Saturday, November 05, 2011





                                                                          A short visit





                     I stop the bus letting a multitude of people walk up the steps into the bus. A couple of commuters
invite the old woman to go ahead of them, but the woman refuses and prefers to get on last. I
look at her and see an old black woman with a shriveled face, just like Auntie Kolsum!
Auntie Kolsum used to get her dark skin from working in her little patch of a vineyard for hours
under the sun. She was a wise and kind woman who spoke with everyone in their own language.
Every time there was a discord in a household, they would go straight to Auntie Kolsum. She
was the chief justice of the neighborhood! I was in America the day the news came that she had
passed away and I never got the chance to see her again.
I look at the woman again. She is decked in red except for a white hat. I wonder why
African Americans have such affinity for the color red! An ambulance screeches by, making the
old woman tuck her walking stick under her arm and cover her ears with her hands. The
ambulance disappears in the distance and the old woman climbs up the steps with a frown on her
face. I strike up a conversation, “Where are you going, ma’am?
“To the cemetery,” she replies scowling.
That’s amazing! Every time Auntie was mad and we would ask her where she was going,
she would respond the same way, “To the cemetery!” And make us laugh.
I start to laugh not realizing the microphone is on.
“Isn’t this the 358?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Well then, “Ever green” cemetery should be on this route, right?”
She is right! There is a cemetery on my route but until now, I hadn’t paid much attention
to its name nor had anybody got on or off the bus at that stop.
“You are right! I had completely forgotten about it! So you are going to the “Ever green
” cemetery?
She scrutinizes me as her eyes become smaller in her face. “If you think I’ll be staying
there, you are dead wrong! This is only a very short visit!
I start to laugh again and she says, more loudly this time, “Well, now that you have
announced it to all on the microphone, might as well tell them my last words.”
I tap the microphone and surely enough it’s on. I look at the passengers’ faces in my
rearview mirror and feel obliged to repeat the old woman’s last sentence.
“Ms. (Malka, she says) Malka is on her way for a short visit to the cemetery “Ever green
”, but she has no intention of staying there whatsoever!” The bus explodes with laughter.
When I reach the stop in front of the cemetery, the old woman is the only one who gets
off the bus. The door is still open when she turns around and smiling, she says, “I told you it was
just a short visit. If you return in half an hour, you can pick me up o the other side