Meeting Max (34 page)
Authors: Richard Brumer
Rick shook his head and turned back to the woman beside him. “Crazy. Those kids belong in a zoo!”
The woman burst out laughing and leaned forward, her hair slipping around her shoulders. “Oh my goodness, you’re so right! This is the perfect place for them.”
He turned and extended his hand. “My name is Rick.”
“I’m Michelle.”
“Michelle, that’s a pretty name. It’s so soft sounding and musical.”
“Thank you.”
“I grew up a short distance from here, but I live in the city now. This is my first time back in many years and the zoo is more interesting, with many more exhibits.” He nodded toward the kids. “Like those, for example.”
She giggled and said, “Yes, that’s for sure. Well, I’m a long way from home. I grew up in Stockholm and now live in Manhattan. I’ve been here for about a year and it’s my third visit to this zoo.”
They walked to the butterfly house.
“Is this your favorite exhibit?” He nodded toward the fluttering colors ahead of them.
“Oh, yes. I love butterflies. They always seem so happy. Just the sight of them brings me so much pleasure. To me, they symbolize the ultimate freedom.”
“That’s how I think of them too.” For a moment, they were silent. Then he asked, “Would you like to walk with me a while?”
She appeared apprehensive at first, then she shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?”
They started to walk to the right, then thought better of it when they realized that was where the crowd of kids had headed. With a knowing glance, they turned and went in the opposite direction. Michelle laughed again, and he joined her. Her laughter was infectious, and the moment filled his soul with lightness. Laughter was something he needed, since his life had been filled with so much grief.
“What kind of music do you like?” she asked.
“Mostly classical, but I like jazz and other popular music.”
“I like classical, and I
love
Jazz. Have you ever been to the Village Vanguard?”
“Not recently. I don’t get to hear much live jazz, but I have CDs of Coltrane and Miles Davis.”
“Oh, you should go sometime. Greenwich Village is a wonderful place, and there’s nothing like the sound of live music. Who’s your favorite blues singer?”
“There’s only one for me, Billie Holliday. Nobody sings like her...and yes, I like the Village.”
“I love her too, and you’re right, there is no one like her. She takes a song that others have recorded and sings it in her own distinctive style. She was so special. For classical music, I like them all, but especially the Tchaikovsky Romeo and Juliet. Do you know it?”
“I do.” Rick took a chance. “We should listen to it sometime.”
“Yes, we should,” she agreed shyly, her cheeks turning a flattering shade of rose.
“What do you like to do for fun?”
“Well, I am from Sweden, so I grew up on skis, but I have never skied here. The last place I skied in Sweden was in Åre, a very nice place and good for advanced skiers.”
“I love to ski. Do you like to sail?”
“I have never been, but sailing must be like being a butterfly spreading her wings. I dreamt I was a butterfly a few nights back.”
“Oh, really? So did I.”
“Ah, I knew I remembered you from somewhere,” she said, laughing.
“I just got back from a sailing trip with my grandson. He’s fourteen and I will be meeting him and his mother at the birdhouse.” He explained his relationship with Max and asked, “Would you like to join us?”
“That would be nice. I would like that.”
Max and Sarah were already waiting when they arrived. Rick introduced Michelle. They walked, talked, had some ice cream, then visited the Asian elephants, tigers, and lions. The day passed quickly as they enjoyed each other’s company.
Michelle and Sarah connected immediately. They were both teachers and knew many of the same people. Rick watched them interact, Michelle gasping when Sarah mentioned someone they knew, Sarah laughing, then shaking her head in surprise. He and Max chuckled and mimicked the “girly” gestures as they walked behind them. A fun day.
At the end of the afternoon, Rick gave Sarah a hug and saved another one for Max, rocking him from side to side in his arms. He looked at his face and heaved a sigh when he caught Julie’s sparkle in his eyes. It was sad saying goodbye, but California was not that far, and there was texting, Skype, and internet backgammon games to keep them connected between visits and phone conversations. There were more farewell waves from a distance until they were out of sight.
The crowds of kids had disappeared. A few couples passed by as the sun permeated the foliage, sinking lower in the sky.
“Well.” Rick slipped his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants and shrugged. “What should we do now?”
Michelle grinned. “Would you like to walk with me a while?”
“Sure. That sounds wonderful.”
She slipped her arm around Rick’s and they strolled back to the butterfly garden.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, my sincere thanks and love to my wife, Carol, who has provided me with the inspiration to write this book. My appreciation goes to Rosa Sophia, an established author and good friend, who has shared her knowledge of writing with me along with her encouragement. My gratitude goes to Gloria Smith, who provided the original inspiration for this book. Without her, this story would have never been told.
My deep appreciation to Tiffany T. Cole for doing an excellent job of editing my manuscript. To my critique group, Writers of Abacoa: Sharon Menear, Leslie A. Borghini, Joseph Alcock, Edee Corrias, Judy Ratto, Fred Lichtenburg, Stan Leeds, Judy Lucas, Roy Sanders, Ellen Seacrest, Linda Van Dyck, David Yates, Patricia Benedetto, and Allen Balogh.
To my good friends, Rohit and Bubli Dandiya and Jaswant Singh, for encouraging me to visit India. This acknowledgment wouldn’t be complete without me offering my sincere gratitude to the people of India. My trip to India became a love affair like no other. As I backpacked my way through this wondrous land, I made new friends and became immersed in its sensuous culture, which helped me set some of the scenes in this book.
About the Author
Richard Brumer grew up in the Bronx and now lives in Florida with his wife Carol. For many years his passions were skiing, sports car racing, and sailing, including sailing solo in the South Pacific.
As a retired pharmacist, he turned his hand to writing and has written several novels and short stories.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
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Gelt without Guilt
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