Sunday, January 8, 2017

Qualifier

Molly was taking me around campus: "And there's the church and seminary;" "And there's the lighthouse museum;" "And there's sorority row." The houses that housed departments, the dining hall, it was small-town and old and lavish and simple. "Up there's where I lived," she said, "senior year. About a block." " They had to put a light in here," at an intersection, "because too many kids got hit." And there they were, these kids, inside their backpacks and hoods pulled up, braving against the nearby icy lake wind.

And I saw him outside the car window. "What is it?" she asked as I typed on my phone. "Nothing," I said, "an idea I just got." But really:

Are you back??

The tour continued. The bakery, the brunch, the music hall. "I've been up here once before," I was trying to make conversation, get back to normal. "A few years ago. I got ice cream." She named a place. "No." She named another. "No." And another. "No," I said, "that wasn't it."

***

He played with the creamer, building a tower, three ones tall, in different arrangements but there's only so many to be made.

"I'm here."

"Are you back?"

"I'm here."

It was a start. I reminded myself that very little is very good when it's starting out. Answers take patience. "OK." Acknowledgment, acceptance, building blocks toward progress. "Did you tell anyone?"

He opened a creamer and poured it in his mug. The second went in and then the third, until the patterned liquid flirted with spillage. He raised it, hands focused through the trembling, and brought it to his lips. He drank half. "I," he started as he set down the mug, "I didn't really think to."

"OK." Mine sat there, black and cooling. I wondered where all these diners got the same beige mugs.

The bells on the front door rang, a new man walked in. Stef jerked to the sound, eyes widening at whoever might be there. The violence of the motion and the sloshing of his drink all pointed to someone who did not want to be found. He followed the man with his eyes to a booth two in front of ours. When he was satisfied he turned to me and I asked, "Why did you come back?"

"I..."

The waitress saw his cup half-full and came to refill. She was unable to stop the flow after his hand darted out over the top, pouring hot regular over and through his fingers. "Oh my god!" she said. "I'm so sorry! Are you OK?!" His hand, still trembling, clutched the top of his common mug, fingers tight and shaking as he stared down at the table.

"We're fine," I said, after too much silence. She left unsure and I cleaned up with paper napkins.

It had been three years since he'd left with scarce goodbyes. Careful sentences filled with buzzwords: "work;" "world;" "money." I imagined it was those things that brought him back as well. There was never anything dark about him but always things unknown. And now here sat a much older version, as if each year for me was three for him, a decade passed between us. He had bags and greys and veins that showed. He wore a frayed green-colored jacket, which to me always rang out help.

Another man walked in, ring-ring, and sat at a booth two behind. "I have to go," he said. Even I have to admit that when the man saw Stef move to go, he seemed unsure that he wanted to stay. But things are placed easily in my head. I grabbed him by his well-worn arm. "It was good to see you," he said, and with that and a bell he was gone.

The waitress stopped by. "You sure he was OK?" I looked at the mug, the spots of coffee, the three empty creamers. And next to them, though I couldn't be sure, what looked like marks made from four fingernails. "Just the check, please," I said.

***

"It was built before the movie came out, obviously. But after that they remade it to try and make it feel like that. They threw a few big dinners, these feasts, lots of courses and tablecloths and candles. But after a while people just lost interest. It's kind of cool."

"Uh-huh," I said. A roll of the eyes got me to add, "I bet it's really beautiful inside. Do they let townspeople in?"

We drove along the lake, headed back for the highway. "I'll have to take you back sometime," Molly said, "and give you a proper tour. It's too cold right now. But maybe in the spring."

"Maybe." We came to a red light and she scowled. "I'm sorry," I said, "I really would like to see it. But it's hard for me to get as excited as you about a place I've never known. It's your great qualifier, but for me it's just another school."

"If it was yours you'd feel differently." I agreed with her.

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