A snack before the play. by Joseph

A snack before the play. by Joseph - October 2017 Scholarship Essay

The brisk wind brushed up against the door, and with a creak the door slid open, revealing a very tall man. The top of his hat grazed the panels of the ceiling, and with a slight limp, he walked over in my direction. He was tall, his eyes dark as the night, but yet- I felt unafraid. The man’s eyes had a sense of peace and resilience I had never seen before. I stood up quickly, and reached out my hand. A second that seemed like an eternity lapsed in front of me, before I realized whose hand I was shaking. I had never met anyone famous before. Our hands met, and it dawned on me. I was in the presence of Abraham Lincoln. I would like to say I spoke well and proper, but if I did I would be lying. For the sake of my confidence, I will only reveal the fact that I stammered like a bird without a tune.

“Umm, what’s up… I mean hello sir, um Commander?”

“Abraham,” he said. “Please. Call me Abraham.”

He didn’t seem to mind my uncertain greeting; his humble nature was overbearing. I was never much for words, or fancy writing. Yet, here I was, sitting in some damp and poorly lit room, with a man who changed the world, and sitting in front of me was pen and paper. I couldn’t begin to tell you what I wrote first in that moment, honestly I do not remember. The only record I have of that afternoon is what you are reading in front of you and the memories I can recount. Whether it was God, destiny, or just a really bizarre dream, I do not know. Yet, there we were, Abraham and me.
I looked up from my feverish scribblings when a waitress appeared. She was a beautiful women, and she wore all white; her hair shined even though the room was dim, and from what I could tell her apron looked brand new, like we were the first visitors she had had all day.

A sweet voice exclaimed, “What can I get for you gentlemen to drink?”

Abraham responded, “Tomato juice please.”

I stared for a moment at him, and in my mind, I was dusting off the paragraphs of history books I remembered reading. I asked myself: Did people drink tomato juice back then? I quickly changed my gaze, but Abraham knew I was staring.

“It’s rude to stare you know?”

I quickly apologized.

He chuckled, “It’s quite all right.”

“I just didn’t take you for a tomato juice kind guy.”

He chuckled once more, “It’s good for you, got plenty of fiber.”

My mind began to spin, what was I doing here? And why was Abraham Lincoln here? I must have smacked my head or something.

“Ugh hmm.” The waitress cleared her throat, “Two tomato juices coming up.”

Abraham smiled and replied, “Yes, ma’am and go ahead and get us two orders of cherry cobbler, please and thank you.”

“Who is she?” I asked. “Where are we?”

“You’re full of questions, aren’t you? We’re in purgatory.” He joked.

“So we are in PURGATORY?!” I shouted.

The waitress appeared again. A succulent cherry heat wave smacked me right in the nose, and for a moment, my questions drifted away.

“No questions until you eat!” Abraham declared.

The cobbler was so fresh, it had to have come right out of the oven. The next hour was full of fun and laughter as we joked with each other and enjoyed the fresh cobbler. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a bad combo with the tomato juice- who could’ve known, but Abraham. He told me about the death of his son, and the heartache he had gone through. Although he looked quiet, on the inside he was just like everyone else really; someone who needed a friend. We talked about philosophy, love, and the meaning of God.

After we finished the cobbler, Abraham took one last sip of his juice and stood up.

“I apologize, but I am afraid I must go. I just remembered my wife wanted to go to the theater tonight.”

I stared and tried to utter a word, but I couldn’t think of the right thing to say.

“But…”

“Don’t worry about me. With every end, there is a new beginning.”

“Before you go, can you please tell me about this place?” I asked.

“I do not know really. But I do know this place is not of man’s doing. I have visited here many times. I have talked with the great Aristotle, and debated with some of the most intellectual human beings on the planet. Yet I do not know how, or quite frankly why… But I have learned much from everyone I have met here. Those individuals have taught me tolerance, and have expanded the depths of my intellect.”
“And what’s the point of this pen and paper?”

“That my friend, is up to you. Remember this: your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other thing. Now, I must go, Farewell.”

I stood up out of my chair and shook his wide, firm hand.

“But how do I get out of here?”

Abraham chuckled, “Go down the hall, and take a left. There you will find two doors, and the choice after that, well, that is up to you.”