A Matter of Unimportance

26. Sage, Dill & Basil

Whenever people approached to purchase something, I always made conversation. I watched and I listened and I read people the way Whaya taught, and then I always picked out a crystal for them to help along in their day.

Helping people. That was more powerful than anything else I'd ever done. That's what Poppy had taught me, and it hadn't even been intentional, which was maybe the most valuable part of all.

This all brings me to a Saturday in late July. I was at my table speaking to a customer when he approached the mercantile. I felt him coming. I don't know how to explain it other than that I'd woken up that morning to ground myself in the garden when a single tiny gray rain cloud had appeared in the sky. I'd watched it move by, heavy and gray without dripping it's moisture. It had stood out against the deep expanse of blue in the cool morning sky. I'd noticed it and I'd thought that maybe it meant today would stand out. Something would come. I just had to wait.

I was speaking to a woman. She was buying a beaded bracelet from me in bright colors. She was telling me it was for her girlfriend that she'd done wrong, and that the bracelet was an apology and also a promise that she'd do better. I gave her a small rose quartz for free to see if that could help repair things. I told her to think of harmony and love.

"Thank you so much," she was saying to me. "I'm going to keep my eye out for you in the future, I promise. Next time I need soap, I'm coming right to you."

I didnt have the heart to mention that I was only going to be making soap for a little while longer. I really was starting to hate the smell. It wasn't that it was a bad practice, but it was just one I'd latched on to during a time of fear and desperation. I was under the control of a fascist dictator. It was not a decision made in freedom, and so it wasn't one I could live with forever.

"What did you say your name was?" She asked as she was turning to walk away.

"Basil," I answered, which was the newest title. That's same day I'd also used Sage and Dill.

The woman nodded and left and I finally had the chance to look up to seek out the energy I was feeling in the air. It had been hovering, quite like that cloud did. Then I saw him.

He was standing back a few feet, seemingly in respect to allow me to finish that previous transaction. However, now that she was gone, he hadn't moved to close the distance. I immediately sensed some type of nervousness in him.

Ryland Brookes, who had asked me to call him Riley, was standing with his eyes angled downwards at the ground, like he'd looked away to avoid staring too obviously before. Behind his long sweeping eyelashes, his eyes moved slightly, just enough to let me know he'd gotten lost in thought while waiting. His hands were clasped infront of him. They were so tight that his skin was pulled white between the joints. His shoulders were rigid. I remembered the odd confidence when he'd kissed me. Before my heart could flutter too much, I remembered how his eyes had looked dewey and wet after he'd cried. The kiss had been salty with leftover tears.

"Riley," I heard myself say his name without reservation.

He looked up sharply, like my voice had jerked him out of some sort of choppy sea. Immediately I saw more of the boy that kissed me and less of the boy that cried. His posture straitened and his hands unclenched. His soft pink lips curled into a smile.

"Basil," he said with interest. He stepped forward all the way until his hips were almost pressed to my low table. I noticed his jeans were a size too big. I had to remind myself not to look that direction. "That's what you told the lady anyways. I had the learn your name secondhand by eavesdropping. Do you know how hard it's been to find you when I forgot to ask your name? And you weren't working the markets apparently? I thought you were avoiding me."