Follow the Bouncing Ball

"Reincarnation, bull," said Harry G. disgustedly. "Soul mates, chance meetings at libraries --- it's all bunk."

Steve, Harry's friend for years, shrugged his shoulders. The curly-haired partner continued his broadside while the straight-haired one played the role of listener.

"There are six BILLION people in the world. Do you honestly believe that when one meets another --- say, a boy from Timbuktu glances at a girl from Auckland at an airport --- that it's PRE-arranged?" He nodded his head as he looked out the window. "The reincarnators would say that we might have met a hundred lifetimes before, and for some karmic reason we won't get any closer than a thirty-second meeting for another hundred. The debt will be paid in that short time, then we can meet again next millennium and both live happily ever after. Get off it!" Harry looked outside intently, then signaled his partner. He pointed at a beautiful woman standing on the curb.

"Steve smiled. "Well," he said teasingly, "if you don't believe in reincarnation but in chance meetings, then why don't you take Fate into your own hands and introduce yourself to that sweet young thing? See if there's a long-lost bond or it's all just happenstance."

Harry watched the woman closely. Blond, trim, and well dressed, she

gulped a hot dog at a street vendor. Something was out of place, out of character.

"Hmm," mused Harry. Then he caught himself and said, "Come on, we have better things to do than test theories. We have business."

After the two men had finished their morning's work they went their separate ways. Harry headed downtown: he felt like doing spaghetti. When he entered Lorelli's, his favorite Italian hideout because it had red-squared tablecloths and garlic that jumped off the bread, he saw that he'd chosen a busy time. The only table available was a two-chair booth against the wall. Today's newspaper reserved one of the chairs. Harry was hungry so he did what he seldom did: he sat down without checking out his imposed-upon lunch-mate. Harry G. was as conservative as he was skeptical.

A few minutes later he was at the salad bar, his own paper claiming the last chair. When he turned to sit, he stared into the blue eyes of a middle-aged blond. After a double-take, he apologized. "I realize," he half-stammered, "I should have asked to sit here, but this was the only seat left and you were gone."

The lady, comfortable with the apology, shrugged it off with a flick of her stylish hair.

After they'd ordered, Harry continued. "Forgive the age-old line, but I reallyhaveseen you before. And I'll tell you where and when. A half an hour ago I looked out my office window and saw you eating a hot-dog at the vendor's. At State and Vine. The reason I'm mentioning it is that at the time I was impressed by the way you gobbled it down --- as if you hadn't eaten in three days. Yet are now ordering a full meal. It's none of my business, obviously, but it is interesting. And I repeat, not a line at all."

The girl smiled and said, "I agree. It's not a line, it's an observation. An

observation peppered by natural curiosity. And we're not really strangers since we've met twice now. To satisfy your curiosity...," and she told her lunch-mate that she'd slept late, missed breakfast, had worked so non-stopingly she hadn't had time to eat even a donut at coffee break -- or even take a break -- and convinced she wouldn't make it to the closest restaurant without starving, grabbed the first thing that resembled food. With that, she unceremoniously slurped a long strand of sauce-dripping pasta.

Harry laughed out loud. He also laughed when, back at the office, he told Steve of his chance encounter. Steve was especially alert when his partner said both pasta lovers slurped spaghetti and neither felt embarrassed. Steve also noticed that his friend seemed to speak about his lunch for an inordinate length of time and focused mostly on the girl.

"I think," concluded Steve, during a pause in his partner's monologue, "that you are invalidating your earlier premise. It's apparent to me that this was no chance meeting and that you got along so well with what's-her-name that it suggests strongly that you've known each other previously, probably in Italy. And if you weren't married way back when, you were lovers at least."

Harry stared vacantly, then laughed uncontrollably. He could think of no fitting words. He fiddled with a pack of Camels and his lighter.

"So," said Steve half teasing, "when do we see her next? Tonight for supper? At Lorelli's, where you had your first date?"

Harry laughed again but still didn't answer.

"Hello, You got her number, didn't you? Address? And a date for dinner, right?"

Finally Harry answered monosyllabically and in the order of the questions. "No. No. And no. And her name is Penny."

Eyes glazed, Harry then said that the two had felt so natural, so defenselessly comfortable, that without thinking, each assumed he/she would see the other that they didn't make arrangements for the future .

High Above in the indefinite Ether, the Cosmic Matchmakers laughed out loud. "Poor mortals," snickered Hector. "They intellectualize and hypothesize and philosophize their brains to death. It's a miracle any of them get through the Pearly Gates at all."

"Don't knock them," answered Amber, President of the Division. "You were one, too, way back when."

"Yes, but I was an ignorant brick layer. And you never caught me delving into areas beyond my capabilities."

"I know, you've told me a million times. You laid and laid and laid and never saw a single one of your productions."

"Right. One brick at a time, that was my motto. And why not? The Big Picture is completely beyond human understanding. Humans should stick to what they can do, not mess around with things they wish they could do."

At that, Amber poked a button. "It's done. The match between Harry and Penny is hereby cosmically decreed.

"How many earth months?"

As the President poked another button she said, "Three."

"And how many kids have you ordained?"

Another button and the word, "Two. They'll name the boy Steve."

"No. I want this one go a long, long time."

"Like Death Do Us Part?"

"Yes. It fits their romantic sides."

"That," chuckled Vice President Hector, "and keeping them wondering about reincarnation and Karma. After all, the Boss said our job description is to keep the mortals wondering. For the rest of their lives Harry and Penny will tell the story of their "chance" meeting when he saw her at the hot-dog vendor at the exact moment he was musing about reincarnation."

"Good one," said Amber. "I wonder if the Boss will give us a bonus?"