This morning I heard the toaster pop out my English Muffin half, but when I returned to pluck it out, there was no muffin to be found.
Where could it have gone? Was it possible for it to make an Olympic-size leap and land somewhere on my kitchen floor? Peering around the pretend tiles, I saw bits of lettuce, a few dog treats, crumpled plastic wrap that had escaped bowls they were supposed to be protecting, but no regal English Muffin.
Down on my knees, I peered into the gap between the counter that held the toaster and its neighboring GE refrigerator, and sure enough, the toasted half muffin, which I imagined thumbing its crumbs at me, was lounging in the space.
Well I certainly didn't want trapped food rotting in my kitchen, and I was too embarrassed to write a work order requesting maintenance men to tug out the appliance in order to retrieve part of my breakfast. So I thought, "a long stick!"
I took the broom from its named closet, returned to the scene of the grime, and using the handle, plus a powerful whip, steered it out of its hiding place onto the kitchen floor.
After my successful, but perhaps unhygienic maneuver, as I was buttering the half, I thought: someone is teasing me. Could it be my older brother Ronnie who died in October of 2018, or my late husband Tommy, who did the same trip in November of 2012? They were both jokers and I could envision either of them paying a visit.
And suddenly, with that thought, the two of them appeared! There they were emerging from the balcony where they had evidently landed after their trip from beyond.
"Hi Wifey!" Tommy shouted. His face was as young as when we first met in 1996, and now brightened with his view of me.
"Hey Sis!" came Ronnie, who was brushing himself off from cloud dust. He was laughing; oh how I remember that laugh from the brother who was three years older than me and in our Division Street childhood had slept on the side of the bed closest to the window to allay my fears of a nighttime prowler.
I was beyond delighted. "Please tell me you two are friends in heaven," I said.
Now they wrapped their arms around each other's waists. "We're bros," they chorused.
"Cub games, football," Tommy said. "You know we're both Cub fans, so that's not a problem.
"But I forced Tom to switch to the Kansas City Chiefs from the Bears," Ronnie interrupted. He turned to his brother-in-law for confirmation."
"No problem, no problem," Tommy said, winking at me to signal he had the last word.
"So let's get back to my original thought, that one, or maybe both of you, is responsible for that fiasco with my breakfast muffin." I looked from one smiling face to another as both raised their hands to their mouth mimicking the zipped motion to indicate there would be no answer.
"No matter," I said, "if you two need a silly scene to bring you forth in my minds' eye, that's no problem. I'm just overjoyed that you found each other and are buddies."
"That's not a problem, Wifey," Tommy said. "We live in an area called Elaine's Place" and that's where we landed when we, um, left earth."
"Wow, I'm impressed," I said, "An astral area named after me.
Both my boys laughed. "What's the joke?" I said.
"Um, depending on who is due to arrive, the name changes accordingly," Ronnie explained. "That way no one we love, that has just made the long journey, has to wander around searching for familiar faces."
"As much as I love both of you, I didn't plan on joining you soon. So why is my name already there?" The cold air of the opened balcony door was starting to chill me. Or was it something they said that sent the shivers. Were they hinting about my lifespan? I was getting worried.
"I told you she'd freak out," Ronnie said, turning to Tommy to gloat.
"Wifey, that was a bit of a fib," Tommy said. "You're name is not on a signpost up there. We were just trying to assure you that when you do shuffle off this mortal coil..." He paused and turned to Ronnie, "Shakespeare." After this bit of showing off, Tommy continued to me, "You'll be surrounded by loved ones who arrived earlier."
"Well, that's a relief," I said. And as I turned away to butter the runaway muffin, I heard the balcony door open, a whoosh of air, and two male voices laughing as they shouted, "Just move the toaster a few inches to the left!"