Friday, July 25, 2008

Five Word Friday #4

Welcome to Five Word Friday, published on Friday for the second week in a row! Something's wrong, I tell ya :) Anyway, the words for today are: pomegranate, helicopter, tissue, organic and drumming. If you participate, just stop back by and add a comment with a link to your FWF post on your own blog. Enjoy!


I sit at my kitchen table sipping my pomegranate juice, a daily ritual. Some people drink coffee. I happen to believe in the amazing powers of the pomegranate. Most people I tell about that are skeptical, but on the other hand I haven’t been sick once in the past 7 years, ever since I started doing this.

This is one of my favorite times of day, especially in my new apartment. Phileas made good on his word and his friend agreed to a trial contract. As long as I continue to pay rent in full and on time I will have a full contract in six months, and with the money I’m making at the nursery that should be no problem. Not only does my new apartment have 2 more rooms, the regular rooms, like the kitchen and dining room, even the bathroom are more spacious. Everything is clean, kept up, and in good working order. What a difference it makes! There is a dining room, in addition to the kitchen, but there is also a bay window in the kitchen with space for a little breakfast nook. The window looks out over a lush garden filled with hibiscus, rhododendrons, fiddle ferns, taro and a squat little date palm, all plants that are reminiscent to me of beaches and paradise. I usually get up before Kyra wakes up and sit and drink my pomegranate juice and enjoy being alone for a bit.

Usually my mind wanders, flitting from subject to subject like a hummingbird, never resting for long but staying only long enough to sip the nectar from each thought before moving on to the next. Today, however, and for the past few days my thoughts have been consumed with the Fraternal Order of Journeymen. It has been over two months since my encounter with Grisleigh and in that time I have not seen him or heard from him, nor have I ever met another member of this order. Sunday, August 31 is now only two days away and many of the fears I had put aside are returning. Who are they? How do they know about me? What do they want from me? How will this affect Kyra? These questions swim in useless, menacing circles in my mind, like sharks drawn by the scent of blood only to find there is no food. The ball is marked (grudgingly) on the calendar that hangs by a magnet on my fridge, and the bright orange envelope with the invitation hangs next to it. Not knowing what to expect, or what I should wear I have rented a tux, which I picked up yesterday after work and now hangs in my closet.

A helicopter roars by overhead, scattering my thoughts and startling Kyra awake. I throw back the last couple of swallows of my juice and get up to go get Kyra, noticing that it is only 6:57. Our new apartment is closer to both Mrs. Kice’s and the nursery, so we generally have a lot more time together in the mornings before we have to get going – another substantial perk to the new place. Kyra stops crying as soon as she sees me and smiles and reaches for me. I quickly change her diaper while she excitedly babbles to me and then carry her into the kitchen and sit her down in her high chair. She has added rice cereal to her usual soy formula, and, now that I can afford it, I’ve started buying the organic stuff. Usually about half of it ends up anywhere but in her mouth, but she has fun and seems to love the stuff. She continues talking, no doubt telling me about her dreams last night, or her plans for the day or something, while I make her cereal. I set the cereal down on the tray of her high chair and dip the spoon in and make it about halfway to her mouth before her fingers are in the bowl and she is sucking the stuff off of her chubby little digits. She giggles with delight and I can’t help but laugh along – what use does she have for spoons after all? It is moments like this that make all the struggle and heartache of being a single parent (or I suppose being a parent at all) worthwhile.

Once she is done eating/playing I clean up the high chair and most of the big stuff on her with a few tissues, and then it is time for her bath. Once she is clean I dress her, make sure everything is ready for Mrs. Kice’s and off we go. Mrs. Kice has grown quite fond of Kyra over the last couple of months, and I have to say that Kyra returns the favor. She knows where we are going and keeps repeating “Ga-ga, ga-ga” which I have come to understand is her name for Mrs. Kice.

“Yes, you’re going to see Ga-ga,” I confirm. She smiles and launches into a new soliloquy, no doubt about her friend. She hasn’t cried since that first week, and as time progresses she gets more and more excited about going to her nanny. Today is no exception, and having dropped her off without issue, I make my way to work.

My thoughts and worries about the Journeymen return as I walk by myself. I have tried over the intervening months to find out something about them without success. I did some research at the local library, even going so far as to request help from one of the librarians when I couldn’t find anything on my own. Nothing. I searched for them on the web. Nothing. I just don’t understand how an organization could have been around for apparently a thousand years and there be absolutely no information about them. I haven’t talked to anybody else about them, for fear of looking like a fool. Even the librarian was getting frustrated when I couldn’t tell her anything about them to help her search.

I get to the nursery and Phileas greets me warmly as usual. He lifts an eyebrow at me when I reply kind of half-heartedly.

“Sorry, Phil, got a lot on my mind today. Nothing personal.”

“Well, I guess we’re all allowed an off day now and then. Anything you want to talk about, PW?”

“No, not yet. I think it’s just something I’ve got to work through on my own, that’s all.”

“Otay, well you know I’m always available if you want to talk, right?”

“Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Hey, would you mind putting up a display of gardenias. We just got a new shipment in this morning.
“Yeah, sure.”

The rest of the day is uneventful and pretty routine, with plenty of time to think, unfortunately. Thoughts of the Journeymen keep drumming in my brain, as if in some mysterious code. I only wish I had the key to unlock the mystery. I guess Sunday will tell.

No comments: