ADVICE

Unexpectantly I met two lovely ladies last night. Peggy and Angie came from nowhere. They were walking down the street in front of me, arm in arm. As I was about to go around them, like two automatons, they turned towards me, unlocked their arms, smiled and motioned for me to walk between them. There was a calmness, almost an aura, around them that encouraged me to be trustworthy. I blew caution to the air and we became a threesome.

Peggy reminded me of Carol Burnett. Her short, dark hair, heavy lips , a mouthful of pearly white teeth and a twinkle in her eye, put me at ease. No mugger, no killer she. Angie was not as effervescent as Peggy but her warmth toasted me, let melted butter roll down my spine. We had no leader, no particular aim and walked straight ahead, keeping almost a cadence.

This was perfect as it was where I was headed anyhow, home. 7267 Pine Lake Dr. It didn’t look like my house except for the blue house numbers on the white tile on the stucco wall next to the oak door. With a friendly, ‘So long.’ I waved goodbye to Angie and Peggy. They joined arms again, stayed where they were. My front door didn’t creak for once. I looked again for the ladies and they had disappeared, maybe blown away by the slight wind.

Mail was on the foyer table, mail I had never seen. A yellow envelope with no return address looked like an invitation. It was the first, and last, one I opened. All it said in fancy, curlicue green was, ‘Come join us in the dining room. Peggy and Angie.’ Was I drunk, demented? Did someone slip a Mickey into my latte? I felt dizzy, disoriented yet followed instructions.

And there they were, Angie and Peggy were sitting at my Stickley cherry table. ‘How did you get in? Who are you?’ My mouth moved but I didn’t hear the words come out. Angie stood and lovingly ran her hands over the table top. She caressed it as if it were her child, said ‘DON’T’ and sat down again. Peggy went over to the hutch, took off an old and cracked turkey platter that my mother used once a year. I never liked it but held on to it as a memory. ‘DON’T’ she said.

‘Ladies, all this old stuff of Stickley’s, the banquet table, eight chairs, hutch, cabinet are for sale. I’ve had enough of this old junk and now have an order in for a contemporary dining room, living room. Everything is going,’ I told these strangers and went on. ‘One neighbor has already offered me $1000 for just the table.’ Angie and Peggy cringed. ‘DON’T’ give away this treasure. You can get ½ million dollars for it. Don’t take it! Keep it for your grandchildren. By then it will be worth a million.’ And they were gone.

I woke from my dream, smarter than when I fell asleep. On the sidewalk, arm in arm, were Angie and Peggy. Peggy was smiling broadly, her white teeth bright. She pulled her ear and was gone.

My Stickley and the turkey platter will stick with me a long time.