Part One —-
It was a broiling, hot August day in central Ohio. I was walking down a tree lined street, trying to keep up with my bargain hunting wife. Throughout this little town, all the sidewalks and street fronts, were lined with yard, garage, and estate sales of every size and dimensions. The sidewalks were full of happy, or at least eager shoppers, all looking for that one big or little something, that they never knew that they needed to achieve shopping nirvana. I was slowly walking up the sidewalk, trying to stay close to any shade available from the many trees that were standing along the edge of the walks, or on the lawns of the big, brick homes that were a large part of this neighborhood. Some of the houses had large front porches with loads of items assembled on the porches and lawns. Some just had a few tables under the towering trees that were on the curbside.
It was to one of these that I stopped for some reason to see what might be the deal of the day. Maybe it was because I noticed a couple books on one of the tables, so I stopped to look at them. There was a slim, older lady sitting on a chair behind one of the tables. There were no other shoppers at her tables, most were at the tables of her neighbors on either side of her. Maybe it was out of sympathy to show interest to her items, I don’t know, but I looked through one of her books. It was a colorful, over sized book about Paris, France. I had been in Paris once, many years ago and I decided to see if I recognized anything in the book, or if there was something to be of interest. The book was only a couple dollars, so I decided to buy it. The lady told me that she had at one time lived in Paris for a little while, right after she graduated from college. She was a French major and went there to possibly find a job teaching and do some library work on the side. As she talked, I got a better look at her. She was probably some where in her late 60s or early 70s, at least that was my guess. She got up from the chair and started telling me more about France and about this book. As she spoke, she seemed to become a little more vibrant, and her face lost any lines that had been there before. Her hair was reddish-gray and fell gently to her shoulders, she had brown eyes that seemed to sparkle now, and spoke in a clear, gentle voice. In spite of the heat of the day, I stood listening to her story and became interested and even asked her a few questions, which I would normally not do with someone that I didn’t know. She then looked over to one of her neighbors and said “Sandy, do you think you could watch my tables for a few minutes? I am going to get a drink from the house, for myself and this nice man.” Sandy gave her assent. Then the lady came around the table, and before I knew what was happening, she took my hand and led me up the big stone steps of her front porch, and towards the front door. I began to protest, and told her that she did not need to go into all the trouble. She only gripped my hand a little harder and insisted that it would only be a couple minutes and that I would be quite happy to get in out of the heat, if only for a few minutes. So up the steps we went. Her hand was soft, dry and warm. It felt more youthful than I imagined it might have felt.
We entered the front door of her house. I immediately felt a breeze from a fan that was standing in the middle of the parlor. It was a large oscillating fan that managed to cover quite a bit of the room. There were bookcases standing along two of the walls in the room. I saw that there was a rocker opposite the front door and this is where she deposited me. “Just make yourself comfortable and I will be out with the tea in just a jiffy.”
I relaxed on the rocker and resigned myself to a cup of tea and then a quick exit from the premises. She was soon back in the room with a tray holding a teapot and two cups. She put them down on a small coffee table and poured tea in both of the cups. She gave one to me and then took one for herself and sat across from me on a stuffed chair. “This is a special Oolong blend that I use only in the summer. It is quite refreshing as you will see. There is no need for cream and sugar, as it has a hint of both already blended in.”
She smiled at me and took a sip from her cup. “Do you like it?” I gave it a try, and decided that she was telling the truth. It really was quite refreshing and produced a very satisfying feeling through my whole body. The tea was quite good. I sat back in my chair and looked at her. “This tea is all that you say and more, thank you for taking the time to make it.” She then began to tell me a little bit about herself and her life. She spoke of her college days where she majored in French and library science. As she was speaking, her voice was sincere and calming as she spoke. I didn’t want to be rude, but I was thinking about how I could extricate myself from the house and politely take my leave. But, as she spoke, I felt myself getting a little drowsy and started to nod off. I struggled to keep my eyes focused on her, but instead , I dropped off for a moment. The next thing I remembered, was that I was walking out the front door with her and she was holding my hand again. As we went down the front steps, I noticed that the crowd of people that had been packing the streets, were all gone. There were no tables in front of her house any longer. She guided me to the left and as we began walking, she said to me: “I don’t remember if I ever said my name, but it’s Claudine. I never asked your name either.” I said “ Peter, but most people call me Pete. Also, what happened to all the people that were out here?” She laughed and just said “I guess I will call you Pete. I just wanted to take you for a little stroll through the neighborhood and show you some of the sights. After that, we can come back here and you will probably be on your way.”
copyright@2023 Bill Melnik