Chapter 7 The Boxes
As tired as she was she got up and headed down to the basement. As she descended, the stairs creaked under her weight. A sound she hadn't heard in at least 20 years. The last time anyone had been down in the basement was once when the old woman's power had gone out and her neighbor was kind enough to go down and trip the breaker.
The stale damp air was inviting as she felt along the wall for the light switch. Instantly, what had become a mere tomb of memories was now a resurrected workshop. There were boxes everywhere! Some that had not even been opened since her parents forwarded them from El Salvador.
The old woman felt kind of lonely seeing as how there was no one there to help her. But then she decided that since they were all her own belongings, it was just as well that she be the one to embark on the journey to where ever they would lead her. Her eyes kept falling on a particular box that she hadn't opened since her parents sent it to her many years ago.
It seemed to beckon her. She decided that today was as good as any to open it. Peeling the tape off and removing the old newspapers her parents had used to protect the items inside, the old lady was immediately stricken with grief.
Her parent's angelic faces stared back at her. In this photo the old woman was just a girl. They had been photographed together shortly before her Quinceanera. She held the picture to her heart as her silent cry grew into a sob.
“Oh, how I miss you”, she thought of her parents. They had long since been deceased but the old woman felt as if she had just gotten the news. She thought to abandon the project all together for fear of the unknown objects that lay hidden in the boxes.
Everything reminded her of her parents. She didn't know if she could bare it. And then her eyes fell on a set of boxes sitting alone in a far corner of the basement. They had been sent after her parents died.
She imagined they contained her parent's belongings although she wasn't certain as she hadn't been brave enough to open them. And what if the urn were there? She had never seen it or held it in her hands. She had never faced the finality of her parent's death and that they weren't coming back.
Now frustrated, the old woman wished she could just remember what boxes the shells were in, which was what she had come down to the basement for in the first place. Then she could avoid stirring up emotions that she'd learned to suppress. She decided it best to just retire for the night.
The old woman tucked her family portrait under her arm, turned out the light and ascended the staircase. The photograph made her sad, but it was also a way to hold onto to her parents.
Back upstairs the old woman felt relieved. She didn't remember having packed away so much stuff and especially not so many unopened boxes. She dreaded going back down there but if she were to find the shells she knew she had to. Placing her family portrait over the mantle she stepped back and admired it.
“Papa”, she said “You are as handsome and charming as I remember.”
“And Mama, who is fairer than you?” And then she stared at her own image in the picture. “You were just a fair maiden of 13 then”, she said
“You've come a long way old girl”.
She snuggled up in her recliner under her favorite tapestry and closed her eyes. She didn't feel much like eating that night. And there she rested until finally she drifted off to sleep.
As she slept she dreamed that she was sitting along an old dusty road side, accompanied by two men who were blind. She could see herself wearing a beautiful peasant dress and it reminded her of one she'd had as a school girl.
As she and her two friends sat and talked, they heard the rumble of a crowd passing by. She didn't know what all the fuss was about but her two friends leaped up and began to run after the man who appeared to be leading the crowd.
As they ran after him she could hear them crying out repeatedly, “Son of the power, have pity on us!”
She then got up and ran over herself to see what was going on. Right then, He who was called “Son of the Power”, turned to her two friends who were blind.
“Do you believe that I can do this?” he asked them.
Her two friends cried out all the more, “Yes we believe.”
Upon their saying, He who was called, “Son of the Power” touched their eyes and said, “Let it be done for you according as you have believed.”
And immediately their eyes were opened. The man who was called, “Son of the Power” cautioned her two friends that they should not tell anyone. But they were so excited they ran and spread the news everywhere.
They ran so fast that she could not catch up to them, so she turned around. As she was heading back to where she had first been sitting, the Man who was called, “Son of the Power” beckoned for her to come and so she walked over to Him.
He then asked the old woman, “And what is it that you seek fair maiden? There must be something that you want. Everybody wants something.”
The old woman said, “No, I don't want anything...except maybe to know where I have placed my boxes of shells.”
The Man then reached into his pocket and handing her a purple ribbon he said, “This belongs to you.” And instantly, she was awake staring at the ceiling.
Once wide awake, the old woman got up and walked into her kitchen to put on a kettle for tea. “I've been having some crazy dreams”, she thought to herself. And then she realized that something from her dream had helped her to remember which boxes her shells were in.
