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Turquoise and Cigars.

It was a clear evening.  The sun was setting. The horizon was made up of tall glass buildings reflecting the light, as though they were trying to become something other than themselves. They worked together to make a second fiery star on the horizon.  They mixed the orange of the sun and the light, translucent blue of the glass to create a spectacle difficult for nature to achieve on its own.

I jerk forward, stretching my seat belt, as my dad stops the car quickly.  He avoids the red headed boy who is chasing after his remote control plane.  The young boy wore a blank baseball shirt and had a bowl cut parted down the middle and freckles covering his face.  He wore his jeans high and tennis shoes. His plane was safe as he waved at us in gratitude of stopping.  He smiled.  For a second he transported me to the past when model planes and cars were a hobby rather than video games and television.

We galloped to the car.  Our imaginary horses cantering with their necks in a beautiful curve.  We were making an escape from the packed house of inquisitive family members.

The liquor store had a large selection of cigars.  My dad and I don’t smoke cigars very often.  The owner of the shop understood that the minute we walked in.  She was a petite woman. She had dark, bedroom eyes, her eyelids making her look relaxed and intriguing all at once.  She wore red lipstick and slight freckles splashed her face.  I felt tipsy after two beers back at the packed house, but I could have sworn she was slurring her words faintly.

“I used to smoke cigars all the time with my father.”  She said as though she anticipated our ignorance.

“Which ones would you suggest?”  I asked.  I was impressed by her.

“These are really good in the morning with a good cup of coffee.”  She said pointing at a set sitting on the top shelf behind the glass casing.

I realized her voice was low and raspy as though she hadn’t stopped having one every morning .

“Ok we’ll take four of those. “ my dad says quickly.  He’s in a hurry to get back.  I quite enjoyed our time outside the house.

“Make sure to save your turquoise.”  She says randomly while counting the change.  She pointed at my necklace.  “There is barely any left.  Keep your turquoise and your lapis.”  This time she points at my ring.

I want to know her.  But we need to leave.

It’s dark out now.  Only the stars closest to the Earth are visible.  The moon is either waxing or waning.  I never did understand the difference.

There is no galloping back to the house.  Our horses with their curved, elegant necks have gone to bed.

I thank my dad for our little outing. He just laughs sincerely.

The men outside smoked their cigars and talked about the richness of the flavor and how to save the world.

We sat inside and ate coconut mouse, and drank coffee.  We talked about cellphones and mutual friends and style.  We told stories about guns and love and family.

I sat across from my mama.  People tell me I remind them of her.


The night ends and we kiss and hug our family members goodnight.  We walk down the front hall where the artwork of my grandfather hangs.  Every time I look at them I see something new.

We drive away towards the ocean. We will see them all again soon.


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