Dec-98 - Friends Journal

Claustrophobia. A girl with light-brown
hair, cafe skin, appears; she tugs at your
sleeve, motions to another stall. You
don't understand which one, the leather­
shrouded stall? or the silver-strung
stand? You pull awfrt, penny-loafer feet
feeling moist, sweaty; forehead damp.
The faces foreign, brown, cafe, tan,
foreign, and you, the foreigner here. They
mill around you as if a dream descends
like a fog with many layers. You take your
oxford-cloth sleeve, drag it across your
forehead. Pull off the moisture, but it will
not pull awfrt. And he's here. There. Just
a touch.
You look down at your oxford-cloth
arm, your upper arm. A star. He's placed
a star, a sticky star on your sleeve. Next
to you. It's him. Brown face, childish,
small, his hand extended. He has on a
toobig, red-striped soccer shirt, faded
jeans, battered black canvas high-tops.
His eyes, like a hollow tunnel, dark and
FRIENDS j OURNAL December 1998
infinite. He's with you, hand extended.
You take his hand, this child. And he
looks startled, but then he looks into
your eyes and an understanding fills
his. He begins to walk, you following
along, through the ratcheting maze,
the floor like an ocean's ooze, and
then out into the golden air, the
lodging of free air, you realize, outside,
beneath a high, blue Jaliscan roof-sky.
He pulls his hand from yours. Still
extended, expectant. You dig into your
chino pocket, dig deep, pull out a ten­
peso coin, place it in the hand
extended. He smiles, radiant, in the
golden haze, the air.
He turns, strides in a small boy's
Wfrt, back in there, into the Market,
with his pockets full of sticky stars and
a few Mexican coins. You're seeing
him go and call " Muchacho, boy, como
se llama?, what's your name?" He
turns in a fleeting, calls back, "Jesus,"
turns and is gone in the milling crowd.
It sounds strange, at first, the way he
called his name. It sounded like "Hey­
soos," which is who he is, as you
stand breathing a sigh outside the
great Market that resembles an
ancient and immense inn, where souls
lodge, and he's gone in there again,
ahead of you. [J
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