On the Wednesday before the call from Norway telling of Mom's fall, I received a call at ten o'clock at night, my mind mid-drift being jogged out enough to answer the phone. It was Paul, the one and only, calling from St. Louis. I thought he called to talk, a nightcap of intellectual exchange, but the greeting quickly turned to matters of business. "I was thinking of coming up." My mind raced, mentally pinching myself to make sure I wasn't still dreaming. "Come up, come up," in all was what I said over again and again, amidst my laughing at him suddenly joining my seemingly drama-filled life. (People from my past having suddenly and momentarily thrown me for a few loops.) How could I turn down his offer? Before long the phone call was over and I laid back in bed and mused at the thought of seeing a friend that was part of my life in China here in my hometown, two worlds colliding.
Friday after my afternoon run, I showered and got ready, nervous excitement coursing my bloodstream in anticipation of seeing my friend. Before long he was ringing the doorbell to my parents abode and I was outside grinning at the sight of him. With a hug and a welcome, I showed him inside and introduced him to Gran.
On the way back to my place, my cell and the already foretold call from Per came, making the weekend with Paul busier than I or he had anticipated.
Back in Chengdu (Sichuan, China), it was all about good food and drink over amazing conversation when Paul and I met up, so we decided our standards had to be continued. Gourmet pizza, lasagna, and red wine fit to a T. We reminisced about our life in the East, two sets of memories setting us off in story sharing. At one point I even marveled while being overwhelmed at the conversations happening around us, voices that for the past two years were always blocked out, but now were understood and so were pulling me into eavesdropping mode when I least expected it. Towards the end of the meal, our waitress asked if we needed anything, then said she would just leave us alone as it looked like we were having a wonderful time.
The next day it was pancakes for everyone. After more phone calls to Dad in Norway, Paul and I climbed into my car and drove to Chicago. I had been to the city to see Lyd, but hadn't really spent much time downtown since being back. I looked at the city with a new eye, a few things new since I'd last seen it, like the face fountains that people sloshed and splashed in underneath the ever changing faces.
We meet up with a friend of Paul's for lunch. The friend had been living in Japan with his girlfriend, so meeting up with them in Chicago was the main purpose of heading in. While Paul and his friend talked, the friend would look over at the girlfriend and they'd start speaking in Japanese, leaving me in awe at having such a connection and speaking secretly in front of anyone. Hugs went around at the end of the meeting, so Paul and I got one in.
After waving goodbye and parting, Paul and I decided to walk around. I took him into the Chicago Library, a place I had been to in high school on a field trip and not since. It was as mystical as I had remembered, the onion dome at the top wanting to prompt me underneath, lay down beneath it's glow and get lost in it. Sadly, there were too many people around. I inspected all of the mosaics, magical pieces throwing light, sending twinkles through the air. The Building of Old School Enchantment ended with a spotting of a dog in shades. Enchanted indeed.
We walked, stopped in at Fannie May's, and meet up with Lyd for a quick coffee during her break. It was oddly wonderful for my two friends to meet, both of them knowing each other through me yet strangers, my worlds colliding even more.
My favorite part, besides the meeting of friends, was the Bean. It's mirrored shell reflected and distorted, turning it into a picture taking wonderland. I remembered how my parents took Chen Lan (my friend from China) there and mused how I was then there with Paul. The reflection I saw just seemed to say it all.