Right before she woke up, the man in her dream that was called, “Son of the Power”, had handed her a purple ribbon and said, “This belongs to you.”
Ironically now, the old woman remembered that she had tied the boxes containing her shells with purple ribbon to remind her of where they were. Sitting down to her tea she looked over at her bag which held her special book.
“Did not your words burn in my heart?” she asked of the book. “And, was it not enough so that now there are night visions of you upon my bed?”
“It's just as well”, she said. “You're the best friend I've ever had.”
Smiling to herself she sat and enjoyed her tea. As it warmed her she could feel the love of the Power. There came a knock at the door that startled the old woman. No one ever came to her house. Barely even the post man. She wondered who it could be. Again, the stranger knocked, and so she got up and went to see.
“Who is it?” she asked from behind the door. There was no response. Again she asked, “Who's there?” And again there was no response so the old woman took a chance and slowly opened the door.
Standing before her was the Watcher whom she had met down at the dock. She hadn't noticed yesterday how large he was. But now standing in her doorway he seemed to tower over her and so she said, “I can assure you there are No men here, and I can hardly sing.”
The Watcher smiled at her and replied, “No fair maiden, this time The Great One sends a message to you.”
“But You haven't told me who this Great One is”, the old woman protested.
“It is He who stands at your door and knocks. If you hear Him and open unto Him, He will come in and dine with you.”
“So you are the Great One?” the old woman asked him.
“He indeed is the sent and the sender, but I assure you that I am not He”, the Watcher replied. And as mysteriously as he had come he was gone.
The old woman stuck her head out and looked both ways down the street, but there was no sign of the Watcher. She could smell the ocean and the scent of it seemed to lure her back to the dock.
Closing the door the old woman thought to herself, “Surely the Watcher had been mistaken, for No Great One had ever knocked at her door.”
“No matter now” and she hurried down to the basement to fetch her shells. Just as she had expected she spotted several boxes tied with purple ribbon. The weight of the shells seemed heavier now, more than likely because she was older. However, she didn't let it deter her and she wrestled with the boxes until she had them all three safely upstairs.
When she set the boxes down they made her cough as they were quite dusty. But when she opened them she found that none of the shells were broken and they were still as radiant and magnetizing as they were the day she had packed them away. She took a shell in her hand and placed it against her ear and she could still hear the Pacific Ocean.
One thing that the old woman always liked about these particular shells was that depending on the way you held them they seemed to radiate many different colors all at the same. Having inspected all three boxes of her shells and being fully satisfied with their condition, the old woman left them to take a quick shower.
When she returned she got dressed, pinned Bob's ribbon to her blouse and began choosing the shells that she would take with her. She wished she could take them all. She decided to take just enough shells to make three necklaces in the event that it turned out to be a slow day.
The old woman grabbed her bag and some copper wire to string the shells and she headed down to the ship yard. Reaching the dock she located a table that wasn't occupied so she sat down and began to string her shells.
“He's dead”, she heard a woman say through her sobs. The old woman turned around and immediately she recognized the young woman that she had counseled just yesterday.
“David is dead”, the young woman said “And I don't know what I'm going to do.”
The old woman's heart ached for her and she reached for the young woman's hand.
“It’s your fault”, the young woman snapped as she snatched her hand back. Now the old woman was confused.
“I don't understand” she said.
“It's your fault entirely! If you had never convinced me to give David another chance then my heart wouldn't be breaking right now!”, the younger woman said.
“Whatever do you mean?” asked the old woman.
“I told Richard that I couldn't marry him because you tricked me into salvaging my marriage with David! And now this morning I find out that the reason David hadn't returned any of my attorney and my calls is because he was killed by a crane a week ago down at this dreadful dock! So you see, now they're both gone and I'm left to fend for myself! Who's going to pay the mortgage? And what about the cars? God forbid if I have to now get a job! This is just all too much for me!” the young woman said as she broke done.
“You didn't love him at all”, the old woman countered. “Serves you right I suppose!” That which you've sown you are surely reaping and who is there to blame but you? Was it I who betrayed David all the while pretending to love him? Did I at any time ignore him when he needed me? Was it I who allowed the lusts of the flesh and the pride of life to seduce me into Richards arms? Dare you come down here and blame me, when it was you who stood with David before his family and friends and made a vow to him and didn't keep it?!”, the old lady yelled now standing.
