Hand hovers over the summer roll, which I’ve eaten on every trip through Kahului. She must have sensed my hesitation. A woman dressed in all parts of a leopard grabbed my arm. Warm, nothing like her soulless wide rimmed shades.
“These are just wonderful!”
I’ve always found it incredibly inconvenient talking to people with shades. Despite the fear which courses through my body during eye contact, I cannot condone sunglasses in the absence of the sun.
“But you have to get it with the sauce.”
I could have told her that I have had this very same summer roll approximately 156 times on my weekly trip to the temple. Instead I said,
“Thank you.”
It’s important to be a student at times. Her hand landed on my arm like a reactive seatbelt and pulled me in close.
“Make sure to unwrap the plastic carefully.”
I imagined there was worry in her eyes but her lips trembled with excitement and a wide smile. What I saw was why I stayed. Two wide streaks of magenta lipstick across her teeth. Due to my cowardice and heavy lie of omission it was my duty to allow her to play the role of teacher.
She continued,
“The plastic here reacts to the humidity. It can make itself one with the rice paper, and you can swallow it too easily.”
Her nails were the reusable press ons from sally’s or wallgreens or longs also known as CVS. Her thumb was pressing against a vein and it was detaching I readieded my left hand to catch it just in case.
She continued,
“It happened to me, I was driving and got a piece of plastic this long - ”
She released her grip on me - physically. Mentally I was still ensnared. And spiritually I was curious about what all this could possibly mean. The blood returned to the pale imprints on my arm She stretched her fingers the length of a leaf of ivy. She grabbed my shoulder.
“It took so long to get the plastic out, you have no idea.”
I caught a glimpse of her eyes when the fluorescent lights moved across her face. There was the opposite of peace swimming around her eyes.
“Where are you from?”
“I live here.”
“Oh you are a odd, odd, curious boy.”
The spiritual purpose of this moment was rearing its head and I was in fact curious. Recently I had been battling with a warring split of desires.
GOD PLEASE PLEASE SEE ME GOD PLEASE PLEASE LOOK OVER THERE
I had been trying to kill both fighters in this battle. To waterboard their voices in the acceptance that I cannot tell God what to do. And in the aisle, God was seeing me and looking over there more than ever before.That said I had no words to respond as is the case when looking into the wide eyes of God. Rude and wild and loving, as nature made them.
“All of the men I’ve ever loved have been like you -” She lifted her hands and began painting the air in front of me. “With pale golden skin and the short afro hair, oh but I couldn’t love-love them. Daddy was a bigotist, or bigoter or is it just bigot? But my son he is in Seattle. He teaches boys like you, they can’t read and I am so proud the racism ended with him.”
I grabbed the summer roll ready to leave.
“Enjoy.”
“Thank you.”
“You really have a wonderful smile.”
She walked away. I returned the summer roll to his brothers, some loves - and some lunches - just aren’t meant to be. I still don’t know what God was trying to show me - only that I was wide awake when it happened.
I felt ensnared the whole way through!
What an interesting and curious adventure. Thanks!