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MAYA
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1993-10-31
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John's Diner░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░"Virtual Perceptions"░░░░░░░░░By Lucia Chambers
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Alfie delicately nibbled on Mayah's big toe. Mayah didn't have any
feeling left in that toe so it didn't matter, but she giggled anyway
at the thought of being tickled by a bird.
"Alfieeeeee" she cooed, "you little devil; you sweet bad bird."
Mayah's face contorted into a thousand moist wrinkles, a dimpled
chin and blackened smile; Mayah rarely smiled. She swatted at the
bird with her other leg and he scurried backwards about a foot, then
came forward again. "Vultures, wakin' me up," she crowed.
Mayah slipped off the park bench and stood forward on the balls of
her numb feet. She bent sideways just a little, and stretched her
aching back.
Then she began her rounds. First, Fourteenth Street, her best
territory, for breakfast. The pails in front of the "Cafe Express"
and the subway entrance usually contained partial cups of steaming
sweetened coffee, bagels smeared with melted butter, pieces of
sugary donuts, and best of all, bits of scrambled eggs on rolls with
plenty of salt and pepper. Mayah collected as much as she possibly
could into her shopping bag, then found and tucked a copy of the
Wall Street Journal under her arm.
Mayah secured her stash into her shopping cart, and headed for the
fire hydrant on the corner of Second and Thirteenth Streets to
refill her thermos, and to run cool water over her red and swollen
knuckles. Some intuitive feeling nagged at her; she felt lucky or
something. Mayah wandered south for a few blocks and then stood
still, lost in thought. Then she began to work westward on Ninth
Street, an area she usually saved for her lunchtime rounds.
The first pail contained the usual assortment of greasy newspapers,
wax papers, paper cups, cans, chewing gum, and assorted wrappers.
The second pail turned up a half of a pepperoni; an amazing find,
but then, the pail was fairly close to a very fragrant Italian deli.
Mayah held the pepperoni close to her breast for just a second, and
then quickly shoved it down into the bottom of her shopping bag.
Mayah's second pail was located in front of a ritzy apartment
building on Fifth Avenue a block from the entrance to Washington
Square Park. The doorman didn't usually allow Mayah to search the
apartment's garbage, but this time he was nowhere in sight. Again,
Mayah felt lucky, and with one eye on the apartment building
entrance, she dug her arms into the pail.
Mayah deftly examined the can with her fingers, and then extracted a
velvet box from deep within the papers and rubble and shoved it into
her right coat pocket. She looked around just to be sure that
no-one had seen her stash this treasure, wiped off her hands, and
walked home.
It was a beautiful red box and Mayah felt special just for having
it. It reminded her of the velvet-covered pews in The Little Church
Around the Corner, where the priest had promised her a hot meal if
she ever needed one - but not a home, no, though she longed to sleep
upon the red velvet benches. Her hands shook as she opened the lid.
Mayah's mouth formed a large O and her eyes watered at the sight of
the contents. There were two perfect little diamond earrings in
that red velvet box, and Mayah had never seen such perfectly
natural, earth-formed beauty, such decadent sparkle and rainbowed
fire, in all her forty-three years on this planet.
"Mayah, got the paper already?" Bernie tossed the Journal onto the
bench and then sat down and stretched his feet out in front of him.
He stared straight ahead and said, "The fares are going up again.
Mayor's in a heap of trouble. My grandson must be seven by now. I
already had breakfast but don't mind if you got any extras? I tell
you it's gonna be a cold winter this year, and the benches'll empty
out, mark my words...."
Mayah quickly shoved the box into a paper bag, sat up straight and
faced her old friend. She fingered her greasy hair and twirled it
back around her ears, off her face. "Bernie. You call me MaryAnn
now. MaryAnn is my name."
"Well! I never knew. Should'a known, Mayah, I mean MaryAnn. You
been Mayah for a long time, so why you changing it now?"
"MaryAnn is my real name. I was Mayah for awhile, but now I'm
MaryAnn again."
"Shore," Bernie mashed one knee with his left hand and smiled,
"MaryAnn's a pretty name. I'll call you that if you'll be wanting
me to. Say, what you been up to, girl? Your eyes look different."
Mayah no longer saw the city; what she saw was beyond the city.
Mayah's cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled like the sunlight
playing upon the waters in her mind's eye. Mayah imagined herself
strip off her old cloth wraps and the plastic bags covering her
sneakers, then untie and step out of sneakers, socks, and grey
cotton dress. Mayah felt the loose skin on her forearms tighten and
the lumps around her knees melt, then evaporate. Her arthritic
knuckles relaxed and straightened to reveal long, youthful fingers
and supple joints. Mayah closed her eyes and dove off the pier, a
perfect graceful arc, arms first and hands enclosed in prayer, and
then slice the cold water. Mayah smelled the seaweed and barnacles
and heard the barges sound low calls to their neighbors and treaded
water for a moment, admiring the way the golden sunlight reflected
in the beads of water on her forearms. Rainbowed droplets from
heaven, a refreshing renewal, her body became a temple of cool
emeralds and diamonds. Mayah listened to the water lapping around
her neck and arms, and smiled.
Alfie spoke to her from the dock: "Mayyahh. You are a gem, a
ruby... in the rough!" Mayah was startled from her reverie and
focused her attention on the dock, but now the bird was gone. She
wasn't sure Alfie had ever been there at all, yet the words echoed
in her mind as though spoken a hundred times. Mayah shook her head.
"Oh, nothing much, Bernie. Have a bagel." Mayah smiled.
"Thanks. Listen, I saw Roger the other day, and he says there's a
new place opened up what has really good bagels. I been meaning to
go over there. You want to go with me?"
Mayah almost blushed. "Bernie you old fool, you're asking me to
lunch?"
"It's a diner, sort of. Open twenty-four hours but Roger says it's
only open to 'friends' during the night if you get my drift. I can
buy some coffee, got quarters right here." Bernie stuck his hand
into his old plaid trousers and jangled some change around.
Mayah drifted for a moment, savoring the word "drift." She listened
to the water lapping against the nearby pilings and the long, low
tone of a barge. Still no sign of Alfie. She thought about the
velvet box.
"MaryAnn? Hullo? Let's go now, okay? Come with me to the new
diner."
"All right, Bernie. I don't walk so good no more, so go slow."
Bernie offered Mayah his arm, which she grasped with both of her
own, and then she looked back at her bags and shopping cart.
"Wait, I have to get something." Mayah dug her left arm deeply into
the paper bag and pulled the red velvet box into the sleeve of her
sweater. She tucked it up high on her forearm, where it wouldn't
loosen and fall out. Then she grasped Bernie's arm again, and they
walked, a friendship in a concrete sea, they clung to each other
over potholes and down curbs, and around cracks and chips in the
sidewalk; past bus stops and around signs, away from staring
children and doormen, and slowly made their way the few blocks
uptown to the diner.
Mayah was exhausted when they arrived and insisted on using the
ladies' room, if the owners wouldn't throw her out first? Bernie
opened the door for her.
The first thing Mayah noticed was the smell. She smelled peanut
butter soup, something she hadn't tasted since she was a little
girl. Peanut butter soup with toast points, and honey for dipping.
Then she smelled the onion rings - fresh, greasy, fragrant and juicy
onion rings, and watched their steam rising off someone's plate on
the bar. She swallowed hard, spotted the door to the ladies' room,
and began walking toward it. On her way there she identified the
aromas of coffee, and fresh orange juice, sugary pastries, fresh lox
and whitefish, smoked salmon, and so many delicious foods being fed
to so many smiling mouths she nearly passed out for the joy in the
knowledge that she would be here, tomorrow morning, emptying out the
garbage pails. First thing.
Cosmo watched Mayah over his shoulder while he preened the down on
his back. He swept his head back and forth, pulling and arranging,
tossing feathers into place until he gleamed. Then he rushed to
open the door for her.
"Alfie? What are you doing here? They allow birds in here?"
"Cosmo. I live here, Mayah. I belong to the owners. Everyone here
calls me Cosmo."
"You can really talk? I'm dreaming again."
"I'm a parrot, MaryAnn. Talking is one of many things I do. Here,
go inside and wash up. Put on any special jewelry you own, too."
Mayah eyed Cosmo suspiciously. "You don't know what you're talking
about you stupid old bird."
Cosmo turned and was heading back to Bernie, to make sure he had
fresh water and two menus, when John stopped him near the bar. "Are
these people your friends?" John's eyebrows were raised in wonder.
Cosmo quickly replied, "They're actors, playing a role. It's called
"persona." People do it all the time, whether they intend to, or
not."
"Oh." John absently filled a salt shaker and watched the door to the
ladies' room. "But they're old street people, Cosmo. Can they
pay?"
No-one recognized Mayah at first. When she emerged from the ladies'
room, she appeared to be a shy twenty-year-old, with glossy dark
hair piled high on her head, radiantly scrubbed face, a leopard
scarf wrapped rakishly around her throat and tied down one arm.
Another, black silk scarf was tied around her slim waist, and she
stood there tall in high heels, diamonds sparkling in her earlobes.
Ruby, who looked oddly short, pushed her forward into the room.
"Get some breakfast, Hon. We'll talk later." Ruby grinned, noticed
how low to the ground she'd suddenly become, and quickly sat down at
the closest table. She sniffed and said to Robert McKay, whose
breakfast had been so rudely interrupted, "I'm getting old. Life is
depressing. I can't afford lifts and tucks except from the
drugstore, and the popsickle sticks are giving me a rash. I wish I
had an ass, but I lost it ten years ago when my figure gave in to
gravity. Gravity. The world sucks. I ...."
Robert stopped chewing and glared at her. "Ruby, shut up. You're
ruining your persona. Even sitcoms get replacement actors, you
know."
Meanwhile, MaryAnn kept touching her earlobes and grinning at the
fresh ice in her waterglass. A blue waterglass, just like in the
movies. Aqua. The water was crystal clear, too, no cigarette ashes
in it. No gum or lipstick on the glass.
And Bernie god bless him, was swooning over his coffee. "Good
coffee, huh?" he said over and over again, loudly slurping,
stirring, and busily adding sugar every few minutes.
Cosmo preened for a few more minutes and thought about perception.
He concluded that it was a very personal thing.
-end-
Copyright (c) 1993 Lucia Chambers