June 30^th, 2008

 

Two women, two men sit at a table.  The scene - as in an old style American café, WWII vintage; all four people look to be in their early twenties, all but one are smoking cigarettes; the lone exception, one of the men, puffs lightly on a pipe.  A checkered tablecloth covers the table; which is adorned by a red, ceramic rooster, its purpose unclear, and a glass ashtray full of butts. Two salt & pepper shakers sit conspicuously close to the rooster, while music, old style country-western twang - plays (somewhere) although lightly, just barely heard.

 

Their general appearance, i.e. haircuts, hairdos and dress, accent the 2^nd World War look, my guess, mid to late 1940’s. The aroma of eggs & bacon, along with strong black coffee drift eerily from the scene to me, and as their faces slowly come into focus, I can’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation.

 

Man smoking the pipe: it is more his attitude rather than appearance that is striking to the casual observer, for, although he has an athletic build and distinctive good looks, it is as if his very presence stills the air around him.  He looks at the other man as he asks - How long will it take to get to California?

 

Other man: possessing a darker complexion than the pipe smoker, and a fuller build along with a certain smoothness that one is only born with, turns to face the pipe smoker - as he answers - We should be there by Wednesday night.

 

Lady next to the other man: beautiful long black hair, gently hanging on shoulders thrown back in a permanent ‘don’t mess with me’ attitude.  Sporting a short khaki jacket with a plain white blouse underneath, black Levi’s, and black western boots, she looks almost out of place, as if from another time.  There’s still time for you guys to go, she says, to the lady next to the pipe smoker.       

                                             

 

Lady next to the pipe smoker: her hair is shorter than the other woman’s, but no less beautiful, and the fiery black eyes speak volumes of those who came before.  The resemblance is remarkable, and one realizes quickly that they are sisters; the major difference being - this woman is pregnant, very much so.  As she stands – I recognize her even before I hear the words I knew she would say. I hardly think traveling in this condition is advisable, do you Ri?

 

Of course - it is my mother, and the puzzle completes itself almost in mid-air. The man smoking the pipe is my father, a life-long pipe smoker; the other woman is my Aunt Ri; the man with her is my Uncle Harry, and the date is June 30^th, 1948. Though I’d seen pictures before, seeing these people, my parents, uncle and aunt, at such a young age completely ‘throws me.’ The obvious fact that my mother is pregnant dates the entire scene, but when coupled with the café at the railroad station, along with my mother’s sister and husband preparing to board a train for California – it’s clear that I’m looking at a scene that has been described to me many, many times, during the course of my life – the moment when I first made myself known.  For while my Aunt and Uncle are a mere thirty minutes from boarding a train to California, I’m less than 4 hours away from my ‘grand entrance’ into the world.

 

As family legend has it - My parents had driven my Aunt and Uncle to the station earlier that morning; their train was leaving at 7 am; it was a tense time for the two sisters, for they had never been far apart in their young lives, and were now on the verge of being separated by nearly two-thousand miles. 

 

Shortly after a breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast and coffee, my mother had suddenly went into labor. Although I was the cause of it, I had no idea then, nor now – exactly what happened.  I presume her water broke or something like that.  In any event, carting her out of the train station, and to the hospital - instantly became the main focus for my father.  I can vividly hear my mother telling this part of the story, how she was so upset that she couldn’t tell Ri ‘good-bye,' and incredibly I see the exact scene, with my own eyes, from the back seat of my father’s 38 Ford.  I see Ri - so clearly, her lipstick is smudged just a little on the left side, her eyes are flashing in the morning sun, and a gleeful smile plays havoc with her face as she leans in the window of the car, telling Mom to ‘go have the kid, don’t worry about anything.’ But Ri,’ my mother is saying;  ‘Write me a letter’ Ri says, and suddenly vanishes from the window, along with the entire scene.  It is then, in that nothingness’ - that I hear a strange but familiar sound, a beeping.

 

Though I’ve heard this story recanted many times over the years, never before had I dreamed it.  That is – until now.  Becoming fully awake, I realized that the ‘beeping’ was coming from my cell phone - by the bed; - I had voicemail. With the dream bouncing around in my head, I punched in the code to activate my voice mail. Listening to the messages, it appeared that they were all several days old.  I slowly began working through them, deleting them as I went, until I got to the last one.

 

It had been left at 7:20 this morning. 

 

It was from my father.

 

Aunt Ri had died at 7 a.m.

 

She was 83 years old.

 

We’ll all miss her.

 

Maybe Mom will write her a letter.

 

Ice at his Desk:

 

As I had done my last spell check, & saved it to ‘my documents,’ I was now ready to post my latest blog article, titled 30 June 2008.

 

Within seconds of ‘hitting’ the submit button – I felt Leo’s presence behind me.

 

Leo: it’s about your Aunt, eh?

 

Me: you know it is.

 

Leo: your parents and Ri at the train station?

 

Me: Leo, tell me … why am I flashing back?

 

Leo: it’s a phenomenon of novice parallel world travelers, such as you.

 

Me: so, she’s in another world now?

 

Leo: a parallel world

 

Me: You know their train left a 7 a.m. that morning?

 

Leo: Yeah, and she died at 7 this morning.

 

Me: Why all that?

 

Leo: no particular reason just happens that way.

 

Me:  So … how come there’s not some big announcement?

 

Leo: Announcement? Do you really think anyone would believe it?

 

Me:  some, maybe.

 

Leo: We’d have a hard time keeping people in line.

 

Ice:  mass suicide?

 

Leo: there would be isolated pockets of it I’m sure.

 

Me: and that would be a problem?

 

Leo: it’d upset the balance.

 

Me: What about all the different religions, different beliefs?

 

Leo: What about them?

 

Me:  The fact that you have all these different people saying they have the answer - the key to the door of heaven?

 

Leo: That’s not a problem.

 

Me:  but it’s all a lie.

 

Leo: I wouldn’t say that.

 

Me: you wouldn’t?  Why because it’s necessary?

 

Leo:  it’s necessary, yes.

 

Me:  why?

 

Leo: it’s the way things are, that’s all.

 

Me:  so… we don’t know because if we did – we wouldn’t exist?

 

Leo:  it would be a major distraction for sure, but as you ‘now’ know – it doesn’t matter because in the end we are all introduced to the next world, and then, everything is fine.

 

Me: the end justifies the means right?

 

Leo: it is what it is.

 

Leo:  You going to post the article?

 

Me:  yeah..

 

 

 

The Morning after Posting; Ice at the Coffee Shop – sitting with Preacher Dan.

 

PD – So.. Ice, what are up to today?

 

Ice – going to a funeral later today.

 

PD – oh, sorry to hear that.

 

Ice – yeah, my Aunt died on Monday, they’re having her funeral this afternoon.

 

PD – was she a member of the church?

 

Ice – no, she was like me.

 

PD – oh that’s too bad, an atheist?

 

Ice – I’ve told you before PD, I’m not an atheist I’m an agnostic.

 

PD -  same - same Iceman.  You have to be a believer to enter the kingdom of God.  I just hope that someday you’ll see the light.

 

Ice – yeah – "rave on cat shit – someone will cover you up."

 

PD – what was that, I didn’t hear what you said?

 

Ice – nothing

 

PD – (gets up with a disapproving look on his face and walks away)

 

Ice – (sits alone and stirs his coffee)