or there was nowhere else to go

             I stood in line at an Asian café, trying to make sense of the pictures and the characters on the menu board behind the counter.  Ahead of me, two women discussed their own selections in a language I had never heard before.  Its cadence and inflection was like nothing else and the words were completely unfamiliar.  When it was their turn to order, one woman translated for the other to the woman taking their order from behind the register.

            “Where are you from?” The woman behind the register asked when she heard the unfamiliar words.

            “Bermuda,” the translator replied.

            Bermuda?  I thought to myself.  As in the Bermuda Triangle? I didn’t know it had such a unique language.  I wracked my brain; searching all of my files to see what information I had on Bermuda.  Not much.  Strange.

            Soon it was my turn to order and I still had not figured out what was on the menu.  There was a picture of a noodle dish on the menu board.  Anything will work.  “Do you have something like Pad Thai?”

            The woman behind the register gave me a questioning look and opened up a notebook with everything they had to offer.  “Um, we don’t have that, but we have other noodle dishes.”  She showed me the list of noodle dishes, written in the same foreign characters.  It wasn’t Mandarin, Korean, or Japanese.  It was definitely not Thai, or Russian for that matter.

            Eventually I just pointed to something and hoped it would taste good.  As I waited for my tray of food, I looked around at the tables.  Every seat seemed to be taken.  Either the food was that good or there was nowhere else to go.

            When my food was ready, it looked fine, and I was hungry.  I weaved my way through the crowd and found one empty chair at a table where five people already sat.  I asked if it would be all right if I joined them and they looked at me vacantly for a moment and shrugged.  I took it as a yes, and settled down at their table.

            They were an odd bunch, I realized on closer examination.  There were three men and two women, grouped into pairs, with an odd man out.  Each of the couples fawned over one another and occasionally looked at everyone else around them in disgust.  The third man seemed to be their friend, exchanging a few words here and there, but he was not enjoying himself.  He was handsome, but not overly so.  He had a full head of brown hair, cut short, but not so short that it was a buzz cut.  He had sharp jaw-line and healthy physique, brown eyes brooding, but also kind.

            Suddenly the two couples turned to look at me.  About to take a bite, I lowered my fork and sat back, guarding myself.  In their eyes, all I could see was hatred. They reached out to me, as if to grab me, one holding a knife.  I have done nothing to these people.  They inched toward me with an evil purpose, eyes and intention unwavering.

            I slowly slid my chair back across the tile floor, looking around for an ally.  My eyes met those of the third man and he motioned for me to come with him.  Summoning up all of my strength and courage, I broke through the wall of evil and followed him out the door.

            It was dark outside, the stars and moon blocked by a blanket of clouds.  No light escaped the windows of the Asian café.  When did it become night?  How long was inside?  I had just gone there for lunch.  I shook my head, trying to straighten out my thoughts; nothing made any sense.

            “Thank you for saving me in there,” I offered.  “I have no idea what just happened.”

            Giving no explanation, the man put an arm around me and stared into the night.  I rested my head on his shoulder.  Having no idea who this man was, I felt safer than I had in a very long time.  We sat on the concrete steps outside the café for a long time.  Although no words were passed between us, I began to gain an understanding of his goodness and of his hopes and desires and his own past pain.

            The next day, I thought about what had happened.  It was all so strange and seemed completely unreal.  I tried to sort out the previous days events.  I went to lunch and there were two women speaking a language that resembled no other language in the world.  The menu was also written in a strange language.  I found a seat at a crowded table when, suddenly, the two couples started to attack me... very slowly.  And their friend saved me. Or was he their friend?  Maybe he was there for the very purpose of saving me.  We sat outside for a while and then he left.  As I continued my attempts to rationalize the events, they made less and less sense.  I have to find that man.

             Running errands around town, I scanned the streets and sidewalks for the man from the day before.  There were a lot of people going about their business; it was a busy day for everyone. 

             I stopped by the library, and the bank, and was heading to the grocery store when I saw him.  He was walking in the opposite direction on the other side of the street.  I stopped to watch him, wondering what I should do.  I wanted to talk to him, to be in his presence, but did he want to see me?  I didn’t know.  If I don’t go over to him now, I might never see him again.  I would never be able to live with myself if that happened.

            Straightening out my shoulders, I walked across the street with decisive intention in every step.  Walking up behind him, I hesitated again, wondering if I should really do this.  He looked ordinary in every way—just another busy person going about his business on a beautiful spring day.  But I knew he wasn't ordinary.  I have to talk to him.  I’m too close.  I reached out and tapped his shoulder.

            As he turned toward me, I smiled nervously.  “Hi,” I said.  “I don’t know if you want to see me, but…”

            Before I could continue, a smile spread across his face, eyes sparkling.  He reached out to me and enveloped me in a warm hug.  “Of course,” he replied.  “Of course I want to see you.”

            I closed my eyes, safe again in his arms.  I felt his warmth, goodness, kindness, and hopes intertwine with my own.

            “I feel as if I am twelve again,” he said to me.  And I understood.