Love Brilliant

She walked the forested park in an already rural area, her hometown, taking in the bounty of a day off from work. The air was so wet you could taste the woody decay all around. It was pure delight, fresh and musky, almost gamey even sweet all at once, perfect balance. Such tremendous potential lies in wet decomposing earth and wood, to her there was only one other thing that came close to this bourgeoning. Reaching into her messenger bag Chabi felt for her notebook, it was there. “Just as it ought to be”, she thought to herself coursing her hand across the velvety cover.

Touching the notebook cover was completely grounding, like taking a deep breath. As she “breathed in” a woman in a little black dress eating ice cream strolled by. Struck by her beauty Chabi paused watching her move. Chabi was musing how the woman resembled a swan when she saw her spill ice cream on her lovely frock. Trying to compose herself and salvage the dress the poor pedestrian shuffled about a storm of napkins, dabbing some on the milky spillage, her hair being tousled about as she moved. As naturally as a falling leaf drifts in the wind, one of the napkins floated out of the stranger’s hand and drifted away.

Now, for some women, it’s all about the little black dress, but for Chabi it was her little black book. In it she wrote dreams, not of the sleeping variety but the wildest dreams of a waking woman; fantasy, truths, loves, and the deepest sorrows. Chabi had not taken her hand off the cover since seeing the woman and with this had an idea. Between the covers of her notebook was a place to plan, a place to heal and feel heard. In this moment, she thought, how delightfully odd it would be to place the refuse drifting away in the wind and fold it into its pages.

Sharing a passing chuckle with the woman in the little black dress Chabi trotted off the path to collect her prize, chasing it through ferns and fallen branches. Maybe she would write a poem on the napkin, or a silly drawing? Stepping with one light single-footed stomp she tried to catch it and missed as a gust swept the napkin up, carrying it directly in front of her when she finally caught it in her hand.

“Victory!”, she said aloud holding the napkin proudly.

As Chabi straightened out the wrinkles on the napkin she immediately recognized the print and picture on it. Two figures fashioned from the 1950s, cheersing one another under a sky of stars. “Dawn’s Diner”, a 24-hour restaurant where, as it were, Chabi worked as a server.

“Of all things”, she thought to herself in amusement. Chabi truly loved her job, modest as it may be, Dawn’s Diner was an alright place to work. It appealed to Chabi’s sense of fashion, all the employees had to dress in period relevant attire, and the staff and owner, Merve, were wonderful people. It did not always pay the bills, but she didn’t mind. The place meant more to her than that, it left her with a sense of community, and she loved seeing people come and go.

Tracing her finger along the figures on the napkin she thought fondly of her workplace and figured what better spot to sit and scribe her poem or picture than back at Dawn’s. It was, however, her day off and Dawn’s Diner was the last place Chabi envisioned spending her day. She considered going elsewhere but in some sweetly strange way going there felt complete to her. While it was only a napkin, going back to the diner where it came from to draft her creation felt a little like releasing a rehabilitated bird into the wilds, so she made her way toward Dawn’s tucking the napkin in her book.

In any town, even small towns, the eccentricities one passes along the way are enough fuel for the wildest imaginations. In the course of a 4-block jaunt spiritual awakening can strike, you might adopt a puppy, or perhaps see that one person you had hoped to never see again, today for Chabi, nothing was out of the ordinary. A man wearing a suit made of plastic bags and a hat of bramble was selling oranges, three individuals enthusiastic and flirtatious were discussing the merits and perks of enlisting in the military, someone played the guitar so extraordinarily it made Chabi want to cry. A mother was breastfeeding her baby while two other children drew flowers and fish on the sidewalk with chalk.

Is this life in ‘end times?’, Chabi thought, or have we only just begun? A woman of optimisms and ambitions she favored the latter and in a vow to love brilliantly she always smiled at those who welcomed it. Somehow this honey in the heart would flow in an endless stream if allowed, indeed If you are thirsty, drink, even in the rain.

Just like that, a few thoughts passed and Chabi was at the doors of the diner, she briskly stepped into the bustle, sizzle and clank of the restaurant and made her way towards the counter. Stepping into the diner was like stepping onto a stage for the neural activity of hunger, all of it neither structured nor dissonant. This was magic, just the utter sensational nature of everyday life.

“Chabi!” Merve, the owner, called from behind the counter, interrupting Chabi from her daydream, “Now, don’t hate me.”

“Please no.” Chabi muttered to herself sensing what was coming.

Merve was a kindly man, around 68, he and his wife started Dawn’s Diner together, but she had died 3 years ago in a horrific car accident, now the diner was Merve’s everything, and it was obvious. The food was delicious, things just felt good at Dawn’s.

