by Emmens, Joye
“How do you escape from prison?” Jolie asked.
“I think the Weather Underground had something to do with it. I’m trying to verify the rumor.”
“Nixon said he’s the most dangerous man in America,” Daniel said.
“Nixon is the dangerous one. He’s got our soldiers blood on his hands. Leary was in prison for possession of the remains of two joints,” Will said, shaking his head.
They talked more about Timothy Leary and moved on to other subjects.
“Leah and I are going to hike the Emerald Necklace this Sunday. It’s seven miles,” Jolie said. “Do you guys want to come?”
“You know I have a standing meeting with the professor on Sundays,” Will said.
“Invite him too. You can talk along the way. I’m bringing a picnic.”
“We’re working on the party platform.”
The party platform. She was disappointed, but she knew there was no way she’d change his mind if that was his agenda for the day.
“I’m in,” Daniel said.
“Good,” Will said. “Now you girls will have a bodyguard.”
The next morning after Will went to the office, Jolie rushed to the temple for yoga before work. The class was small with four women and two men and the yogi. They sat cross-legged on their mats with eyes closed, hands resting on their knees, palms up.
“Breathe in the light. Open up your heart. Draw your shoulders down away from your ears and bring your shoulder blades toward your back,” the yogi said. “Breathe out and soften your body. Imagine you are holding all of the world’s sorrow in your left palm, and all of the world’s joy in your right palm. Breathe in the light and open your heart. Breathe out and soften. Let go of the sorrow.”
Could the yogi feel her sorrow? Let it go, let it go, let it go. She relaxed and a bright light filled her heart. The yogi led them through yoga sequences. “In yoga, there are two opposing lines of energy. Always engage them. It’s like yin and yang.”
When the class was over, she floated to her feet. Jolie and her three yoga friends walked out together. At the entrance, Jolie took a flyer with the schedule of classes and put it in her purse. They stood talking outside for a while in the peaceful outer sanctuary of the temple before hugging goodbye and heading their separate ways for another week.
Jolie started her shift, invigorated after yoga. She smoothed her crisp white apron and collected the tips into a separate cup for the waitress who had just finished her shift. The woman who came in to relive her from her shift was not as honest and never left her anything, but that would be her karma.
She looked up as a new customer sat down at the end of the bay. She walked over with a coffee pot and order pad, her long braid swished across her back. “Coffee?” Her mind was on the color photography chakra project she wanted to start.
“I’ve been gone all summer and that’s the greeting I get? Coffee?” the young man said, smiling up at her.
“Nick!” Heat rose to her face. He was back. “Sorry, my mind was somewhere else. You look different somehow.”
His brown eyes held her gaze. “I had to cut my hair for the internship and yes, I’ll have coffee, please.”
Nick sat drinking coffee, conversing sporadically between Jolie’s customers’ demands. The bay was full now with the lunch crowd, and it was impossible to talk. He got up to leave and confirmed he’d see her at noon on Sunday for the Emerald Necklace hike. He was off to buy his books for the next semester. By his coffee cup he’d left her a tip and a black-and- white postcard from the Museum of Fine Arts for the upcoming Ansel Adams photography exhibit. She smiled and tucked it away under the counter next to her tip jar.
Sunday morning, Jolie packed bagel sandwiches and baked two batches of brownies, some for the hike and some for the office. She kissed Will goodbye as he left and handed him the plate of warm brownies. A moment later she heard Old Blue thunder down the street. She waited to meditate until after he left the house, tired of his negative comments about wasting her time.
She emerged later dressed in bell bottom jeans, beaded moccasins, and a vintage, blue silk blouse. She adjusted her black beret and tied the tails of her blouse in a knot at her waist.
Daniel was in the kitchen, finishing a brownie, ready to go.
Jolie grabbed her camera, and Daniel took the backpack. They got off the subway at the Public Garden and waited for Nick and Leah at the entrance. Daniel set the backpack on the grass.
“Guard that with your life. There’s something special in it,” Jolie said.
