The man turned around and I remember him saying,
“Thanks for picking up the tobacco. That was kind. You must be tired from
walking? You know the missus made a lemon meringue pie this morning. Come and
have a piece.”
Kind? I did it for money and not some charitable
reason. I remember feeling guilty. Throwing in the lemon pie was a dealmaker.
It was, and still is, my favorite pie! It felt like someone turned on a heat source
and I started to thaw. I followed the man into the house like a puppy dog
anticipating an obedience treat. I was no longer afraid.
We walked into a large dusty room, smelling oily,
and filled to the brim with what I thought was junk. There were bits and
pieces, tools, scrap metal, wheels, and coffee cans filled with nuts and bolts
and nails. It was visual overload with virtually no open space to place another
item. If anything broke, the man probably had the means to repair anything
using his stash of scrap. I began to imagine how to take disparate pieces of
stuff, put them together somehow to create something new. It reminded me of the
Erector set I received for Christmas.
But one item did stand out above the rest. In the
middle of the room was a working grandfather clock with sun and moon dials. It
was definitely not a scrap item as the time ticked quietly. When I asked him
where the clock came from, he changed the subject. It was another mystery
involving the old man who went on to tell me stories about the sun and the moon.
I loved science and math in school, and the room
with its tales about the solar system energized that side of my personality.
Would I be a scientist someday? Maybe I would figure out a way to get to the
moon and back. An hour ago, my imagination ran wild with scary thoughts. Now it
ran rampant with everything I could do or be as an adult. I had entered what
felt like a magical kingdom of possibilities.
The old man introduced me to his missus in the
other room. Her first name was Anna, and she had a welcoming smile. There was a
coal-burning stove, a bed with a down comforter, two armchairs, a sink with
running water, and a table with four chairs. With no electricity, kerosene
lanterns were used. Alongside one arm chair was a stack of magazines, decades
old.
On the table were three small pieces of lemon
meringue pie …
To Be Continued in the next blog
Robert Parlante
September 2016
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