My heart had even leapt a beat from the hallucination. It's a sunny, early afternoon. The quietness outside must have my mind wandering.
The figure moves back into view, and I can see it clearly now, -- it was no hallucination. This person is covered, literally head to toe, in black. The is nothing where the face should be but black cloth material, except for a tiny slit in the mask just big enough to expose the pupils. Even then, that opening is covered in the shadow of the large, fuzzy velvet-ish hat atop its head. There is a black bandana wrapped around the crown of it. A strange decoration.
The figure wears a full-length, formless, dress-like garment, under which there is not even a hint of skin uncovered. This person wears several long necklaces draped around its neck, most of which seem to garnish an array of spiritual symbolism.
A rosary, a couple of stones and crystals, and some strands of beads.
This person is quietly and curiously browsing the shop, as I am curiously and quietly studying this strange wardrobe. I'm fascinated. And my mind is churning away at a thousand miles a second, trying to piece together the different clues in order to figure out what extremist religion I assume this person must be a member of.
Upon entering the second room, where I am seated, a young couple freaks out at the sight of the all-black figure and leaves in a hurry. Behind it's back one of them silently mouths the words "OH MY GOD."
Leaving just the two of us.
The person bends down to examine an item in a basket on the ground, then un-gloves one hand to pick it up.
The exposed fingers are those of a lady. A lady maybe in her 40's or 50's. Her skin is an ambiguous shade of light brown. I'm wondering who she is. I'm dying to know.
A pleasant voice mentions to no one, "It's been a long time."
"Oh, wow." I respond, casually, "do you live here?"
"Yes, I do." She says. "I came back."
I'm acting like nothing is weird about her or the situation, almost to the point of feigning boredom. But then this makes me start to feel awkward, like maybe the more comforting thing to do is get it out in the open?
I can she that she trusts me a little bit, though.
She kneels down to peer into the glass case which holds all different kinds of little charms and antique jewelry. "May I see the Saint Elizabeth? That's me."
"Sure. Say your name is Elizabeth?" I open the case and pull out the tray containing all of the little saint charms. I pull out an Elizabeth and place it on the counter.
"Yes, that's me." She's looking closely at the illustration on the tiny pendant. "Is she lying down in this one?"
I examine the picture, "No, the one lying down is Jesus. She's holding him."
"Wow." She takes a few breaths of astonishment, "Here she is holding Jesus, wow."
As she feels out the situation, she starts to open up to me. She begins telling me about a few of the saints, then a little about trying to find a symbol or charm to protect her, and help her in battle.
The conversation grows. She tells me about being compassionate for animals. About having studied to work with them within the zoos, and having been ostracized for being "too empathetic." What a laugh, she said.
She tells me all about the ways that animals' brains deteriorate from lack of stimulation, and how this is apparent through certain behaviors. She tells me stories about sneaking fresh vegetables and fruits to some of the animals whose diets have been reduced to pellets.
I see her warming up to me as we talk, and becoming more comfortable.
She tells me every day has been a struggle since she's gotten this disease. She is allergic to the sun.
She speaks of feeling like she's losing touch with what used to make her feel connected with this city. She says, "I'm turning white."
Wow, I thinking. I was so shallow to have made so many assumptions about her.
Just then my boss comes up and interrupts our conversation, telling me that 'I've got work to be doing', aka 'stop entertaining the crazies, again, simi'.
Damnit.
I flash an apologetic look with my eyes to Elizabeth. I tell her it was really good talking with her. She thanked me and went on her way.
After she left I was steaming angry at my coworker for being so awful all the time, and for ending this interaction that I found to be amazingly enriching and valuable. And my heart reached out to this woman, Elizabeth. Such a beautiful human being, dealing with so much pain.
I realized, she never ended up buying that saint charm she had asked for. So then I bought it. And I went and placed it on the altar there, in hopes that the spirit of Marie Laveau would bless Elizabeth with some peace and happiness.
As a thank you, for having taught me a little something about what beauty is.