“Oh, I will,” he said, with a giggle.
Jolie glanced at him. He was in a good mood, as always.
Leah arrived, looking like an angel in a white blouse and Indian love beads. Her curly dark hair fell softly to her shoulders. She and Jolie hugged. Daniel moved in for a hug with Leah that seemed to last more than a greeting. Leah faced Jolie, and she raised her eyebrows and smiled.
Nick arrived, and Jolie introduced them. Daniel grasped his hand and shook it heartily. She hadn’t seen Daniel this friendly and relaxed before. It must be Leah.
Nick gave Jolie a hug. “Going French today?” he said.
She smiled and touched her beret. He noticed the smallest things.
Jolie pulled out a map from her pocket and unfolded it. “Here’s our route.” They hovered around her as she traced the green parkway of the Emerald Necklace through nine parks, ending at Franklin Park. “We’ll stop and eat lunch at Jamaica Pond.”
“If we make it that far,” Daniel said.
They glanced at Daniel. “No man, it’s do or die. We’re following Olmstead’s vision,” Nick said.
“Who’s Olmstead?” Leah asked, as they started walking twelve blocks down a grand avenue away from the Public Garden.
“Frederick Olmstead is the creative genius who designed this park system a hundred years ago,” Nick said. “He was a visionary.”
“Connecting man and nature,” Daniel said absently.
They walked to the Boylston Bridge and looked out over the Fens. Jolie took a picture of the panorama.
They veered off onto a path and into the public vegetable garden. The stench of manure filled the air. Gardeners weeded and harvested vegetables in communal plots.
“Look at all of that food. I’m getting hungry,” Daniel said. “Let’s have a brownie.”
Leah walked near Jolie and whispered, “He sure is enjoying himself.”
“Let’s go sit by the Japanese bell,” Jolie said.
They walked past the rose garden, a mass of blooms. A heavy rose scent filled the air. Near the bell they sat down on a bench.
“Now, can I have a brownie?” Daniel asked.
Jolie brought out the brownies. “I made these from the Alice B. Toklas recipe. They’re not for the faint of heart.” She pulled out the wrapped bag. It had already been opened.
“Alice who?” Leah asked.
“Really? I’ll have one,” Nick said.
Jolie looked at Daniel. She remembered him eating a brownie in the kitchen before they left, but assumed it was from the other batch. She started laughing.
“Ahh, no wonder I feel so fine,” Daniel said, with a wide-eyed look.
“What’s so funny?” Leah said.
“Daniel’s way ahead of us.” She took one and passed them around. “There’s pot in these. Have one. The Emerald Necklace will take on a whole new feeling.”
Leah took one and looked at Daniel who seemed to be enjoying himself. She bit into it. They sat munching brownies, savoring the chewy chocolate bites, looking at the three hundred year old Japanese temple bell. It was a gift from Japan, a gesture of world peace.
With arms linked four across, they continued on the trail through the Fens to the Riverway. At the bridge Jolie and Leah broke away and skipped over, hand in hand, laughing. Daniel and Nick
caught up with them and they walked the Riverway path into Olmstead Park.
They walked through the wildflower meadow to Ward’s Pond and stood by the banks in their own small wilderness. Jolie spread a faded Madras bedspread on the ground. They sat down one by one and lay on their backs, looking up at the swaying trees.
“You can hear them,” Jolie said.
“Hear who?” Leah said.
“We need another brownie,” Nick said.
“Yes, we do,” Leah said.
Jolie looked at Daniel and fell into a fit of giggles pointing to the backpack.
Daniel passed out more brownies, and they sat up, chewing slowly, staring out at the pond.
“What are you photographing?” Nick asked.
“Green algae, pure green.”
“Wow,” Leah said.
Along the trail to Jamaica Pond, they stopped at a picnic table. Jolie and Leah spread out the bedspread as a table cloth. Leah took out the cut-up fruit she’d brought, and Jolie got out the bagel, cream cheese, and avocado sandwiches and laid them on napkins.
