I
have lived a thousand years.
I am a black cat walking on rooftops.
My
name is the middle of the road.
I
go as far as my voice.
This
morning, Preston received a baby Jesus from his Sunday school teacher. She made
one for each of the children. The baby Jesus face is drawn with pencil and he
has a blanket over him. There is a piece of gold tinsel wire. Brown paper makes
the manger. The whole thing fits in the palm of your hand.
I
love Candy.
The woman at the pool?
No,
Candy candy.
You
like candy?
Candy.
Preston,
that baby Jesus is for me.
No
he’s mine.
He
is for all of us.
No.
Give
me that baby Jesus. Let me look at him, he’s so cute. Look at his little eyes.
The
Sunday school teacher drew baby Jesus like a little Kewpie.
The
Japanese love Kewpie. They squeeze their mayonnaise from Kewpie bottles.
Preston,
please!
No,
baby Jesus is mine!
Kids
love baby Jesus.
We
are at the Irvine Auto Shop and a beautiful black woman says this. She is standing
between us and the door. Preston and I are standing beside the counter, while
the Iranian man is getting some information. This is California, but I want to
register my car in Nevada, and I need a smog check.
I
recognize the woman standing behind us but I do not say anything because I am
not sure. I think this is Rosealea, who I met a few months ago in Laguna Beach.
It was afternoon, and I was sitting on a bench.
Yes
they do. I mean, this one is really cute.
They
all are.
This
baby Jesus kind of looks like Kewpie.
I
love Kewpie!
Are
you Rosealea?
Yes,
I thought I recognized you. If you want, why don’t you just scan the smog certificate
you get from this place and send a copy to Nevada.
I’m
not sure how it works.
This
is the future! Everything is that way now.
When
I met Rosealea, I was sitting in a little patio between two buildings. We were
high up on the cliff and overlooking the ocean.
I have lived a thousand years and I am
walking on water. See, my feet are in the sky.
Rosealea…
I
can scan it for you.
The
Iranian man comes back and he has put his glasses on. A younger man follows him
into the office.
You
want to register with Nevada?
Yes.
We
can do this. We have another customer who does the same thing. You don’t need
the certificate. We give you the report. We can send it to Nevada. If you have
problem, come back to us.
Thank you.
Do
you want a piece of candy?
He
motions to a green bowl sitting on the counter. There is also a plastic coffee
pot.
Thank
you.
The
candy is a chocolate truffle, wrapped in gold leaf.
My
mother made those.
It’s
delicious.
I
come here just for these.
Rosealea’s
hand is like an otter. She’s carrying a white bag covered in fur. She is
wearing a black fleece.
Why
you want to register with Nevada? The older man asks.
Because of the Mojave.
Does
it rain? No.
And
the sky, it is very big?
Yes.
Would
you all mind if I sang for you?
Rosealea
is leaning in the corner beside the green bowl.
That
would be very nice.
I
learned to sing when I was a little girl. I was a dancer, and I played the
violin. I used to sing when my sister was asleep. She would dream of a lake.
Where
are you from? I ask.
Clovis.
Outside
of Fresno.
Yes.
I
hear it’s beautiful.
It
is beautiful. The air is like fruit and dirt.
Ooo
Are
you with a husband? The older man asks.
Yes
and no. Rosealea laughs.
So,
are you going to sing for us? My father loves to hear singing.
I
love singing, echoed the father. We used to live in Pittsburgh. We were in good
shape then.
I
love Pittsburgh.
But
cold in the winter.
Yes!
Even
the spring.
Rosealea
walks across the little room and stands in the doorway between the office and
the garage shop. I think of the cherry blossoms in Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia,
and a tiny restaurant with wine and cheese.
Suddenly
there is a loud noise in the shop like something big falling into water.
Heraldo!
Rosealea jumps out of the way and the two men run into the shop.
He
can’t swim!
I
hear one of the men jump in. Rosealea and I look into the shop and there is the
young man holding Heraldo in an above ground pool.
One
time I saw a statue in Rittenhouse Square. One moment it was there and the
next, it had disappeared. I saw it another time in the courtyard of city hall.
The statue was a man with a bird.
We
used to have a pool like that, Rosealea said. In Clovis.
[[The
young man has got Heraldo sitting on the little dock. Both men are covered in a
yellow goo. The young man and his father are speaking to each other in Farsi.
Rosealea whispers so quietly that I can hardly make out what she is saying. I’m
not certain if she is talking to me, or if I am supposed to hear.]]
The pool at my house was decorated with
orange beach balls and red umbrellas.
What was your father’s name?
Jeremy.
Who was your mother?
She was Linda.
Preston
is holding my hand.
Child,
is that the baby Jesus?
Yes.
Let
me see.
Preston
hands her the little paper manger with the piece of gold tinsel wire and the
cut-out of baby Jesus lying inside.
Where
did you get this?
Sunday
school.
Sunday school. At that moment,
Rosealea reminds me of a feather.
I am a black cat walking on rooftops. I
lick my paw when I touch the ground.
The
older man appears again in the doorway.
Sorry
for that! Heraldo cannot swim!
Is
he alright?
Yes,
yes, is alright.
The
young man appears behind him. He has changed his clothes and cleaned his face
and skin.
I
have finished your smog check! Here are your keys.
Thank
you.
The
man prints a paper and signs the bottom of it.
I
sent your smog approval to the Mojave.
Thank you.
Is
there anything else you need?
Rosealea
is still holding the baby Jesus, peering at his pencil face.
No,
that’s all. Thank you.
Preston
is holding my hand and he is watching his baby Jesus. Rosealea hands it back.
Take
good care of him.
I
will, Preston says. I love him.
Nice
to see you.
Nice
seeing you too.
See
you later.
Take
care.
Preston
and I walk outside. At the entrance to the office there’s a little fountain
made of cement. It is meant to resemble a waterfall, and is painted blue. One
part is painted green.
I was just thinking, he says...
As I am
about to put Preston in the car, the father runs out of the office.
I was just thinking, he says...
The
Mojave, it is in California.
He's
right.
You're
right.
Okay,
have a good day! The father says.
Thank
you, you too!
Come
to our shop if you need a repair.
I
will. Thank you.
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