CHAPTER 1
A World Created after I Was Five
Life on earth must have been created after my fifth birthday. That isbecause I do not remember anything of life before my fifth birthday,but I remember a lot after it.
I remember I had a sweet little girlfriend, I lived in a friendlyneighborhood, and everyone liked me. There might have been a fewwho did not like me, but I chose to ignore them, just like I chose toignore life on earth before my fifth birthday.
I also remember some very peculiar adults who were great fun towatch and listen to, like the fellow who was called Your Highness,because he was the tallest man in town. Another one was calledMonster Abraham, not only because he was six feet tall, but becausehe was about that wide too. He looked like two sumo wrestlersinstalled on top of each other. The fact that his left eye sat in his faceabout an inch lower than the right eye did not add anything to hisbeauty either. Monster Abraham made a very good living by sellinglottery tickets, and most people believed that his unusual looks wouldbring them good luck.
There was also a man who looked like he was on loan fromanother planet. He was tall, very skinny, wore a long gray beard, andhad very pale skin. He always dressed in black. Looking at him, onefelt he might be reabsorbed back into the astral plane at any moment.He was called Mr. Egg because he measured the price of everything ineggs. For instance, if he would be asked how much he paid for a shirthe had just bought, he would have said something like, "twenty-fiveeggs." He believed money was not putting across a true picture ofwhat was spent to buy the shirt, but saying "twenty-five eggs" couldtrigger an image of "twenty-five breakfasts," and that was a morevisual understanding of the shirt's cost.
There was an undying story in town about the Egg Man debatinga local judge in a tax payment hearing. People loved to repeat thisstory to each other again and again even though most of them hadheard it several times.
The Egg Man owned and operated a haberdashery store, andsome of his taxes were delinquent. When he was summoned to courtfor a hearing, legend says the following conversation took placebetween the judge and Egg Man:
"Mr. Egg don't you have a real name?"
"No, Your Honor. If I did, no one would associate it with me. Iam known as Egg Man by everyone."
"Why did you not pay your taxes?"
"What taxes would they be?"
"Prosperity taxes."
"Your Honor, all my life I lived in poverty, and I have never seenprosperity."
"Nevertheless, your store will be sold to the highest bidder tosatisfy your unpaid taxes. Please ... sign where it is indicated."
"Why am I being asked to sign, Your Honor?"
"Because it is your store that is being sold."
"If it is my store, then I am not selling it!"
"This court has the authority, and I am selling it."
"In that case, Your Honor, it is more appropriate that you sign for it."
Egg Man's store was full of boxes, and each box had a sample ofwhat it contained (such as a zipper or a button) glued to the face ofthe box. His store was sold sight unseen to a bargain hunter who wasthe highest bidder. When the bargain hunter took possession of thestore and opened the boxes one by one, they were all empty. The EggMan, anticipating what the court would do, sold but never replacedall his merchandise.
The Egg Man was the hero in town for a long time. Even now,he is known as the man who defeated a very unpopular and unjusttax. When he was asked by a reporter of a local newspaper to makea comment, he said, "You couldn't get a dozen eggs for the entirecontents of that store."
Getting back to my girlfriend, I was close to six, and she waseight years old. That age difference was tremendous. She looked somuch more mature and grown up than me that everyone on thestreet was puzzled by our closeness. But she's the one who made thedecision. One day when I was playing soccer with kids my own ageon a dusty street, she came, took me by the hand, and said, "Let'sgo for a walk." We did, and we found that we had a wide variety ofinterests to talk about. After that, every time I came out of my house,she also came out, and we continued our talks. I used to get plentyof material for talking from reading old newspapers and listening toadults conversing among themselves. Once, while trying to walk andread a piece of old newspaper, I bumped my head on an electric pole,and I got a nasty bump on my forehead. I should have been angrywith myself for my carelessness, but I wasn't. I got a lot of loving carefor it from Tamar.
Yes that was her name: Tamar. She was a well-dressed,good-looking girl with long hair down to her waist and a veryconfidant smile. When she held my hand, I got an inexplicable feelingof well-being—just like the feeling I got when a strong wind madeher long hair swipe my face.
Tamar was by far the most beautiful creature in the neighborhood,and she was contrasted by an old man who lived in the same buildingas ours. His name was Samuel, and at the risk of being rude, I willhave to say he was the ugliest man in the neighborhood. At his veryadvanced age, he had wrinkled purpling skin and veins popping outall over him; he was somewhat scary. Samuel was wheelchair bound,and every time I passed by him, he would try to hand me some coins.He said something sounding like "chichiros" which made me evenmore scared, so I ran faster.