The old woman noticed that the young woman was now sobbing uncontrollably and she began to feel badly.
“My dear girl”, she said, “Rather than counting this a loss, see the opportunity to grow.” I don't know how your story will end but, you must accept that you've helped to write it.” And the old woman sat down and returned to stringing her beautiful shells on the copper wire.
The young woman stood in disbelief at how the old woman had addressed her. But she couldn't deny the truth of her words and as much as she hated to admit it, the old woman had been right about her. As the young woman walked away she thought to apologize to the old woman for how she had talked to her, but she still had a lot more growing to do.
As the old woman completed her first necklace she felt so proud of it. She held it up toward the sun and the colors seemed to dance across the shells. Just then she attracted her first customer; a woman on her way back to Guadalajara. The woman had been looking for a souvenir when she noticed the old woman's necklace glistening in the sunlight.
“What a gorgeous necklace”, she said. “Is it handmade?” she asked the old woman.
“Yes, it is” the old woman exclaimed. “In fact I just completed it a few moments ago.”
“It really is lovely,” the woman said. “How much will you take for it?”
“Just $10”, the old woman said. “I really only make them for fun.”
“I couldn't do that”, the woman replied. “The necklace is much more valuable than that. The shells themselves are like none I've ever seen. And to top it off its hand made. Will you take $50 for it?” the woman asked.
“I guess I will”, replied the old woman. “I'm sorry I don't have a box to put it in for you,”
“That's quite alright”, the woman said. “It's so beautiful I must wear it right now.” She paid the old lady for the necklace and scurried on her way to board her ship.
The morning went on that way and before long the old woman had sold all three of her necklaces. She felt like a young merchant woman again. She couldn't wait to get home and string more shells.
On the dock the hustle and bustle of the day was in full swing and the woman was enjoying every minute of it. She could smell the food on Carlos' food cart, although she'd decided she'd had enough for one week. She could hear children laughing and she could see them walking along happily with their parents as they boarded ships, bound for wherever they were going. The seagulls were out aggravating passersby for their food items, and she even noticed a few squirrels at play.
As she sat at the table by herself she reflected on the events of the morning. She felt sorry for the young woman who had lost her husband. “Such a tragedy”, she thought. She also thought about her own response to the woman's attack on her.
The old woman felt like something had gotten into her that she'd never felt before. Like the woman's accusations against her caused words to spring up out of her that she'd otherwise never have said to anyone. Never the less, she hoped she had gotten through to the young woman about the lessons of love.
“Love isn't something you can take for granted”, she said. “If ever you find yourself in possession of love, you've got to hold onto it! There are so many people in the world searching for love”, she thought, “Even me at my age!”
“But the ones, who cherish it the least, always seem to find it. Maybe because they need it the most”, she said to herself.
The old lady decided to take a walk up the dock for a little exercise. She felt unusually energetic today and she just couldn't sit in one spot as she normally did. There was so much happening on the dock and she wanted to see it.
A crowd was gathering just a little ways down from her and she was curious to know what the commotion was about. So picking up her bag she began to walk in the direction of the crowd. To her surprise she saw something that she hadn't in many years. There was a mime giving a performance and he was doing a very good job. His face was painted the traditional way and he wore all black clothing and white gloves.
The last time the old woman had watched a mime perform, she was back in El Salvador at a carnival. She couldn't have been more than nine or ten years old. It was a very long time ago and she was surprised that she could even remember it at all. But somehow she did remember it, like it was just yesterday. The mime was drawing quite a bit of attention as was the idea. People were laughing and trying to guess what he was communicating.
“It's amazing how all of these people can look at the same thing but all come up with different interpretations for what it means”, she thought. “Life too is that way in general”, she said to herself.
The crowd was growing rather quickly, so she decided to keep moving down the dock. The old woman hadn't gotten far when she noticed a kite that had gotten away from a little boy. The young fellow was running frantically trying to catch up to it. It seemed to land right at her feet and so she reached down and grabbed it for him.
“Thank you old lady”, he said as he ran up to her in tears.
“You're quite welcome young man,” she laughed as she handed him the kite.
All of a sudden the little boys face became confused and he asked he
r, “Are you a witch?”
The old woman laughed again and said, “That depends on how early in the morning you ask me.”
The little boy then hurried along with his kite and the old woman took up her walking again. She wondered what it was about her appearance that had made the little boy presume that she might be a witch. Maybe it was her glasses. They were quite old and pointed, even cat like.