Merve was filling napkin dispensers as he spoke, “Tella called in, she’s going into labor.”

“This early? Is she okay? The baby?” Chabi’s heart sank, Tella was a dear friend, a coworker and soon to be single mom with a heart of gold.

“It sounds like it’s a little too soon to say, but Tella is doing fine.” He hesitated then continued, “I need someone to cover for her, we’re completely swamped here, and the dinner rush hasn’t even started yet. I know you really needed some time off Chabi… I don’t have anyone else to ask. Please, you are here after all! It’s like you knew I would need you today. I always thought you were tuned in like that!”

Merve chuckled and attempted to butter her up, but he was frantic, Chabi could tell. He was right, the place was packed. She desperately needed some time off, for a person of such whimsy Chabi never took a day to herself, even in her down time she was working and today was supposed to be different.

Barely hesitating before responding the words came right out.

“Oh alright Merve of course I’ll cover.”, she smiled and picked up an apron. She wasn’t particularly dressed for the occasion but put on a little red lipstick, pulled her hair back and was ready to go. Merve gave her a pat on the back, smiled and did an overly dramatic bow toward her before returning to filling the napkin dispensers.

People came and went, the usuals and some first timer diners stopped in. When dinner time rolled around an unfamiliar group of 10 men, all in blue jeans and wearing various types of hats; cowboy, baseball, even one in a beanie came in through the doors. They seemed interesting, and, as a group, had the presence of a herd of buffalo.

Preparing their waters Chabi watched the gentlemen rustle about, settling themselves into their seats. A most familiar dance: they each found their chairs, some took off their jackets keeping their movements concise, trying not to tip over a glass or knock something off the table. Once finally situated, after a little shifting and scooting, everyone seated looked at each other dead in the eye, silently asking and replying using only their eyes,

“Everyone good? “

The men all appeared to be somewhere in their late thirties to mid-sixties and all seemed kind, yet, still the kind of people whose judgements and scorn is best avoided, like a grandpa you never saw angry…until you did. Chabi made her way over to the table, greeted them all with a warm tone and smile, placed the menus, offered waters, discovered they were a group of truckers, and even cracked a joke before making her way back to check in on her other tables while they pondered the menu.

After making her rounds, taking the order at the table of 10, then after bringing them their food Chabi remembered the thing that brought her into Dawn’s today in the first place, the napkin. With a moment or two to spare while mouths and minds were busy, she pulled out her little book where the napkin was pressed and began drawing. She darted up every few minutes, stopping her sketch to tend to the clusters of people, resuming whenever the atmosphere allowed until finally, she finished. It was of one of the 10 men, taking the form of a buffalo, wearing a tiny ball cap and driving a big rig, his hoof hand waving out the window, the likeness was remarkable. This made her smile so she decided she would present it to them as a souvenir along with the check.

She approached the table of 10 with the drawing in hand and noticed the men already had their bill money out ready to go. “They must be in a hurry”, she thought, “Maybe they don’t quite have the time for my silly drawing”, this thought made her feel a true sadness, everyone in such a hurry these days.

She handed them the bill and they quickly handed her their dues, before taking the check money and heading back toward the register one of the men spoke up.

“Just one more thing miss”, he was pulling something from a bag and handed it to her.

“Of course…what’s this?”

“Open it up.”, another piped in

It was a little parchment wrapped object, as she opened it, he continued.

“We may look like a bunch of tough guys and geezers, and I ain’t saying we’re not! …but we are also a part of a group of 100 truckers, who got it into our heads that we could really do a whole lot of good, for a whole lotta people if we teamed up. So, we got to thinking and we all agreed that for one year, each month, each of us would chip in 200$ and we’d give that whole kitty to 12 different people throughout the year. That’s 20,000$ right there for you miss, just our little way of saying thank you.”

After an extended period of absolute disbelief Chabi began shaking, laughing, then crying and smiling, even feeling dizzy.

“Looks like you could use a tissue. What’s that you got in your hand there?”

Chabi lightly dabbed her tear with the napkin and handed her drawing over.

“I found this today, it brought me here, it was my day off and, well, long story short here I am. I wanted to do something with this napkin, so I made a drawing on it of your friend here.” She passed the sketch to the fella closest to her.

“Good lord Hank it looks just like you!” They all laughed and passed it around, “You’ve got real talent there miss. The rest of the gang is going to get a real kick out of this!”

“Thankyou.” Chabi beamed, holding the envelope. Thinking of the remarkable hearts of these buffalo men, grateful for her friends Tella, and Merve, thankful for the falling ice cream, for every precious moment, even for the wind that blew that day.