Phase II

“What’s in the refrigerator?” I asked. I opened the door to find a half a bottle of fruit punch Powerade. In the nearly empty refrigerator the red drink appeared as bright as a South Boston tavern’s neon light advertising Budweiser. In a thin jar five Calamata olives gently floated in the dark brown liquid as I inspected the contents. I wondered if they were still good. What had I used them in? And remembered a lime chicken dish I prepare for an Italian themed neighborhood picnic. How many ago months was that? I wrinkled up my nose and tighten the lid as a precaution. Mental note:toss them out. But for now I returned the jar to the shelf.

Next to the olives was a container of raw hemp protein, a left over from one of my recent health kick projects. I’ll experiment with just about anything to remedy hot flashes. The powdery substance tasted nutty, but the green color had been hardly visually appealing when mixed with yogurt or sprinkled on cantaloupe. Beyond the usual staples of mustard, mayo, a tub of butter and a couple packets of ketchup there wasn’t much else.

The items reminded me of a life I had six weeks ago, but it seemed a lot longer than that. Time and distance seemed a little warped after my three day drive south from New York.

I was reentering my Florida life. The next six months. Looking around the condo, nothing had changed. Nothing seemed different in the neighborhood either, but I had not given it a close inspection. I had been focused on driving as safely as I could with two cats sensing something was up. After 1500 miles and three days in the car, they were smart enough to know that the last fifteen minutes of driving was more herky-jerky, and slower as I thread the Jeep through traffic lights, right and left turns and over speed bumps. Both were alert and on the prowl. By the time I pulled in front of the condo, Diablo was on my lap head down into the doorwell trying to push the door open with her head and ready to leap out.

I carried her to the condo door, and tossed her into the hall way asking, “Look familiar?” She jumped when she saw her reflection in the hallway mirror and I remembered her first experience in the condo six months ago. I had carried her into the bedroom and put her on the bed. When I returned with Phoenix she was frozen, staring at the intimidating tabby cat she saw in the full length mirror on the closet door. “Diablo it is you,” I explained stepping between her and her image to make the other cat disappear.

The place smelled like new carpet, just as it had back in February, a smell that became so familiar I couldn't detect it any longer. Now it was fresh again, but filled with memories of a simple life I left...writing, kaykaing, running and swimming. It comforted me and the cats. I settled them in with their litter box, food bowls and water dish. I’m back to what I left behind six weeks ago. I pulled out my computer and began to write.

Phase two begins.