Destined (34 page)

“Yes, “ he said excitedly, “I went
into my mind to picture what we discussed, the sunny day, all that, and there
you were, standing right next to me!”

“Which side?” I asked, remembering
what I had envisioned.

“You were on my right,” he replied
firmly. “I saw you looking out at the intersection. You were smiling.”

There had been that bright glow to my
left, it had blinded me a little when I looked past it toward the intersection.
I thought it was sunlight, but I guess it was actually Tony. I told him what I
had experienced.

“Maybe if we practice, I’ll be able to
see you too,” I said, very intrigued.

“Do you want to?” he asked, kissing my
hand with a smile.

“Yes, of course.”

“Then I’m sure you will.”

On the Friday that the Sidewalk Sales
were scheduled to begin, the day dawned clear and hazy. Tree and I had stayed
at Tony’s house and the night before we had meditated on the weather again, as
we had done several times during the week. The forecast for the weekend hadn’t
changed much, predicting clear skies for Friday and Saturday, with a
possibility of showers for late Saturday night and Sunday. Most of the
important musical events were happening on Saturday, when the largest crowds of
shoppers traditionally appear to scour the streets for bargains. Our headliner
performers were going on stage Saturday night, when we had all agreed to stay
open until nine.

We had been getting great advance
publicity all week, thanks to a lack of terrorist activity and natural
disasters. Slow news is good news, when you’re hoping for free advertising.
Sarah Bennet reported to me that the phone at her office was ringing off the
hook, with people calling from around the region for more information.

At this point the ads were placed, the
die was cast, and the merchants were concentrating on their individual
presentations. We wanted to impress people who were new to our area, and
develop relationships with new long-term customers. It was a good chance to
clear out any old merchandise that was hanging around, for sure, but nobody
really expected to make a killing financially. We all thought of this as a
sales promotion event, with bargains as the bait to draw people into town, so
that we could charm them into returning over and over again.

The girls came over for our early
morning Pilates class as usual and after we finished, they helped carry the
heavy folding banquet tables I had borrowed from Laurie out to the sidewalk in
front of the building. Yesterday we had gone over the shop with a fine-tooth
comb, dusting and polishing, tweaking the displays. It was an “all hands on
deck” situation, since we needed to station salespeople both outside and inside
to keep an eye on things. Bella and Siri were both working full-time for the
weekend, plus Henry and me of course, and Amy, too.

She had been earning a nice, steady
little paycheck every week, to her great excitement and pride. When she’d
completed the hiring papers with her social security number and personal
information I was hoping for new clues as to the whereabouts of her mother, but
Amy entered a post office box instead of a street address. Her last name turned
out to be Horowitz. I looked in the telephone book, but nobody was listed under
this name in our neighborhood. It seemed to confirm the possibility that they
might currently be staying in the church basement.

Siri and I had been piling merchandise
in Henry’s sitting room all week in preparation for today, and now we lugged
the boxes outside to set up. Bella ran home for a few minutes to shower and
change, then she came back to take over while we did the same.

Henry came downstairs dressed in khaki
shorts, Birkenstock sandals and a purple tie-died Jimi Hendricks T-shirt with
his straw hat and sunglasses. He set up a large red and white striped beach
umbrella outside to provide us with some shade, lashing it to the railing at
the bottom of the stairs with a bungee cord. Opening a comfortable folding lawn
chair, he settled down next to a cooler of bottled water to oversee the cash
box.

We had covered the two tables with
brightly colored tablecloths and organized the items simply into four price
groups, labeled with little signs I had inscribed with Henry’s calligraphy
pens. By noon we were ready to go, and I left Henry in charge while I went over
to see what was going on under the big white tent that had been erected in the
intersection.

They had been working on it since
before I arrived that morning. It looked marvelous, like a fairytale tent with
pointed peaks that were flying triangular colored flags. The police had already
closed the intersection to driving traffic, letting an occasional vehicle go
through to deliver essential items to the crew of workers who were hooking up
the electricity and the sound system. A seating area that would accommodate
about a hundred people had been planned, and when I ducked under the awning and
went inside I saw Rocco Sorrentino and John Laroche setting up the chairs, with
a couple of strong young men wearing Green Thumb T-shirts unloading the
delivery truck.

“How’s it going?” Rocco called when he
saw me. He was sweating profusely, which was not surprising. The day was
already cranking up to be very hot.

“Good!” I answered, offering him and
John a cold bottle of water from the six-pack I had brought with me. “We’re all
set. How about you? Do your parents need any help?”

“I think Pop has it all together, but
thanks for offering,” Rocco replied, chugging down a whole bottle of water in a
couple of seconds. John followed suit more slowly.

I peered under the side of the tent
and saw Laurie setting up a sign on the patio in front of the restaurant. They
had decided to open early today and serve lunch, expecting enough hungry
passers-by to make it worth staffing the dining room. The Potting Shed doors
were standing open, and an old wagon loaded with flowering plants and shrubs
had been rolled up in front. A smaller cart with a lime green umbrella shading
it displayed pretty bouquets standing in big buckets of water. It looked like
Laurie was ready for action, too. It was exciting! All up and down the street,
people were bustling about cheerfully, calling out to one another in various
languages and setting up tables and chairs on the sidewalk, dragging boxes out
of their shops, hanging up banners and signs.

