NO CROCODILES HERE

It was the first time I did it and am neither embarrassed nor ashamed to admit it...but I am already 39 and starting late.

A quite presentable gentleman, his short, graying, neatly trimmed goatee caught my attention. It was something about the way he was so totally absorbed reading ‘Egypt Found’. The title was in large, heavy red letters, easily seen without my bifocals. I had to squint to make out the author ‘Adim Bahali.’

Egyptology had fascinated me since I was 12 and visited Albany’s Institute of History and Art with my classmates. We were taken down several flights of concrete steps, into a room that had only stone walls, low level lights and two sarcophigus. A docent I could barely hear or see did her best to explain how mummies were prepared for their trip to eternity. That gave me the shivers. She told us some history of Egypt, about how beautiful Cleopatra was and I was hooked.

Here was a chance to delve deeper into the past, deeper than I had ever gone on my own. ‘Take it, Woman. He won’t bite.’ ‘Excuse me,’ I said to him. ‘You seem so absorbed in your book about Egypt, I wonder if you have ever been in any of the tombs, maybe been so lucky as to find one yourself. Have you?’

He looked up, gently closed his book. His soft gray eyes were like pearls just plucked from their mother’s shells. ‘Yes, young lady, I have been in many tombs. In case you hadn’t noticed the author’s name on my book, let me introduce myself. I am Adim Bahali. Would you care to join me for lunch? I haven’t ordered yet.’

Surprising myself and possibly Bahali, I sat down. My waiter appeared at my table, looked around to find me. I called him over to put my order on my new table and to give me my check. Mr. Bahali’s hand appeared faster than a cobra ready to strike an intruder. The check disappeared under his coffee cup.

The waiter was definitely amused and asked what the gentleman would like.’ Those pearl gray eyes twinkled as his smiled and exciting words startled me. ‘ Waiter, I don’t think you can give me what I would like to have. I’ll have to get that myself, but in the meantime, please bring me a large Caesar salad with extra anchovies and a bowl of Nile Split Pea soup.’ ‘That’s the main thing I came for, until now,’ he said to me and winked his right eye. ‘Have you ever tried the soup, Miss ?’ ‘I’m sorry, my name is Cleo Byers. No, I’ve never heard of Nile soup.’ ‘Well, Cleo, it is exotic, lots of cumin, ginger, cloves, sugar. Name it and it’s in there. Waiter, bring Miss Byers a cup to try.’ It came chilled but smoke came out of my ears. It was pungent, deliciously spiced.

A bit forward, I asked if I could call my new tutor, my friend by his first name, Adim. He took my hand, ‘Yes, you may call me Adim, and I am asking you if I can call you tomorrow.’ I handed him my card and he handed me his book. ‘Read a few chapters until we meet again, Thursday perhaps?’

I read all day Wednesday absorbing a lot and I was ready for Thursday. Thursday we didn’t have time to talk about Egypt or Nile Soup. Coincidence that it was, Aida was being performed at our Town Center Music Hall. Adim had two tickets in the center of the theater. The performance was glorious.

The night that followed was more so.