Post It

  I took a picture. It read “hold”. It was a post on a communication board in the coffee shop. The batista named Sallee came to serve customers their coffee. “ What does this post mean?”,  I asked. 

“OH! I can't say, but stay til 7pm for the open mic you will see.”

What is this? I walked around the corner of the post office.  I look at the boards where business owners put their business cards or flyers. I saw a post It. It read” blown”. This had a number three at the bottom.  This is just bonkers. Who is this person? Who would do this? I go to the grocery store. I see on the back of the cashier register at Post It. It read “ money blue”. I looked at the bottom of the post it, I saw the number seven. I asked,” the cashier, what does this mean? I have seen another post at the coffee shop and post office. “

She replies, “ you should have stayed at the coffee shop. It will give you your answer.” 

I'm going home to put my groceries in the house. While I am at the traffic light I see a post stapled to a post. “it read"hard ". 

By now I am trying to figure out what this is saying. I review in my mind.

“Hold, blown, money blue ,and hard”

Is this person saying “don't blow your money because it's hard to come by?” 

I didn't see any numbers on that post. I put my groceries in the house , rushed back to my car to get to the coffee shop. At 6:15pm, I am at the stop sign, watching traffic. I see another post on the stop sign. It had a number ten on the bottom.  It read “ fulfill”. 

“Hold, blown, money blue, hard, fulfill”

The numbers are “3, 7, and 10”, 3 stands for trinity, which is the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Seven is God's perfect number.  Then, I am lost. I have to google it. I looked it up. Ten means completeness, divine order and perfection of God's will. 

Continually puzzled on what the numbers and words are saying,  I almost hit a car. I parked the car. I took a deep breath. It is 6:45 p.m. The excitement hits. A rush that comes from nowhere. I take another deep breath before getting out of the car. I grab a little cash and my debit card from my purse. I put both in my bra. The coffee shop is so packed with people I almost couldn’t get through the door. I hear a squeak in the mic. It is Salle. She is welcoming and thanking everyone for coming tonight. “This is our biggest audience ever!”, she yells.

The audience all claps and cheers. Some raise their iced coffees in the air as a cheer. 

“What word stuck out to you this week?”, she asked. 

One woman yells out “money blue”. A guy yells “ the number seven”, and someone else says “hold”. 

Sallee just smiled. She says “are you ready?”, she asks. 

A man with a mask walks on stage. He sits down on the stool. He takes the mic into his hand. He says “ I hold seven dollars in my hand

Looking at the blue sky

Money can’t buy this beauty

I can give you seven things to be grateful for on this land.”

The audience applauds. He continued on through the night. He came to get him a coffee. I introduced myself to him. He says, “Constantly want to know the unknown

Open to new things

Never stop thinking

Naive to what is in front of her

Insightful on knowledge

Eternally hunger for love”

He held my hand, kissed it and walked away. I was in love and intrigued with him. It got so hot in the coffee shop. I didn’t want to leave. I sat in my car listening to the poems all evening. When I saw some of the people leaving for the night. I got a parking spot that I could hide. I want to see who this mystery man is. It was after eleven o’clock. He walks out the door. He gets in his car. He goes to a bar. I wouldn’t go to this place. I went in. He still has this mask on. I sit beside him at the bar. He takes a sip of the Long Island Iced Tea, grabs my hand and just holds it. Half way done with his drink, he pulls me to the dance floor. He dances slowly with me. It was so intimate. That night was memorable. We went our separate ways. I go to my car to go to work. The post it read “ The light from the moonlight

It gave your skin a glow

Silence of the night

Applaud your beauty

I want to add to you

Not take away

Will you allow me

Hold your hand

Forever

Connie, meet me at the park, sit on the bench near the pond at six o’clock.”

I follow the instructions. I went to the park and sat on the bench. I look up. The 6 '3 man could be Black, Hispanic or Native American. He grabs my hands. I said, “yes”. He wasn’t a man of many words. He held my hand. I didn’t hear any words. We walked in the park. I read each post on the trees. He would smile and dance with me. That night was a memorable moment.

She writes:” I will tell our grandchildren about that night

      Having the love that gave my world light

      Can’t believe he is out of sight

      This memory makes me hype”

You left the words for a lifetime. Yet, my time with you didn’t last for a lifetime. It was for that moment. Cancer was your secret. 

 “Pause, camera, action!” , read the post on the communication board at the coffee shop. This time no mask. I wanted it to be revealed. I walked on stage. It wasn’t your natural hand. It was your words. The people applaud and cheer. Then, we all hold hands in silence. The tears of memories, joy, dancing, and your words. It vaporized too soon.