering himself with the leaves, but they just died and fell. He had gone back to the place where his family had been and found the things that he had saved from them. His father's clothes hadn't fared well in the crash, most had been burned, as had his and his mother's, however a few things did survive. He found a pair of walking shorts and a shirt. He put them on and although they did not fit well, he was covered, and felt better. The animals laughed at him, but he didn't care, he was covered now. He wore those clothes until they wore thin, becoming just a bit of material covering him where he needed to be covered.