You said, “I think I found my calling.”
You were wearing the jacket that “no one else got that year.” It wasn’t an ordinary members-only jacket. It was the amazing one, and confident there were other amazing ones out there, millions actually, that’s exactly what I told you.
You looked at me like you were facing a member from your secret order in the foreign land to which you accepted your assignment long ago, and said, “You want to know the story behind this jacket?” I told you that you didn’t have to – that it spoke for itself.
You gave me the secret handshake, which got all fouled up, and you nodded coolly, as did I in effect. I asked you how you found me. You said, “My friend just told me to come here and wait.” I said, “Good friend,” and we moved on.
We didn’t bother talking small about the past, or even getting to know each other really. Too much baggage and too many excuses. Besides, it wouldn’t be long before we arrived, and there wasn’t time.
We told each other what we needed to hear. I told you something smelled really good, like relaxation. You nodded and said it was probably your shea, cocoa and Vitamin C infused mango butter soap. Then you slowly reached down to your ankle. You magically produced a stick of turkey jerky from what appeared to be your sock, which was pulled on tightly up to your knee, and then your phone from the other sock, which was slinking down around your ankle.
You asked me if you could call me whenever you needed to. I said, “Of course. Anytime, anywhere, anyhow, from any corner of the earth – but not with either of those.” You put away the phone and the turkey and said, “Then how am I supposed to find you?” like you were pissed at me, but not in a bad way. More like you were an agent getting orders relayed from a director who was always a little too sure, as far as you were concerned, that everything would work out no matter how tight the jam, as long as you just had a little faith. I looked forward and said, “Just put that jacket on, look in the mirror, and say you know what.” You gave me that same look of shock you gave me before, and it wasn’t getting old. You just shook your head like you were having a really good moment and proceeded to eat the jerky in a manner befitting its designation.
We promptly arrived where I agreed to take you – the supermarket where you worked. A coworker said hi to you, and you tipped your hat. As you were leaving, a reflection of light gleamed off the diamond in your ear.