The club

The nights are quite chilly this time of the year. It signals the start of another long Winter. Soft misty drops soak into the visitors’ coats, as they ascend the stairs. The house, indeed to be admired even in this weather, looks majestic. More and more people arrive, each one equally surprised by the intensity of the chill.

I have arrived with John. We have been dating for eight months, and I decided to share this moment with him. This moment which comes at an appointed time every year, and shared by a special group of people. We all understand that if you are not ready, you will miss this moment. I secretly hope that he will adore this moment the same way I have done, for so many years.

I met him during the last week of Summer, when everything was very much alive and joyous and warm. The meeting was a rather peculiar one. We were both in a long line waiting for our respective coffee orders. He and a friend, two people ahead of me. He turned around, and I thought he was staring at me.  There was no expression on his face. Just a blank stare. I started to approach him to voice my indignation. It was then that he lifted his arm to wave. He eventually caught his friend’s attention behind me, and was making a gesture which indicated to the recipient to wait.

That same evening, I saw him at the dance festival, and decided to take fate into my own hands. I went to him where he sat, massaging a beer, and started with, “I will not ask to sit, because it’s a free party…but I will ask your name.” He responded with an infectious laugh. He tapped his beer against my glass, and said, “John”.

We talked throughout the night. We talked about beaches, and mountains and lakes. We talked about beers, wines and spirits. We talked about people. Men. Women. Children.

Then we danced. We danced to the tunes of Luis Fonsi, shaking every body part which can be shaken. Then on to Cardi B, where our respective cultures found it hilariously difficult to just allow the energy of the beat to envelop us. And off course we went “Higher than a Kite” with Lil Wayne and Nicki Minaj! Meghan Trainor’s “All about that base” made us burst into paralyzing laughter. Finally, we were brought to calmness by the rhythmic and soothing sounds of Michael Buble’s “Everything”. And at the end of Beyonce’s, 1+1, we were running through the clouds.

For months, nothing between us changed, except for the seasons. When my group started to plan this trip, I invited him. He agreed. And here we are.

The weather service warned of an incoming cold front. They described it as…. only the cheerleader of a much more brutal force to come! The storms in Autumn are not unusual. However, whether through age or climate change, the storms do appear fiercer and more violent each year.

This occasion marks the hundredth anniversary of this specific trip. As different generations are gathered here tonight, it holds a special meaning for every one present.

Miss Baker takes the podium. The lanky figure reminds us of the reality of a life lived well. It leaves us with many beautiful memories, but the physical marks tell tales of hard-fought battles to remain standing. The last few members rush in. They bring with them the crispness of the compact air outside. They silently take the last available seats, pretending to be nonchalant about their entries.

Miss Baker starts to reminisce, as usual, about the origins of this event. I always felt that she wanted to ensure that this tale is engraved in our subconscious minds, never to be forgotten. She congratulates the collective’s accomplishments. Through our diversity, we continue to create memories for our children and their children; and we continue to strongly advance this legacy. The times that we do spend together, takes on a new refreshed meaning every year.

During the year we are only fuzzy images on a computer screen. Yet, this air, this mountain, this gathering, erase those twelve months in the blink of an eye.

Miss Baker is paying tribute to those members we have lost in the past year. Then she turns her attention to the youth. She pleads with them to continue this journey she refers to as a pilgrimage. She ends the plea with a heartfelt gratitude for everyone’s presence here tonight. Halting all life’s activities to participate in an event -  which was discovered by chance - is the mark of a true and loyal member.

In 1920 her grandmother, Gertrude Baker, was visiting this very place. She came upon this spot by chance. She, and her then boyfriend, was looking for a quiet place, away from the rowdy camping crowd. It was already late, and they started to walk back towards the camp, when Gertrude witnessed a truly amazing event. She motioned to him to be quiet and together they moved closer.

They were both so mesmerized by what they witnessed, that they vowed to make it an annual event, and to ensure that it is shared by many generations to come. Her eldest daughter continued the tradition. One by one the younger sisters, then the daughters, from the eldest to the youngest, honored this event. From the plains of the Great Karoo in Africa, to the wide beaches of Miami, we have each in our unique way, discovered this event  We  hold it sacred, and believe our future generations can, even just for one event, one moment, become a Gertrude Baker - the woman who has led the way in helping mankind understand the connection we all hold.

At the precise moment, Miss Baker moved away from the center of the stage. We all stare. Five seconds passed…. then ten….and then it happened.

I become aware of John’s tightening grip on my hand. His eyes are glued to the stage, and I wonder if he forgot to breathe.

The Night-Blooming Cereus Club has gained another lifelong member.