“Or maybe it's just time to cover all of these grays in my hair”, she thought. She laughed and continued to walk.
She was actually beginning to feel alive again, and not like a statue staring out into the distance watching the ships from whither they came hence and back out again. As she walked, she wondered about the man who called himself a Watcher. She wondered what exactly a Watcher was, and who was his boss whom he called the Great One. And even more importantly, how he had found out where she lived.
She also thought about poor Bob. She began to run her hand across his ribbon that she had worn pinned to her blouse. She couldn't believe that something seemingly so trivial had caused him to kill himself. She also wondered how old he had been, and where he might have been standing when he cast his last letter upon the water.
“Too bad for Bob”, the old woman thought. “Problems like his turn around every day. Actually, problems arise to help us grow. To help us become more creative and more resourceful. They're really nothing to kill ourselves over”, the old woman said.
She figured Bob had been much younger than she, or he might have known that. By this time the old woman had done quite a bit of walking. So she found an empty table and sat down to rest her feet.
“So many things go on here every day”, she thought as she looked around. She wondered how in the world it was all being orchestrated to happen at the same time.
There were seaman running this way and that, carrying rope and equipment. Children were flying kites with their parents in tow. Merchants were selling all kinds of goods and even Carlos just arriving to America had already set up shop and was selling food. Seagulls were flying. Squirrels were chasing each other, and she'd even seen a family of ducks making their way down the dock back out to the water.
She was amazed at how perfectly they all seemed to be co-existing. Nobody seemed to be particularly bothered by what the others were doing.
“The whole world should be this way”, she said aloud. “Then maybe there would be no more wars.”
She couldn't believe that in all the years she'd been coming here, that she hadn't noticed all of this going on. She normally just stood in the same spot, secretly hoping that nobody noticed her there.
Yesterday was the first time in many years that she'd bought food that was sold at the dock. She normally packed her own lunch which consisted of the same things every day; tuna with lettuce and tomato on rye with a bottle of water. On days that she felt really daring she'd drink a Pepsi.
The old woman started eating sandwiches when she'd first come to America. At that time she couldn't afford much else. When her business began to pick up she didn't see any reason to upset a good routine, so she stuck with it. Every now and then she'd bake a pastry of some kind. But other than that her routine was pretty much the same every day. She'd lived in several parts of California since she'd come from El Salvador, but her diet had pretty much remained consistent over the years.
As the old woman sat at the table looking this way and that, she noticed what appeared to be a movie camera crew coming toward her. The closer they came the more she wondered what they could be shooting down at the dock. Right in front of her now, one of the camera crew asked her if she wanted to be an extra in a movie.
The old woman laughed and said, “I'm sorry young fellow, but my days for being discovered have long been over I'm afraid.” Although she was flattered that he had asked her.
At her refusal the camera crew continued to make their way down the dock. She couldn't believe that they even shot scenes for movies here. The old woman wondered if she'd ever been in one and not known it. She laughed, although she was curious.
“This dock is really a peculiar place”, she said. She wondered how old it was and how many lives it had seen. “Millions of people dock here every year”, she said.
“Normally they're in such a rush that they don't even notice how beautiful this place is, or even what all things are going on here”, she thought.
She'd been coming there for many years herself, and she hadn't even noticed until today. The old woman decided that now was as good a time as ever to read a few lines from her special book.
She had grown accustomed to just opening it up, and reading the first thing her eyes fell upon and so she did: “There is an appointed time for everything, and a time for every affair under the sun.” Reading this made her laugh. She felt as if the book were trying to tell her that today was her appointed time to notice all of the beauty and goings on around her at the dock.
“Clever Little Book”, she said. And she put it away. She then pulled out her tuna sandwich and began to enjoy her lunch. It wasn't a very exciting lunch, but it would hold her until she got home. Actually, she had noticed that the older she was getting, the less she ate.
“Food just doesn’t taste as good as it used to”, the old woman thought. Nowadays, she only ate just enough to keep her from withering away.
As if magically, the sun began to set. The old woman hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. The whole day was nearly spent, and so she gathered her things and started home. As she got closer to her home, she wished the man that called himself a Watcher were waiting there. There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Reaching home the old woman went inside. She took off Bob's ribbon and placed it on the mantle, smiled at her parents and bid them Good Night and snuggled into her favorite chair.