In the Path of Totality

Our tiny mountain town became a city, at least for the day. Even I had a sign on the front door: “Don’t be a Daredevil! Protect your sight with eclipse glasses!” and a pile of them on the display case with all the best Magic The Gathering cards fanned out underneath.

I recognized her the second the bell on the door chimed. She looked so much the same but better. An adult now. Mature. Surrounded, as she always had been, by adolescent males. Those three could have been her kids.

“I’m so glad you have these,” she said and picked up five of the glasses before looking around.

“Mom,” one of the boys said, “Mom.” He already held a Dungeons & Dragons Icons of the Realms Zuggtmoy, Demon Queen of Fungi pre-painted figure. In the box of course. I smiled. She walked closer to pay for the glasses; he was on an intercept course. Both moved toward the register.

I haven’t changed much, I don’t think anyway. And we looked at each other. I thought her eyes were browner. Was there a moment of recognition? A so-slight smile?

Probably not.

Her boy put the box up on the counter and I expected the same drama I had seen many times before, but she just bought the glasses and Zuggtmoy. A heavy, black metal American Express card.

“Wait a minute,” one of the other kids said. “Wait just a minute,” he said, looking at all the anime on its shelves, but then they were gone.

If she recognized me, she wouldn’t admit it. She’d taught me a lot. More about people, physics, and math than I’ll ever need. And I thought about following her out onto the street, where the moon would soon protect us from the sun, but I knew I couldn’t fight our history.

Instead, I spent the day making myself content with it.