My sister and I found ourselves in a city I once lived in when I was much younger. I was not born there, but lived there somewhere in my 25's to 45's.
How we now came to be in this city, I don't know..
At first, I didn't even realize it was the same city until I began to recognize buildings, streets and shops. I pointed out a building I had lived in. I could tell it had been renovated. From that building I would walk up the street to catch the bus downtown to where I worked.
It was mid-afternoon and before we reached the counter, a woman busy doing something behind the counter, looked up and said, all we have is rocks and bones. At least that's what I thought she said. So I repeated it with a question mark.
The display case was empty. There were a few miscellaneous items behind her on separate shelves. Perhaps she had said, I had lots of scones.
Feeling the need to beat the mad rush of latecomers, I immediately said, we'll take everything you have left. I was longing for the taste of something made fresh as my memories of this city were also being refreshed.
After paying for the items, I reached into the bag and grabbed a long bun that was thick and fluffy. In doing so I was laying claim to this treat. I pulled the bun apart into three layers. I was now functioning on auto-memory. This can make three sandwiches, I said, as visions of deli meat danced in my head.
Into the front area walks this guy from somewhere around the corner in a back room or back door of this bakery. I immediately recognized him and was surprised and delighted by my instant total recall. This guy was tall, with an almost squarish Herman Munster head. He still had that trademark thick black mustache. He must have also recognized me. We came near to each other. I pointed to him while touching my finger to his chest and said, rather loudly and excitedly, now this guy bakes some incredible stuff!
He was the baker of a shop I patronized nearly every day on my way to and from work. His pastries and savories were that damn good, invoking Willy Wonka type marvelous dreams. I led myself into these temptations so much as part of my daily breadth of life, I had to make a few changes to my personal version of the Lord's Prayer. I spent a small fortune there.
My sister interrupted and said, we need to get going.
He was now moving about quickly like he was on a sugar high. He asked us to wait and he'll be right back. I asked how long it would take. He said he lives close by and it won't take long. He disappeared.
His sister was slightly shorter than me and had not said much from the moment he first walked in. She was now just standing there watching him silently, lovingly, patiently, compassionately, admiring his re-found joy.
I got the sense that they both were operating bakeries at the same time while I lived there. Yes, the city was busy enough to support two bakeries that were just a handful of blocks apart. For some reason I never traveled in the direction of her bakery, but if I did, I must have liked the other bakery so much, I didn't give other bakeries a second look. Why tamper with a good relationship?
We didn't ask any questions.
Today, he was the proverbial changed man, re-energized like a vivified resurrected spirit.
As the three of us were sitting there waiting, I thought to myself, this guy hasn't aged a day. I was feeling my age and remembering that when I lived here I felt much younger than this guy, but now the tables have turned, for both us, several times in this lifetime, now twice in the same day.
Thinking I was playing it safe, I quietly asked my sister if she thought they were Lithuanian. In the background of my eight-track mind, I was thinking, the two of them look like they came from a group who retained features from their Egyptian transition. I figured they were not of the branch of Gyptians later called Gypsies. Neither did I think the Greek branch was a possibility. Also, because neither of them behaved in a chosen one way, they were definitely not of the foolish branch now called Jewish. All these thoughts happened in a few blinking instants. To my question, my sister answered, Yeah.
I knew nothing about Lithuania, it just came out my mouth as if shot through a turret.
The two of them had thick black hair, black eyes, darker skin, not brown or black, but not white. I finally recognized his sister was not only gorgeous, her beauty was increasing in-sight. This was the same woman I saw when I walked in the door, but recognized neither of these facts. When I walked in she seemed tired, rushed and somewhat disappointed that she did not have enough of a selection for us, another customer. She had the kind of beauty that required no makeup, no amendments, no frillyness.. She projected a gentle, soft, caring demeanor, the kind of beauty that slowly creeps into your consciousness the longer you are around that type of person.
Endings Into Beginnings
I switched back to the original version of the Lord's Prayer.I thought about how, without planning, we ended up in a city I once lived in, ended up in the same small section where I had my apartment, ended up passing by a bakery, a type of store that I relished being able to indulge in, ended up in a bakery operated by the sister of a baker that was the only one I patronized for years. I also ended up meeting him again in another bakery just as we were about to leave. We also ended up being treated with consideration by the baker, her assistant and like special guests by him, just because that's who they were and because I didn't hold back with my open honest appreciation for his baking craftsmanship. He might have wanted to return the favor for my years of patronage, and also for remembering and reminding him of one of his true loves.
I guessed he had been out of business for quite some time, and had not experienced the satiating satisfying joyous delight of creating and customer appreciation.
This meeting of spirit-souls, perhaps was not all because of a bad luck joke told on the street. It was definitely a revival of something for multiple souls, something that never grows old, even though sometimes memories and energies run low, become obscured by the recent, fade into shadows that silently naggingly follow, even the softness of their steps still echo loudly in souls left fallow.
Before he finished, we both dozed off, only to be awakened by an array of fresh treats reminding us the very best things are paid for in advance. Our contribution is to live like decent beings who respect the inherent rights of creation and the hand-me-down privileged rights of creating.More is rising, meeting road trip travelers on Sankofa pathways.
