The Peanut Chronicles

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

At Peet’s getting a black coffee and a cookie. I also get an Irish breakfast tea and add two sugars and cream. I turned around and walked over to where Bopa was sitting and waiting. He looks like he always has: an ancient version of Yurtle the Turtle, with his cap and cane.

We start to talk as I give him the coffee.

“So how is the baby?”

“He’s good. He sneezes like you. 12 in a row you know.”

“Well, he is my namesake. He’s a cutie too. You used to cry like him you know. The only way to get you to be quiet was to walk you in a pram. I guess he takes after you.”

“Guess so.”

“How’s the bear? Still flying?”

“Yeah… he had a job offer but he isn’t going to take it because he doesn’t think that I could handle him being gone for so long.”

“That’s a shame. Do you think it might really be because he loves that kid so much? I have been watching…”

“Maybe.”

“How’s school?”

“Same shit different day.”
“How is the thesis going? You getting around to it?”

“It’s ok I guess. Sometimes it’s hard, sometimes it’s easy. Sometimes the words just come right out, sometimes they are blocked.”

Bopa just looks at me and sips his coffee. I decided to ask him a few questions. This is how our banter always was and probably always will be.

“Sooooo…..ummm… was that you in the hospital with me or mom?”

“You already know the answer to that Bub.”

I laugh

“You are the king of double talk and avoiding the question.”

Bopa sticks his tongue out at me and smiles his seven-tooth smile.

“You learned from the best then.”

I just watch the sun filter through the windows.

“How are Kim and Krystel? They ok?”

Again it’s met with a smile and a slight nod.

“They are fine kiddo, just fine.”

We sit and sip more coffee. I know what I want to ask but it’s touchy. Finally I decide to bite the bullet:

“Umm… Bopa? I was wondering… is…”

He interrupts me, “No. The answer is no.”

I feel relieved. I don’t have to voice the one thing that was really bothering me.

Bopa finishes his coffee and gets up to walk himself out of the shop.

“Where are you going?”

“You already know the answer to that too Bub. I’ll see you around. Besides, the alarm is going off and you need to feed that kid!” He smiles, puts on his glasses and walks out into the sun leaving me alone in the coffee shop with my tea.

The alarm is going off and I opened my eyes to a rainy 4am and the Bear snoring quietly at my side.

So was it a dream? Was it wishful thinking? Was it real? The answer is something I don’t know. The images were so clear that unlike a dream, several hours after waking up I can remember our conversation word for word. I can remember the smell of the coffee shop, the clothes that he was wearing, the taste of the coffee and tea, the loudness of the espresso machines in the background, the hum of the other customers, the brightness of the sun… how can that be a dream?

“Did you think that you were dreaming? Sometimes I don’t know.”
-Counting crows, ‘round here (live)