"Well, if you’re gone when I get back, it has been a
pleasure listening," I said. "You really have given me
some food for thought."
Even though I knew that he would be gone when
I returned, I felt perfectly satisfied with our conversation. I
turned back around to see if I could glimpse him walking out the
door, but he was gone in an instant without any sign. He was
teaching me something at last. As I picked up the pizza I
realized what his lesson was. I stopped and smelled the aroma:
pepperoni, the spices, and tomatoes. It was great. I recalled
what it smelled like the first time, when I was a young boy and
my mother made a Chef-Boyardee Pizza for us kids. I could feel
the heat radiating off the ovens, and I sensed the ambition of
the fellow behind the counter. He was really hustling and
overtly friendly, no doubt because he aspired to be more than a
pizza pusher for the rest of his life. Almost as if I could read
his mind, I sensed that he wanted to be the manager. I saw a
girl, not happy with her job, taking an order next to him.
Obviously, she wanted to be somewhere else doing something else.
Then my awareness of the sounds, smells, and subtle sights all
intensified, and I smiled because I really could feel them.
Max had reached me. A chill tingled up my spine.
One more bizarre thing – I was given only my pizza. The
pizza guy never even called Max’s order ready.
