The Circle

 I only saw it out of the corner of my eye. When I picked it up, it looked like a photograph of a man and me. It was noticeably aged, slightly tinted yellow, and frayed on the edges. It looked like it had been lying on the sidewalk for years. I turned it over and noticed something written on the back. "Start at the beginning." Ok, this is a logically sound sentiment, but a few details would be helpful. I prefer names and dates. I turned the corner to go into the coffee shop where I usually have breakfast. At the counter was the man in the picture I just found.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I walked up behind him and bumped him a bit so he'd notice me. He turned around quickly as if he was about to say something extreme to me. But when he saw me, his face turned as white as a ghost. He fumbled around in his shirt pocket for a moment and pulled out what looked to be an old photograph. I couldn't see what was on the front. But on the back of it, I could see the words clearly, "Start at the beginning," written in the same shaky handwriting that was on the one I had in my hand. He looked down at my hand and saw it.

He smiled at me and said, "You know I always pass by this place in the mornings. But, I never come in. This morning they finally started carrying the bagels I like. (He gestured to the sign in the window.) So I stopped in for a bite." He let me cut in line in front of him. The barista fixed me up with my favorite cup of sinfully sweet coffee and gestured to the sign in the window. "And guess what? We finally got that bagel your always asking about." Ok, this is just plain weird! I think I'll take my much-needed caffeine and bagel to the corner nook on the back patio. I'll hide and think about everything that's happened this morning. I need to clear my head.

After a few minutes of successfully hiding, he sanders out on the back patio and heads straight for me. Good grief, can't you see I'm an introvert! So he walks up to my hideaway table, and said" No way! I always sit with my back to the wall too! Ok, so besides me inserting myself into your morning today, is this a peaceful spot? I usually don't come up to people and start talking like this. I'm more of an introvert myself."

I've known him for about 10 minutes now, but I feel like I've known him my whole life. I'm starting to think we must've known each other or at least met before, besides how do you explain the photographs? And why does he like the same things I like? We spent a few hours at the coffee house, just trying to get to know each other until the staff ran us out of there. I think we hit every one of my hiding spots in town. We discovered that we both frequented the same places, but usually at different times of the day.

With the day almost gone, he said he had to go and sit with his Dad for a while because he was getting older and needed company when the nurses leave at night. I received a warm kiss on the cheek and an invitation to come along. How could I resist? I'm dying to find out who this guy is and how do I know him? I climbed into the cab with him.

His Dad greeted us at the door and welcomed me in with a hug. I was swimming in Deja-Vu juice from the time I met Henry, his Dad, and now his Dad's house too. I know I've been here before! I settled on the couch next to Henry and listed to his Dad relive a good portion of his life from his easy chair. Henry brought his Dad the mail. I watched him open up a Christmas envelope when two small cards fell out of the letter. Henry had walked away to get us some more coffee when I almost lost my breath. On the back of two blank photographs that fell out of the letter was scribbled, "Start at the beginning."

Before Henry got back from the kitchen, his Dad loaded the blank photograph paper into an antique camera. It took a lot of coaxing, but we both relented and let him take the pics. Without showing us his work, he sealed them up in another Christmas envelope. Henry criticized his Dad for never throwing anything away and advised me his Dad had those envelopes since he was a kid.

After dinner, his Dad got sleepy and headed off to bed. We lost track of time. I noticed he had the Christmas envelope in his hand when he left. Henry and I talked into the wee hours of the morning. I felt so comfortable around him that I fell asleep on the couch. I remember Henry covering me up. I had an old familiar dream that night. Now I know how I know Henry. He used to be my imaginary friend when I was a kid.

We never actually met in person. But in my mind, I would come over to this house, and then we would play together. I think I forgot about it because it hurt too much. I missed him and playing with him. I didn't want to, but at some point, I had to grow up.

I woke up apologizing to him about crashing out mid-sentence last night. He assured me he understood because it happens to him too when he's low on caffeine. Without thinking, I smiled and said, "Thanks Ry." (Which is what I used to call my imaginary friend.) Henry's face went pale again. He sat down hard. He said, "Welcome Rie," that was his nickname for me because my name is Marie. I think now we both understood our familiarity with each other.

I asked the question, "I wonder how all this 'weirdness' started?" Then he told me his Dad always told him to" start at the beginning." Henry told me when his imaginary friend stopped coming around: he wrote a letter to Santa Claus to get her back, included two blank photographs in the letter, and asked him to take a picture of her so he would recognize her. He said it was just sarcasm when he wrote: "Start at the Beginning" on the backs. I wonder where the beginning of a full circle is?

That morning, we held hands and walked into his Dad's room. Henry's Dad was missing as well as the photographs. We went back to the couch. Henry was telling me that his Dad believes in lucid dreaming and traveling in your sleep.

The next thing I know, his Dad walked into the living room and just apologized for being late. He laughed at Henry and said he addressed the envelope wrong. Henry wrote "#1 Old Man, North Pole." His Dad's address is "#1 N. Pole St." The photographs got lost in the mail for at least 20 years. I'm pretty sure his Dad isn't Santa. But, he is the " old man at #1 North Pole St." But, as far as magical creatures go, I do believe he is a kindly old elf with a lot of love in his heart. He shared it with his son and with me. I am so grateful that the world is weird.