B E B E R E

A Couple of Fantastic Journeys

Last night, I found myself in my grandma's old house back in Buffalo. We were there ostensibly to get her moved into a care facility as she was suffering from dementia and could not live alone (In reality, she had Parkinson's. I've no doubt that this broad oak tree of a woman went absolutely barmy when she became trapped in her no longer functioning body, but it was the Parkinson's that got her locked up.) anymore. I remember going through the house, tidy and gleaming as though Minnie had just been by. No Grandma anywhere, though. Nobody but me and the voices of my aunt and my dad. Though the house looked beautiful and the sun was shining in through the picture window, I was sad because I couldn't find Grandma. Where was she?

***

I'm not certain how the transition took place, but I found myself in what I will call Old Jerusalem. It was sunny like Buffalo, set up kind of like how I remember un quartier arabe to be, only cleaner. What struck me was how peaceful and quiet it was. Why? No idea. Walking down one of the streets, I got a taste for ice cream, so found a little counter that sold frozen treats. Since all I had $20 in my wallet from Buffalo, I asked the woman at the counter if I should go get shekels. She told me not to worry and asked me what I wanted. Figuring I'd get the expert opinion, I asked her what she liked. Moving over to the cooler section, she pointed to a large trifle-looking confection that looked like blueberries sandwiched between two layers of either lime sherbet or pistachio ice cream. The phone rang, so she went to pick it up. As I stood there waiting for her to finish her call, it occurred to me that my alarm clock was ringing and that I'd better wake up.