Blast from the Past

I thought I saw an acquaintance from grade school on the street last night. This was a person I grew up with, far away from here, not necessarily a friend, and not anyone I'd seen or heard of since high school. But it was him. He was still short and skinny, had the same facial structure, and had nearly the same haircut as when he was in first grade. I felt that his black polo shirt and baggy jeans accurately represented what his style would have been if we hadn't worn uniforms at Cathedral Grade School. I knew he had spotted me, too, but he wouldn't expect to run into me halfway across the country. He might not even be able to place me. But I picked up my pace to get a closer look.

We walked in the same direction for about a block before I caught up to him, but when I was right next to him, I saw enough to confirm his identity. I marveled at how amazing life is when people's stories come together unexpectedly. I was getting ready to approach him then. I would simply state his name, get his attention, and say, "It's Anna - from Cathedral! How are you? What are you doing all the way out here? How weird is it that we'd run into each other on the east coast?"

We were walking side by side now. I could tell that he had me in his peripheral vision. He was probably trying to remember how he knew me. Or trying to decide whether or not to approach me. Then his phone rang. It was one of those loud Nokia ring tones from 1999. He answered it, "Si?" As he turned left, he spoke rapid Spanish with a few heavily accented English words. I continued straight. It wasn't him.