The Year of the Fire Monkey was coming. Pluto, the small but mighty planet was pulling out the stops making it very uncomfortable whenever Sophie lingered in old-and-outmoded costumes or addictions dressed as innocent habit. Tampering with her dreams was no longer off limits. Was she awake or asleep? She couldn't tell.
"Notice how you feel," her teacher counseled. "Especially around the full moons and the dark moons pay special attention." The twenty-first century was an extraordinary time to learn. Thanks to the technology that was once reserved for spies Sophie Lei Maku'e could watch and listen to respected elders who looked like her, made jokes she could have heard in her mother's kitchen; language and culture wove a security blanket. If she was forgetting common knowledge, maybe, it was the sort that was forgettable.
The inconvenient memory lapses made for interesting encounters, sending a wobble to the way she engaged in small talk. The smell of freshly baked almond cake cooled, and anytime now the old kettle would be hot enough to tell her "The boils on!" A generous slice of Almond-Poppy Seed Cake and a cup of Lemon-Ginger Tea promised comfort without harm. At least that's how she figured things. The cake had no flour (gluten was all too damaging now), there was maple syrup. Instead of Wild Forest Black Tea (which now gave her the jitters) Sophie was steeping a bag of Lemon-Ginger Tea. Sitting to enjoy her afternoon snack the memory of an episode in the dentist's waiting room finally pieced itself together. She'd been trying to remember how the three-way exchange took place.
"The weather's changing," Sophie said as she stood looking out the window. Clouds collected and moved slowly into the recently blue sky. A woman with large red round plastic frames and blonde hair cut straight across her forehead and below her ears tugged at her red coat. "My APP said it's going to rain at 11:00. I'm from Southern California, and I just love rain. It could rain every day of the week, and I'd be fine with it."
"You've come to the right place," Sophie thought to herself, right ... another California! but said. "Do you live nearby?"
"Just this side of the bridge." That was close, this was her neighborhood. Sophie was standing after a ninety-minute drive.
A second woman sat behind her near the water cooler bundled in a blue denim coat. "My APP said it's gonna rain at two this afternoon." Sophie made a point of catching the eyes of both women who looked to their devices to determine weather.She didn't say what was going through her mind. The young assistant stepped through the door and called her name, it was Sophie's turn to sit in the chair. The small talk faded.
Weeks later, with the hot tea and warm cake becoming part of her Sophie remembered the punchline to that dentist office interlude. The feisty young Hawaiian teacher from Keaukaha who taught kilo wore a tee shirt that read, YOU'RE THE APP!
After almost a decade of living in the same place, Sophie was feeling cramped. She needed to get out. She wanted to move. But that was easier said than done. Where to? Forward or back? The dreams weren't clear, or if they were she didn't remember them when she woke. Suffocating. She caught sight of her brother. Inhaling felt heavy.
"I gotta go back, but I know like." The sound of his version of Pidgin wrapped her in comfort. They'd had such fun in the dream. She dreamed of her dead brother often.
"Would you like some of this soup?" She asked a favorite cousin still somewhere in dreams. A stack of pots offered a way to share a thick winter squash soup, Sophie reached for the pot of top. When she poured it into one of the pots she saw that bits of pot had flaked into the soup. Black specks mixed with the freshly made soup. Not a good way to share the goods.
"You're bilingual, switching from Pidgin to a full-fledged English." The tiny bird was back. Hovering just beyond the edges of dream, the Anna's wings stirred the air between them. The comment tickled Sophie.
"It's a relief to know I can still do that. With so little practice or reason to speak Pidgin I worry that I'll lose the taste for it. In dreams I'm able. People show up to draw it from me." It didn't seem to matter that Sophie was not sure if she was sleeping and dreaming or dreaming to wake herself.
Flying backward as if to get a better or different view of the woman the hummingbird left Sophie with this, "I've also heard you harmonizing with a lovely bit of near-base to a falsetto."
