A secret that will remain secret
The delicious aroma of coffee, bacon and pancakes greet me every morning at the local, slightly down at the heels breakfast shack. It is nearly 8 a.m. The restaurant is filling up quickly with regulars who, having actually never properly met, nod to one another in familiar greeting. This place is popular, so it is the custom to share booths with people you’ve nodded to, but don’t know.
I am happy to see a friendly young woman sit down opposite me.
“Morning,” we nod to one another.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
Her silver dangle earrings glint in the overhead light, a contrast to her ruddy cheeks and brown wind tangled hair. Nearly gasping, she blurts, “Oh, I’m so glad I got to sit with you!”
That is a pleasant opening. I smile in encouragement.
She continues, “I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long.”
What in the world is she talking about? “Oh?” I hesitantly speak. Then comes the surprise.
“I know your secret. I know what you are and I would never ever let it get around if you say not to.”
I take a big sip of coffee and gaze expectantly at this self-defined mind reader, thinking she must be a neighborhood eccentric one occasionally hears about.
Something tells me not to encourage her, to remain friendly, divert her with conversation about the weather, to finish breakfast and get out of there as fast as I can. I do wonder, though, what she thinks my secret is. The answer is not long in coming.
“You are a witch, a good witch, a white witch.”
I give her a dubious look. She pulls out a cellphone, “Hey, Siri, what is a white witch?” She holds the phone up to me. Siri’s voice, with a charming British accent, explains that white witches are like good fairies. They take care of people and help with life’s problems.
Thank goodness — it could have been a lot worse.
My seatmate is overjoyed with Siri’s useful explanation. I am,
Something tells me not to encourage her, to remain friendly, divert her with conversation about the weather, to finish breakfast and get out of there as fast as I can. I do wonder, though, what she thinks my secret is. The answer is not long in coming.
too. White witches are a good sort, acceptable company, nothing to be scared of.
I wolf down my hot cakes and bacon, spoon up the remaining maple syrup, begin to edge out of the booth to make my get away. What can I do or say to put a cap on this nonsense? I hope she won’t go around outing me to the neighborhood!
I say to her, “You are so intuitive, I’ll take you up on your offer to keep my secret just between the two of us.”
She smiles, beaming at me in solidarity. We have an agreement. My steps are light as I leave the restaurant.
Sometimes the craziest things happen when you least expect them.
Valerie Jelenfy Stilson is a San Rafael resident. IJ readers are invited to share their stories of life experiences for our How It Is column, which runs Tuesdays in the Lifestyles section. All stories must not have been published in part or in its entirety previously. Send your stories of no more than 600 words to lifestyles@marinij.com. Please write “How It Is” in the subject line and include your full name, hometown and a daytime phone number. The IJ reserves the right to edit them for publication.