Current Shareware 1994 January/SHAR194.ISO/articles/s_m1193.zip/MAYA

Text File | 1993-10-31 | 13KB | 234 lines

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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