A few years went by before I found out that the old man, Samuel,was trying to tell me "cigarettes" when he kept on saying "chichiros."Because he was wheelchair bound and couldn't do it himself, hewanted me to buy them for him. I found that out a little too late.Samuel had died only a few days before. My girlfriend, Tamar, alsodisappeared. She moved out of the neighborhood to another house.All that made me think that perhaps when the old and ugly isremoved, the young and pretty also is lost. We needed those two tocontrast each other. How would I have known the profound beauty ofTamar if I didn't have Samuel to compare, and how could I not havefound the old man also beautiful after I understood that he made thecomparison possible?
I was feeling very sad. I should have paid more attention, and Ishould have understood Samuel. How happy I would have been nowto buy his cigarettes for him. I felt I was going to sink into a deepstate of self-pity if something did not come and pull me back from it.It appeared only a miracle could save my mood—and it did. In thosedays, when a miracle was needed, a miracle appeared.
I did not know why miracles were particularly friendly tochildren, but they were. When a child needed a miracle, it happenedimmediately, but when an adult needed the miracle, it took forever tohappen (and sometimes it never did). It looked like miracles did notbelieve in adults—or on second thought, maybe I will have to flipthat. It is the adults who did not believe in miracles, and that is whythey did not appear to them. The particular miracle that saved mymood was the fact that the time was three thirty, and we had in ourfamily a tradition of having a glass of hot milk and a big chocolatebar every afternoon. The chocolate bar was for stirring the hot milkand biting off a small piece at a time. I could not possibly miss sucha wonderful tradition for sentimentality. Plus there would be a lot oftime to be sad later.
CHAPTER 2
The Egg Man
Chocolate and hot milk did a very good job of pulling me away fromsadness, but only for a while. The old man Samuel had a big family,and they were mourning him very loudly and extensively. It wasimpossible to watch a family that lived in the same building as we didand that was in so much sorrow, and not be dispirited ourselves.
I decided to do something about it, but didn't know what. Istarted with trying to read the family Bible, hoping there would besome spiritual guidance in it for such occasions. After reading justa few pages, a question came to my mind. Somehow I knew thisquestion would not be well received, but I had to ask it: "What isGod's address?" I did not get any understandable answer to that one,but for some reason that was not clear to me, I received a lot of poorlydisguised anger having something to do with blasphemy. Finally, aftera lot of very deep contemplation, I found what I thought would bethe perfect solution to the surviving family members' suffering whena death occurs.
I wasted no time in proudly revealing my solution to my parents: "Ithink family members should die at the same time, all together." Then Iadded, "That way there will be no one left to mourn." This last piece ofbrilliance of mine brought with it not only disapproval but also panic.The panic was due to the belief that "God hears the children and grantstheir wishes."
I was beginning to understand that these issues were not to besolved by short, quick, and clever slogans. They required seriousdeep thought. At that point, all I could observe was that the subjectof death was ignored by everyone even though it happened sooneror later to everyone. The reason as to why it was ignored was notpresently understandable by me. I was sure that big brains suchas scientists, philosophers, and professors knew the answers, and Iwould come across it in the future. In the meantime, something quiteordinary but very amusing was taking place on our street, and I hadto run and watch it. There would be plenty of time for morbid issueslater.
What was taking place involved Madam Hamalia, who was alsoknown as Mother of Cats. Madam Hamalia was a respected residentof our neighborhood who had immigrated from a country behindthe Iron Curtain. She managed to smuggle a few dollars that she hadsaved past the authorities by an ingenious method. She broke thehandle of a frying pan, stuffed the money in the handle, and weldedit back onto the pan. Thus, she prevented her lifetime savings frombeing confiscated when she came to this country. She lived in a smallhouse with a backyard, and she gave shelter to any homeless cat thatcame her way. That is why she was called Mother of Cats. She wasadmired by most residents for her ingenuity with the frying pan andher compassion toward cats. She would talk to her cats, and theybehaved like they understood her. Every morning, she walked theshort distance from her home to Market Street where two butcherstores of our town were located. There she collected scrap donationsfor the cats. The cats followed her with military precision.
This morning's events, which I rushed to watch, started with abully attempting to kick one of Madam Hamalia's cats. The bullyprobably did not expect too much of a danger to himself fromkicking a woman's cat, but he also probably did not know that thisparticular woman had a reputation of being "the only man in theneighborhood."
