Tuesday, August 30, 2005

The Gauntlet

I was overfull with excess of everything.  I sat on a wooden chair with a straight back and a cushioned seat, and they came over and sat on either side of me.  They bore expressions of earnest concern and reserved skepticism.  The evening lay heavy on my lap.

The one turned toward me, placing her elbow on the table.

You know, we’ve got Jews here too.

She leaned in almost imperceptibly.

They bury their own.

She paused, briefly, respectfully.  Her face was wrinkled like recycled wrapping tissue.

So, she continued: you want some pie?

I, too, paused. 

What kind of pie?

The other responded immediately:

That’s okay, we’ll get you some of each. 

They returned with a plate bearing a quarter each of four different pies.  The matter was closed.