“What is that green stuff?” Leah asked, looking at the wiggly green things spilling out of the bagels.
“Bean sprouts,” Jolie said.
“Bean sprouts? I’ve never heard of them. I’ve never had an avocado either,” Leah said.
Leah didn’t move, still staring at the sprouts.
“I’ve never had sprouts either,” Nick said, “but here goes.” He took a bite of the sandwich. They could hear the sprouts crunch with each chew. Jolie and Daniel took a bite. Eventually Leah picked one up and took a tiny bite. “Yum, these are divine,” she said, closing her eyes. “It tastes like California.”
After lunch they continued along the path through the Arnold Arboretum. They passed through meadows, ponds, and a small forest. Daniel and Leah walked hand in hand in front of Jolie and Nick. Nick put his arm around Jolie. He squeezed her close to his body. A small tremble ran through her, and her knees weakened in a rush of warmth. What she had been trying to push away from her thoughts all summer became clear now. She did feel for Nick. She leaned into him to steady herself. This wouldn’t have happened if Will had come along.
Will. Guilt descended, but she shook it off. She and Nick were only friends. He released his arm.
They stopped at the medicinal herb garden used for research. Jolie crushed some leaves between her fingers and a spicy aroma wafted in the air. “Don Juan’s shaman would love it here.”
“Who?” asked Leah.
“An Indian healer,” Jolie said.
Leah looked puzzled.
“I’ll lend you the book.”
They walked on through Franklin Park to the end of the Emerald Necklace at the edge of Roxbury. They all lingered, reluctant to end the day.
“Is anybody hungry?” Daniel asked.
“Famished,” Nick said.
Leah laughed. “I could eat a whale.”
“Let’s go find Dimitri and his restaurant,” Jolie said.
They emerged from the subway in the Back Bay neighborhood and walked along Newbury Street until they stood before a towering blue-and-white sign above a blue awning: The Greek.
Daniel held the door open, and they entered. It was cool, dark, and noisy. They adjusted their eyes to the dim light. The tables were full of families talking loudly. Glasses and silverware clinked. Through the food service window, Jolie glimpsed Dimitri and waved. He squinted at them and then with enormous hand gestures and speaking in Greek, he called out something to the hostess. She nodded and escorted them back into a private room. Photographs of Greece covered the dark, wood-paneled walls. The table was set with a white linen tablecloth. Blue cloth napkins swaddled the silverware. Dimitri came in and greeted them.
“You brought your friend,” Dimitri gestured to Nick. His eyes smiled at Jolie.
“All of my friends.” Jolie introduced him to Nick and Daniel.
Dimitri smiled brightly at Jolie and Leah. “You look hungry.”
“We’re starving,” Leah said.
“You’ll be my guests today.”
“No, no,” Jolie said. “We want to pay.”
Dimitri shook his head, offended, and said something in Greek. Nick responded in Greek, and a rapid-fire dialogue ensued. The hostess brought in a bread basket and tray with three types of olives. Dimitri hurried back to the kitchen. “Well, that’s settled,” Nick said.
“What?” Leah asked.
“He’ll only serve us if we’re his guests,” Nick said.
“I didn’t know you spoke Greek,” Jolie said.
“I’m Greek, through and through.”
The waitress came in with stuffed grape leaves. Nick took one and held it near Jolie’s lips. She opened her mouth and took a small bite. She closed her eyes as she savored the taste of the rice, pine nuts, and fresh herbs. Nick ate the remainder.
Tiropitas—cheese-filled phyllo triangles, and a plate of thick, sliced feta cheese arrived next.
“I think I’m in heaven,” Jolie said as Dimitri appeared with a tray of four dips: eggplant, garlic, cucumber, and taramosalata, a caviar made from carp roe.
He and Nick had another brief exchange, and Dimitri winked at Jolie and hurried off again. “What did he say?” Jolie said.
“He always knew you were an angel.”
“Little does he know,” Jolie said.
