daines'n around

The train station night manager stopped me and began speaking to me as if he had known me for a few years. He spoke the way many South Americans do, after two sentences, we were best friends. He spoke to the girl standing next to me, scolding her for smoking.

He inhaled the swirling smoke that hovered above our heads and inhaled softly.

"What kind of smoke is that? Is not normal..."

"No, they are vanilla cigarettes."

"Oh, I have not smoked in many many years because it gives you cancer, but can I try one of those?"

I laughed. It takes a beautiful 19-year-old girl and some vanilla-laced nicotine to get any old man to start smoking again. She extended her hand with the cigarette and dug through her expensive label purse for her lighter.

He struggled with the lighter, saying that he had only ever used matches, that those matches were failsafe and always worked. He lit the cigarette but took the lighter away quickly and only lit two-thirds of the tip. He sucked air deeply into his lungs, leaving a small unburned portion of the cigarette.

"This is like eating a delicious sweet!" He raved about the taste of the cigarette.

He spoke quickly in his broken English with no desire to be corrected of his grammatical errors. He apologize every 15 minutes and offered to leave, but his quick sentences and strong opinions made the two hours between trains seem like a matter of minutes.

"I have a game" he announced to the two of us. "I am god."

He paused just long enough for me to make eye contact with the girl sitting just a seat away from me. We communicated telepathically to one another, somehow saying 'oh my where is this going?'

"I am god, yes? Ok. I am god." he stepped back and forth between his right and left feet, puffing and sucking the cigarette to show us precisely how well he thought that vanilla odor tasted.

"Now, I am god and I grant you one wish. Anything in the world, but only one wish. This is my game."

He turned to the girl and stood uncomfortably close.

"You my dear. What do you wish for... anything you want I give you 'cause I am god."

I chuckled in my head. It sounded like he was saying I yam god, and some strange illusion of yams running around in circles wafted in and out of my creative consciousness.

"Happiness." She said simply and easily. I was amazed by her response. I thought for sure she would have gone for money, or property or some other physical display of prosperity.

"Very nice, god makes you happy." He paused and finished the cigarette. "You there, I am god what do you wish for. One thing only!"

I thought.

"Just eliminate hunger in the world."

"The world thanks you! You must be a smart man."

"The world should thank god, I just got a chance to talk to him first."

He scratched his head.