Sarah Bennet appeared, walking across
the stage with a clipboard under her arm, conferring with the young man who was
testing the sound system. I waved, and she smiled broadly, waving back.

“Testing, testing, one two three,” the
young man said into a microphone, signaling to his co-worker, who was sitting
in front of a big control panel at the back of the tent.

Sarah leaned over and spoke into the
microphone.

“Is everybody ready?” she asked,
looking at the three of us.

Rocco gave her the thumbs up sign.

“The parking garage is packed!” she
said happily. “And they’re heading this way!”

I looked down the street and saw that
she was right, as a parade of people pushing baby carriages, teens on bikes and
skateboards, men and women, and senior citizens carrying shopping bags slowly
approached. A juggler on stilts was leading the way. A television news crew
pulled up in their live broadcasting van and the police let them in past the
stanchions, parking them next to the tent.

“Yikes!” I said, pointing the crowd
out to Rocco and John.

“Holy cow,” Rocco said, “I better go
slice up some pizzas!”

“See you later!” said John, slipping
away with a wave.

I went back over to where Siri and
Henry were waiting, comfortably settled at our encampment. She had covered
Henry’s big umbrella with a colorful Indian print bedspread, and more bright
textiles were displayed on a quilt rack that propped the shop door open. It
looked like something out of the Arabian Nights, and Siri looked like the
storyteller with a hundred and one tales, dressed in a cool aqua sari that
fluttered around her bare brown legs when she moved.

Amy and Bella were sitting on the
front steps, so I went over to join them. I looked at my watch. It was twelve
fifteen. The first little trickle of shoppers came around the corner onto
Market Street, beginning to spread out down the sidewalk in front of
Sorrentino’s. I saw Josie standing out front, immediately engaged in
conversation with a young woman who was carrying a baby in a hot-pink backpack.
Josie reached up and tickled the baby under the chin. I saw the baby smile and
crow, pushing up on her feet and waving her arms around excitedly. Then the
first wave of shoppers hit our side of the street, and we all stood up to get
to work.

Most of the day sped by in a blur of
conversation and activity. The next time I looked at my watch it was after six.
We had been very busy, inside and outside. There had even been two new rare
book collectors up in the library with Henry, a fact that totally thrilled him.
I sent Amy down to the basement repeatedly for more crystal vases and wine
goblets, and we sold all of the African animals. I brought out a dozen sets of
carved wooden salad tongs, and only one pair was left. Salt and pepper shakers
and candlesticks had been snapped up like popcorn. Business inside the store
had been brisk as well, and we’d given out a lot of brochures and business
cards.

The mood of the crowd was upbeat and
friendly. I enjoyed talking to the new customers who were curious about the
shop and its eclectic mix of merchandise. A lot of people had come from out of
town. Many had never been on Market Street before. Every time someone told me
that, I gave myself a little pat on the back, mentally. It was great to know
that my plan was working!

Two folk-singing sisters were
performing under the tent when I checked the time and stopped for a breather.
Traffic on the sidewalk had slowed down quite a bit as soon as the music
started, and everyone was gathered around the stage to watch. Tony had showed
up a little while ago with pizza for all of us, from Rocco’s brick oven. He was
sitting next to Henry under the umbrella, hearing all about the new collectors
who had appeared earlier. He looked over at me and smiled, then turned back to
his friend.

“That was nice of him, getting the
pizza,” said Amy, trying to catch a long strand of mozzarella that was dangling
from her slice. She said it wonderingly, like she was puzzled. She looked out
at me from under her brows, with a little frown. “I guess he didn’t have to,
right?”

“Right,” I said. “I think he wanted to
be nice, that was the point.”

“Yeah. Well, I guess he’s OK then. You
know. If he has to be around here all the time,” she said dismissively. She
finished eating the pizza and stood up. “OK, man, I gotta go. See you guys
tomorrow,” she waved at Henry and Tony, and sped off down the sidewalk.

We went home to Tony’s house that
night and I slept like the dead, then I got up early Saturday morning and went
back to the store to do it all again. We had carried everything inside before
locking up, but it was sitting right inside the doorway ready to go back
outside. The good weather continued to hold, and by ten o’clock the sidewalks
were filled with shoppers, clowns and minstrels.

Siri’s family came by to say hello.
Tom was pushing their daughter in the stroller, while their son ran alongside
and her father brought up the rear, carrying a string bag containing several
packages. Siri brought Tom and the kids inside to use the bathroom, while Gupta
took a seat next to me under the umbrella. Amy came outside carrying two
teapots, which she had just washed. She put them on the sale table, and I
introduced her to the elderly Indian gentleman.

They shook hands solemnly, his eyes
twinkling and hers curious.

“Very nice to meet you, Miss Amy,”
Gupta said earnestly.

“Yeah,” she said, “Same here. So.
You’re Siri’s dad, right?”

“Correct,” Gupta replied, looking her
over carefully. I wondered what he thought of her pierced eyebrow and the green
stripes in her hair.

Amy smiled at him and folded her arms,
hanging around like she had something to say. “Um,” she said, “So. Siri tells
me you’re a teacher, right?”

Gupta nodded. “Yes, I worked twenty
years as a tutor.”

“I was thinking about, um, trying to
pass the GED exam,” Amy said. “You know anything about that?”