[Printing Shop Proportions]
First stop on Noah and the Prince of Pups list of places to be that day was the local printers.
Happy resolve oozed from every pore. The door chimed for the store’s first visitors of the day.
“Hello Yang. I need a few copies of something.”
The town’s Master printer accepted the book from Noah’s hands, glancing nonchalantly at the pages marked. Still silent. Noah spoke again,
“I can only afford three dollars’ worth.”
“Noah. Why I not put on church account?” Noah fell quiet. Yang pushed further, “I just put on that for you.”
Happy resolve soon turned into an uncomfortable nervousness.
“Actually, this is a personal project Yang. I have to pay cash. I just CAN NOT afford more than three-bucks on this. I need the rest to buy some chairs.”
Squinting his eye in professed disbelief Yang was not convinced.
“Still. Sound like church project. Church account okay.”
Yang was insisting at this point and Noah could see confusion in his deep dark enlivened eyes. Noah could not and would not justify using the church account, so he put the three-dollars in cash on the counter in front of Yang, looking him dead straight in the eyes for the first time in 24 years.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so. See how many you can make for me and DON’T USE THE CHURCH’S ACCOUNT! PLEASE! God Bless Yang. Thank you.”
An hour came and went like nothing. Garage Sale after Yard Sale, Noah managed to find what he was after: Thirteen random beach chairs. His ten dollars; gone. Barely able to fit in the Christ-mobile, Noah and the hound headed back to Yang’s. It was 10 o’clock and his day felt half gone … time was flying by and his first Forgiveness Meeting had not even started yet.
Yang was outside having a cigarette with his Smittie’s doughnut holes and black coffee; one brown sugar cube
It seemed like everyone had a ritual just to breathe easier these days.
Without a word, Yang handed Noah the bag—two dozen holes and one strawberry sprinkle doughnut were left untouched. Noah knew which one was for him. Yang knew Noah, perhaps even better than Noah knew himself: Strawberry with sprinkles had been his favorite since he was a small boy. And Smittie’s made the best hands down—Crispy on the
outside with a soft warm center. Still silent, Yang handed Noah a fresh coffee. Knowing it took about 8 minutes to walk to Smittie’s from Yang’s, Noah figured Yang was either done with the pamphlets or never started them at all. Suppressing anxiety, embracing the kind gesture, Noah pulled out his vape pen and took a couple drags to show he was relaxed and confident…even though he was far from either of those feelings as one could get.
Watching Yang’s lips, fingers, eyes, chest, all move with the rhythm of Noah’s long lost favorite habit. He caught himself and physically shook the thought from his mind. Yang was no blind man.
“You want?” Yang gestured toward his bag of tobacco.
“Nope. I’ve got a year under my belt.” Noah replied
“You still smoking Noah,” Yang laughed.
“Yeah, one thousandth of the chemicals! Vaping’s healthier Yang.”
Biting into his strawberry sprinkle heaven Noah’s mouth was as full as it could get, “I’ve been breathing better since I swapped…”
Swig of coffee to knock back the half chewed bite, “I don’t wake up hacking and coughing anymore. Wanna try it out?”
Yang smirked and shook his head as if to say ‘no thanks’.
Cigarette crackling with a deep pull from his lips…“Okay” spoken on the exhale. Ashtray put to good use. Two holes pushed into his hole; careful not to lose a flake of sugary goodness. He then gestured for Noah to go ahead inside as he pulled a dog treat from his pocket. Dropping his body down like a frog onto the balls of his feet while dusting a bit of sugar on his pants from his one free hand, Yang strategically placed the treat in the center of that palm. Extending his arm just enough to entice the Prince. Willie took the beef jerky square ever so slow and gentle with his sharp yet selective canines. A pat on the head, Yang immediately sprang back up, grabbed his human treats of coffee and doughnut holes, spun around and followed Noah back inside his shop.
Pamphlets already done, Noah could see them lying on the counter in a perfect stack. Yang handed Noah his copy of ‘a book’ back.
“I make thirteen tri-fold. You don’t mind; I took first quote and put on front so look nice. I use more expensive paper. You good customer with church always. I make nothing on this one.”
Walking around to the other side where his cash register had sat for years, Yang pulled out his own copy of ‘a book’.
“Noah you have big balls. I no expect. Need more, I make. No problem book brother.” A wink and a nod to finish his thought.
Dread crept into Noah’s already over-active anxiety-ridden mind. He couldn’t hide any of this from Yang. Going there with Mother every Friday to make copies of coloring sheets for children’s mass; Yang had known Noah since he was a small boy.
What was worse?
Yang knew Mother…too well.
“Uhh…Yang? Can you keep this our little secret? Mother would not approve of my quoting any book that wasn’t the Good One…I honestly don’t think the folks at church would understand either. I’m not ready to hear how disappointed God would be in me…you know Mother better than most; she wouldn’t get it.”
“Yah, yah, yah. Lips sealed. She’d flip!” Yang replied.
Opening his copy of ‘a book’, Yang cleared his throat to quote the quoted Dalai Lama:
“According to Buddhism, reflecting on the reality of suffering never induces either pessimism or despair. It leads to the discovery of the root causes of our plight: Desire, hatred and ignorance, and to a way of freeing ourselves from them. By ‘ignorance’ we mean not understanding the true nature of people and things. It gives rise to the other two poisons. When ignorance dissolves, desire and hatred have no foundation and the source of our suffering has dried up as a result, we experience a happiness that is spontaneously altruistic and that is no longer at the mercy of negative emotions.”
Closing the book and gently placing it back under his register…Yang smiled knowingly.
It was like he understood that ‘something’ Noah was searching for so desperately; he understood Noah’s fear of what those currently closest to him would think. Not only because he knew those people, but because Yang had experienced something similar at one point in his own life not so very long ago.
Noah was clearly scared.
“Do you want to be happy Noah?” Yang said.
He nodded his pitiful head ‘yes’.
“Allow it. You are good man. Now go. I miss my show.”
Yang gave his diplomatic nod goodbye…with a smile you could feel even if he didn’t let it show in the form of raised lips and pearly-white chompers.
Noah set off for the park.
Scared to death.
But resolute.
Into The Mystic, Ash 