An eavesdropper had found an open channel.
Somewhere between a memory,
The logjam was freeing itself.
"Yes, that was me belting the harmony. Don't be afraid," Sophie confirmed. To herself she thought, Let those high tones ring. I'll fill in below.
Click here for Sophie's Almond Cake recipe.
"Notice how you feel," her teacher counseled. "Especially around the full moons and the dark moons pay special attention." The twenty-first century was an extraordinary time to learn. Thanks to the technology that was once reserved for spies Sophie Lei Maku'e could watch and listen to respected elders who looked like her, made jokes she could have heard in her mother's kitchen; language and culture wove a security blanket. If she was forgetting common knowledge, maybe, it was the sort that was forgettable.
The inconvenient memory lapses made for interesting encounters, sending a wobble to the way she engaged in small talk. The smell of freshly baked almond cake cooled, and anytime now the old kettle would be hot enough to tell her "The boils on!" A generous slice of Almond-Poppy Seed Cake and a cup of Lemon-Ginger Tea promised comfort without harm. At least that's how she figured things. The cake had no flour (gluten was all too damaging now), there was maple syrup. Instead of Wild Forest Black Tea (which now gave her the jitters) Sophie was steeping a bag of Lemon-Ginger Tea. Sitting to enjoy her afternoon snack the memory of an episode in the dentist's waiting room finally pieced itself together. She'd been trying to remember how the three-way exchange took place.
"The weather's changing," Sophie said as she stood looking out the window. Clouds collected and moved slowly into the recently blue sky. A woman with large red round plastic frames and blonde hair cut straight across her forehead and below her ears tugged at her red coat. "My APP said it's going to rain at 11:00. I'm from Southern California, and I just love rain. It could rain every day of the week, and I'd be fine with it."
"You've come to the right place," Sophie thought to herself, right ... another California! but said. "Do you live nearby?"
"Just this side of the bridge." That was close, this was her neighborhood. Sophie was standing after a ninety-minute drive.
A second woman sat behind her near the water cooler bundled in a blue denim coat. "My APP said it's gonna rain at two this afternoon." Sophie made a point of catching the eyes of both women who looked to their devices to determine weather.She didn't say what was going through her mind. The young assistant stepped through the door and called her name, it was Sophie's turn to sit in the chair. The small talk faded.
Weeks later, with the hot tea and warm cake becoming part of her Sophie remembered the punchline to that dentist office interlude. The feisty young Hawaiian teacher from Keaukaha who taught kilo wore a tee shirt that read, YOU'RE THE APP!
~*~
"I gotta go back, but I know like." The sound of his version of Pidgin wrapped her in comfort. They'd had such fun in the dream. She dreamed of her dead brother often.
"Would you like some of this soup?" She asked a favorite cousin still somewhere in dreams. A stack of pots offered a way to share a thick winter squash soup, Sophie reached for the pot of top. When she poured it into one of the pots she saw that bits of pot had flaked into the soup. Black specks mixed with the freshly made soup. Not a good way to share the goods.
~*~
"You're bilingual, switching from Pidgin to a full-fledged English." The tiny bird was back. Hovering just beyond the edges of dream, the Anna's wings stirred the air between them. The comment tickled Sophie.
"It's a relief to know I can still do that. With so little practice or reason to speak Pidgin I worry that I'll lose the taste for it. In dreams I'm able. People show up to draw it from me." It didn't seem to matter that Sophie was not sure if she was sleeping and dreaming or dreaming to wake herself.
Flying backward as if to get a better or different view of the woman the hummingbird left Sophie with this, "I've also heard you harmonizing with a lovely bit of near-base to a falsetto."
An eavesdropper had found an open channel.
Somewhere between a memory,
The logjam was freeing itself.
"Yes, that was me belting the harmony. Don't be afraid," Sophie confirmed. To herself she thought, Let those high tones ring. I'll fill in below.
Click here for Sophie's Almond Cake recipe.
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