PART 2.
This is a short story of sorts that might or might not be part of a larger cycle. If so, it is the very first story. So, let’s say story 1 of 6. This is a younger girl than the Lisa in “Lisa and her reflection.” Back then obstacles were puzzles to solve. Like last time, I’m going to chunk this across a few posts. Bear with me! There are some more meditations on emotions out there… and I will return to them. But right now I’m trying to listen to something a little different.
By this time the sun was starting to fall back to earth. Lunch had come and gone long ago, and Lisa’s belly grumbled. Still the streets twisted and turned. Closer, but still out of reach, the tall tower of the King raised itself over the roofs. It glistened with scales like the skin of a fish and usually this made it look like a rainbow, but today the tower was so bright that Lisa could not look up without blinding herself. It was like trying to look up at the sun, which is something that you shouldn’t do.
So Lisa kept her head down and walked on down streets and around corners. Her feet hurt, and her arms ached from pulling the suitcase. People, wearing their sunglasses, bumped into her because now was the time that grownups poured out on to the streets on their way home from work. They crashed into light poles and collided with the sides of buildings, and Lisa had to dodge this way and that. The exhaust from the cars made her throat hurt, and her eyes felt dry. She wondered if this meant that their color had gotten lost along the way – dark brown circles lying somewhere on a sidewalk, stepped on and swept up, and she wondered if this was why as she walked on deeper into the city the store signs made less and less sense to her. Mixed with words were lines that she no longer recognized.
“It’s the words,” said Willy.
“What?” said Lisa as she pressed herself against the brick of a building and waited for a group of shambling grownups to pass.
“The words that you gave away.”
“Oh. Right. More will come. They always do. It just takes a while.” Lisa was looking right and left and trying to figure out which way to go.
“I’m hungry,” said Willy from inside the suitcase.
Lisa sighed. She was hungry, too. And lost. And as dusk draped over them, she began to worry about the trolls, because everyone knows that night is when trolls become tricky. Already the streets were clearing and the swallows were out, darting this way and that, in search of dinner.
Lisa watched them with longing, and then said to herself, “O.k. If I were food how would I find myself?” She closed her eyes to think over this problem, and just when she did so her nose twitched. And then twitched again. Lisa opened her eyes. Yes, most definitely that was the smell of food, and not just any food, but the most delicious food: rich broth, slurpy noodles, shavings of greens, and sliced egg.
Lisa closed her eyes again, because sometimes when you are lost with your eyes you can get found with your nose, and she began to walk this way and that, following the growing odor. She used one hand to feel the rough sides of buildings and the other to pull her suitcase, and after a few moments she heard the jingle of a bell on a door, and opening her eyes found herself outside of a noodle shop that was stuck all crooked like a loose tooth in the middle of a block of taller buildings. And not only that, but directly across from the noodle shop, like Jack’s famous beanstalk or like the world’s largest tree, rose the tower of the King. In the falling light it was silvery, and rising up with it, like tethers for a balloon, hundreds of ladders disappeared up to the very, very top.
Lisa gulped.
“What’s wrong?” mumbled her suitcase.
“Nothing. Mind your own business.”
“Scared of heights?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, forget heights. I’m hungry.”
Lisa turned away from the tower, and walked into the noodle shop. The door jangled shut behind her, and now the odor of broth and noodles was so strong that her mouth began to water. She could hear bubblings and sizzlings, and steam poured out of a window beside a swinging door that led to the kitchen. Lisa took Willy out of the suitcase and propped him up on the counter and then climbed up on to a stool. Soon an old lady who was somehow both round and crooked at the same time, a bit like a fluffed up bird, slowly waddled over to them. She wore an apron and used a broom like a cane. Up on her stool Lisa was taller.
“We would like some noodles, please.”
The old lady cocked her head to one side, and then reaching into her apron pocket she pulled out a set of teeth that she put into her mouth.
“Eh?”
“Noodles. We’d like to order some noodles please.”
“Yes, we do have nice noodles!” and with that the lady pulled her teeth back out, stuck them in her apron and began tiredly to sweep the floor around Lisa’s suitcase.
Lisa looked at Willy, and Willy, sadly frowning and propped up on the counter beside a salt shaker, stared back.
“O.k., o.k.” said Lisa, “Don’t worry, I’m on it,” and with that she turned to the old lady.
“Excuse me. Maam?”
The old lady paused in her sweeping, reached into her apron, and put her teeth back into her mouth.
“Eh?”
“I could trade you a few words for some noodles. My friend and I are very hungry.”
The lady’s eyes brightened, and she rubbed her hands together.
“Yes, I do love words, especially the words of children!” and with that she dropped her broom and began to rub her hands together. “Are they fresh?”
“See for yourself.” And with that Lisa hopped down, opened up her suitcase, and stepped back.
“Ohhhhh” clucked the old lady. And then, moving surprisingly fast the old lady rushed at the suitcase and began to peck away at that suitcase like a hungry chicken.
“Hey!” shouted Lisa.
Words flew this way and that. And Willy, propped up on the counter stared sadly at the whole scene.
“You stop it!” shouted Lisa, but now the old lady was knocking over tables and chairs as she shuttled about the room pecking up the words that had been strewn about. And before you could say, “I like cucumber sandwiches,” the old lady had flown from the room and into the kitchen, and all that was left were the overturned chairs, stools, and the hinged kitchen door that swung slowly back and forth.
Lisa stared at the room in disbelief, and then she knelt down beside her empty suitcase and began to zip it back up. As she did so, she happened to notice two gleaming spools under the counter – two words that had fallen there and escaped the old lady’s pecking, so she reached out and grabbed a hold of them and popped them into her mouth for safe keeping.
Just as she did so, Lisa heard a noise, and turning saw the kitchen door swing open. The old lady, once again moving as slow as could be, and breathing heavily, waddled out with a tray. On the tray was a steaming bowl of ramen. Lisa silently watched, feeling the words in her mouth like two marbles. The old lady creaked over to the counter and stopped. Lisa stared at her, but the old lady just stood there with the tray. Lisa took it and lifted it up to the counter where Willy sat propped up beside the salt shaker. The old lady turned and began to waddle back to the kitchen.
“Mmm-hmm,” said Lisa.
The old lady stopped, cocked her head to one side, like a bird, and then reached into her apron pocket for her teeth.
“Eh?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You’re welcome, dear. We do have nice noodles.” The old lady once again started walking, but then stopped and turned back to address Lisa.
“Oh, and forget the King. It’s your friend Sebastian who needs finding, not the King. And Sebastian is always with the trolls.”
Once again, the old lady started walking, and once again she stopped.
“Let the walrus finish his soup. I’ll take care of him until you get back.”
Willy, with the bowl of ramen in front of him looked sadly uncomfortable at this news, and Lisa looking fondly at him said, “Mmm mm hm hmmm, hm-mh?”
“Why am I always so sad?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Because this is the most delicious ramen in the city, and I can’t eat it. I’m just a stuffed animal, you know.”
This made Lisa smile, and she was still smiling when stepped back out on to the sidewalk and the door of the noodle shop jangled shut behind her. As she walked away, she saw through storefront window her abandoned suitcase on the floor and poor, stuffed, sad Willy propped above it, on the counter, staring at the bowl of ramen that steamed away inches from his nose.