Without saying anything, the Mother of Cats grabbed the bully'sthroat and gave a strong enough squeeze to make the bully turn blue.She probably would have finished him off if others had not come outand taken over the fight, but they did. The tallest man in town (whowas called Your Highness) was the first to sprint out of his house, stillin his pajamas and bedroom slippers, but wearing a very expensiveblack fedora wool hat with a colorful peacock feather on the side.
By now, the bully must have understood that he had picked afight in the wrong neighborhood, but there was nothing he could doto stop what he started.
The man called Your Highness continued to run at high speedright at the bully until he pinned him down against a building's wallwith one inch to spare between himself and the bully. The bully wastoo paralyzed with fear to do anything. It appeared Your Highness didnot want to physically hurt the bully, but just wanted to punish himby scaring him. It also appeared that he was doing a very good job atthat.
From the bottom of his lungs, Your Highness yelled at the bully,"If you punch once, I will punch twice; if you pull a knife, I will pulla gun." And then he continued, "Only one of us can walk out of herealive, and it is not going to be you!" The message was not only heardbut was also felt on the bully's face thanks to the generous amount ofsaliva with which it was delivered.
Just then, something happened to double and triple the horror ofthe bully. The man called Monster Abraham was joining the scene.He was not running or rushing. He was walking deliberately andsure-footedly toward the bully. With his enormous bulk, he lookedlike a disaster approaching. He came as close as actually touching thebully and said, "You think you are bigger than the cat; therefore, youcan kick it. But guess what? An elephant is bigger than a camel." Bythat I understood he was implying, "Regardless of how big you mightbe, there is always something bigger than you."
The Egg Man was the last to arrive at the scene. He hit the bullywith such a ferocious karate kick on his behind that it sent him flyingabout fifteen feet away from Your Highness and Monster Abraham.Seeing this as an opportunity to stay alive, the bully ran as fast as hecould.
The Egg Man then coolly said, "He will not come this way again.If he does, he will be walking on eggs."
CHAPTER 3
Mother of Cats
The Luna Tea Garden was one of the most popular places in town.This was true during the weekdays, and even more so during theweekends when people gathered there to drink tea and to converse.The place consisted of a large garden where tables were placed in theshade of trees, and a core building called "the base" that was placed inthe middle of the garden to serve a dual purpose: a place to make andserve the tea, and a place to huddle and seek shelter from intemperateweather.
Today was not a weekend, but for some reason that did not stopa weekend-like crowd from forming. Even the slight drizzle in the airdid not make the people seek shelter in the base. People were clearlyenjoying themselves, and their reaction to the drizzle appeared to bedrinking more tea.
People coming to the Luna Tea Garden first talked about the bignews, then about less significant stories, just like the newspapers do intheir reporting. The bully incident was the big event of the week, andthat was what most of them were talking about.
I decided to make my way to the so-called VIP table. That was thetable where people like Your Highness, Monster Abraham, and othernotables well known for their bizarre personalities had their tea. Thetable was not reserved by the management for anyone in particular; ifone found an empty chair, one was free to sit there.
I found a chair close enough to the VIP table to hear what theywere saying and make a comment of my own if necessary. Sureenough, they were talking about the bully and were saying prettymuch the usual things. They were saying that the bully, like all bullies,was after an easy and cheap victory, and that he would have neverdone it in the presence of a young and strong man or in the presenceof a policeman.
I thought this was an opportunity to make a comment of my ownand make my fondness of reading pay off. I said, "There is anotherreason why all bullies are cowards and why they cannot be otherwise."I continued my comments as all heads turned toward me. "A bullybelieves it is right for him to attack those weaker than himself, andbecause of that belief, he subconsciously expects those stronger thanhimself to attack him. Since there is always `stronger than strong,' thebully lives in fear."
This is what Monster Abraham meant when he said, "An elephantis bigger than a camel." Only a person who believes it is not right toattack weak people will also subconsciously believe it is not right forothers to attack him; therefore, he is fearless. The heads that turnedtoward me a minute before were now displaying a smile of pride.A neighborhood kid not older than fifth grade level was displayingsophisticated thinking.
Someone asked Madam Hamalia why she had let go of the bully'sthroat so easily. To this she replied, "I knew others would take over. Ididn't want to be late and miss the scrap donations for the cats fromthe two butcher stores."
There were two butcher stores in town—both equally clean, wellstocked, and well priced—and yet, one of them did twice as muchbusiness as the other. No one could explain why this was so, but itwas. There was a rumor trying to explain it, to which everyoneimmediately said "ridiculous," but the rumor persisted.