They passed the bread basket filled with slices of olive bread, feta cheese bread, and pitas. The tray of dips went around.
Leah groaned. “This is a feast.”
Nick laughed. “It hasn’t even started. Save some room.”
Two waitresses appeared with a layered eggplant dish filled with spicy lamb and a spinach pie made with delicate phyllo dough.
“Moussaka and spanakopita,” one said, pointing to the dishes.
“Oh my god,” Jolie said, looking at the steaming platters.
One waitress returned with stuffed tomatoes and leafy greens. Daniel’s eyes grew big, and he and Leah broke into laughter. Dimitri arrived with a platter of lamb and potatoes and announced, “Arni me patates.”
Jolie jumped up and gave him a hug. “This is the most fantastic feast I’ve ever eaten.”
Nick started a slow clap which the others echoed. Dimitri gave a quick bow and hurried back to his busy kitchen. Jolie took a photo of the table and all of the beautiful food.
A while later, they sat back with satiated smiles. One waitress cleared the dishes and brought coffee. The other waitress brought in a creamy custard pie and baklava.
Nick took a fork of baklava and held it out to Jolie. “Try this.”
She leaned toward him and opened her mouth for a bite. The flaky phyllo dough, filled with cinnamon and spiced nuts soaked in honey, melted in her mouth. He smiled and wiped pastry flakes from her lips with his napkin. Their eyes locked and a wave fluttered through her. He leaned in and kissed her ever so gently.
43
Falling Stars
The air was crisp and thin and smelled clean. The sunlight was translucent. Jolie walked to work, not wanting to take the subway on the cool fall morning. College students filled the streets. Across the street from a high school, she paused at a newsstand and watched the students through the fenced school yard, streaming to their classes. They were her age, but they seemed so young and carefree. She felt like an old soul, peering in on them. She should be in school. School for her had been easy and boring, but now she wanted to go to college. Dreading going to work, she idled at the newsstand, looking at the magazines. The headline on the Globe leapt off the front page: Jimi Hendrix, 28, Found Dead in London Flat. Stunned, she bought the paper and stood on the corner, reading the brief article. Jimi Hendrix was dead. What a tragic blow. She walked to work, numb.
On Thursday morning, Jolie and her three yoga friends em
erged from the temple into the bright October sunlight. The women talked and laughed as they walked along the stone path. They lingered near the water fall among the brilliant green bamboo stalks. Jolie hugged them good-bye and walked toward the street. A tall figure leaned against the dark wooden temple gate. It was Will. Jolie slowed her pace.
“So, this is where you go before work?” Will asked. In his hand was the schedule of yoga and meditation sessions she kept at home inside her drawer.
The women stood watching. “Most days,” Jolie said. She wouldn’t lie to him. She may have secrets, but she wouldn’t lie.
“I knew they’d suck you in,” Will said.
“Hey brother, yoga is not a crime,” Cheyenne said.
“Yoga? Now it’s yoga? Buddhism is a damn cult.”
“It’s not a cult,” Jolie said. “Buddhism and yoga have been around for thousands of years.”
“Join us sometime,” Molly said.
“Come on. I’ll drive you to work.” He turned and walked toward Old Blue parked down the street. She followed him, glancing back at her friends.
“See you next week?” Willow asked.
Jolie nodded and followed Will.
Will drove toward Harvard Square, silent, his eyes on the road. After a long while he looked at her. “I told you, I don’t want you getting involved with cult religions.”
“It is not a cult. I love the temple. It’s a positive influence in my life.”
He shot her a glance. “You don’t know who is involved there. They could be wacko fanatics.”
“How can you judge something you have no experience or knowledge of? Why don’t you come with me?”
Will pulled into a loading zone near Brigham’s. The engine idled. “I don’t have time for men in orange robes.”
Their eyes locked. A fierceness spread through her as she grasped door handle. “The temple is my refuge.” She opened the door and slid out. With the door still open she looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry you won’t join me but I won’t give it up.”
His eyes held hers. “I’ll pick you up here tonight at seven.”
