TheBanyanTree: Life Stories 110

[Tobie Shapiro]

January 4, 20000000007


Dear,

	I was dreaming about these half funny 
aliens.  They were not your average tentacled, 
bug eyed, vicious monsters.  In fact they were 
disguised as employees of a fast food chain 
restaurant which was trying to cater the meals at 
the place where I lived.  The nature of the place 
evades me.  It wasn't a commune, but it wasn't 
just an apartment complex.  ANYWAY, these aliens 
looked like absolutely normal adolescents, most 
of them, pimples and all.  But you could tell 
which ones were aliens, because they'd give 
themselves away by doing uncharacteristic social 
behaviours, or trying to devour a resident (so 
impolite!).  Every time another alien revealed 
itself, I'd fight with it, and then realize I was 
asleep, and announce to everyone, "Sorry, I've 
got to wake myself up," and then I'd wrench 
myself awake for a few moments before I fell back 
asleep and continued the same dream.  It was not 
a restful night.  But the aliens lost, and we got 
good food back, too.


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Bouquet

	My brother and I were driven all the way 
across town to see a movie at The Oaks Theater on 
Solano Avenue.  That's in far north Berkeley.  We 
lived in far southeast Berkeley, a distance of 
maybe five miles.  The arrangement was for my 
mother to come pick us up after the show.  I 
don't recall what the movie was, but neither 
Daniel nor I liked it.  In fact, after the first 
few moments, we decided we didn't want to watch 
it.  So we left the theater, out from the dark 
into the bright sun of a Sunday afternoon.

	Daniel must have been eight or so.  That 
made me fifteen.  I was the older sister and I 
was therefore in charge.  It's hard to imagine 
that I was close to the age when I could have 
gotten a learner's permit, because I was so young 
for my age.  My bright idea was for us to walk 
home.  Yes, from one side of the town to the 
other.  I actually had no clue what exact route 
to take.  Not being a driver, I had not paid any 
attention to the streets, the directions, the 
right or left turns.  I just figured that we'd 
find our way if we headed in the general 
direction across the city.  As we got closer, I 
figured I'd recognize some landmark or other and 
know how to get home.  What was important was to 
get home before my mother set off to pick us up. 
Then she'd get there, we wouldn't be there to 
meet her, and she'd freak out.  I guessed it 
would take us a couple of hours to get home, just 
a wild guess.  That would be in plenty of time, 
since it was a double feature.

	We set off overland, aiming at a place in 
front of our noses, and we kept going.  Mostly, 
it was stores and busy streets.  It looked 
familiar.  After a while, Daniel said he was 
tired and could I carry him.  I hadn't counted on 
that.  I put him piggy back for a block or two, 
but that was the end of my strength.  I  had to 
find something to amuse him so he'd forget about 
being carried.  I invented an activity.  We were 
going to pick flowers along the way, and present 
our mother with a big bouquet once we got home.

	"But these flowers don't belong to us."

	He was right.  And here came the great 
rationalization.  We would only pick a flower 
from a bush or flower bed so crowded with flowers 
of its kind that one or two plucked out of the 
whole would never be missed.  So we began our 
collection.  We turned off the busy streets and 
walked through residential neighborhoods. The 
flowers were out in force.  It was Spring.  One 
flower here, two flowers there.  We never 
deviated from our rule: only pick a flower if its 
absence would never be noticed.  We were 
gathering a fine armful of flowers.  Not once did 
anyone come running out of a house, waving arms 
wildly and screaming for us to stop vandalizing 
the garden.

	We found our way to the North Gate of the 
University of California.  The University is 
pretty much in the center of Berkeley, and all 
points in Berkeley are referenced by its 
position.  You can be south Berkeley, which is 
south of campus, or west of campus, north of 
campus or east of campus in the hills.  We walked 
through the University, which is huge.  Dozens 
and dozens of buildings and crowds of students. 
I took my directions from the Campanile, and 
navigated by it.  Now I knew where we were.  I'd 
taken a summer class at the University when I was 
in junior high school, and I'd made myself 
familiar with how to walk from one side of campus 
to the other.  Just watch the Campanile.  From 
the South Gate (Sather Gate) we were then near 
Telegraph Avenue, where Yvonne and I spent our 
afternoons after school.  We headed up to 
fraternity, sorority row and from there around 
the California School for the Deaf and Blind, 
then to Claremont Avenue and straight home to 
Domingo.  By the time we reached home, we had an 
enormous bunch of flowers of every kind: roses, 
irises, tiny daisies, narcissus, daffodils, 
lilies, and many I had no name for.  We rang the 
back door bell, and my  mother came to the door. 
We were delighted that she was shocked to see us. 
She was getting ready to leave to come fetch us. 
We handed her the flowers, and she found a 
suitable vase.

	"Where did you get all the flowers?"  We 
told her and explained our rule.

	"You shouldn't have," she said.  And she meant it.


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-- 




Tobie Helene Shapiro
Berkeley, California   USA

tobie at shpilchas.net