I saw him again today. He was walking along Central Ave going north. I was tempted to make my uber driver stop so I could run him down – there’s so much I want to ask him. I’ve seen him at the super market, at the mall, the park, downtown and at the waterfront too. But I never got a chance to talk to him. He’s always in a hurry going somewhere. I’m intrigued. What’s the odds of spotting the same guy this many times in so many different places?

The first time I saw the mystery man was at the park. I was doing my usual run around the lake when I saw this figure coming toward me. He looked Asian, about my height, bohemian style clothing, full gray beard, in his sixties I’m guessing, long matted hair to his shoulders and piercing eyes that seem to be saying something to me. We passed each other without a word. I made nothing of that meeting, but when I saw him again a week later and then five more times within that same month, I began freaking out.

The uber driver pulls up at my address and I’m thankful for the convenience of that service. My old Honda conked out on me again, yesterday – hopefully I’ll have it back by Saturday if my mechanic is nice to me. I hate the smirky grin on his face when he hands me the bill. Reya should be home by now. Knowing her, she will be in the kitchen fixing something for dinner. We’ve been rooming together for a while now and, well, she’s ready to “finalize things” as she puts it. But I may not be ready – there are things I haven’t figured out about my life, my existence, or my purpose – heavy stuff, yes, I know. Reya thinks I’m crazy. I’ve been reading books on spirituality and I’m trying to understand my connection to the universe? God?

Reya greets me with a kiss at the door and I respond with a grunt and a pat on her tush. She can read me like a book.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw him again today”

“Who? mystery man?”

“Yeah”

Reya is a little agitated by my obsession with mystery man. We get into a tiff about the stranger every time I bring him up. Reya swears the meetings are just coincidental, but something else is happening and I can’t wrap my head around it.

It’s Sunday morning. I wake up anticipating spending most of my time in front of the TV watching the game – the finals start today. The sunlight streaming through the sheer lace bedroom curtains floods the room and makes me squint. I blindly reach for Reya, but instead of her warm body, I get an elbow to my ribs.

“Wake up honey, we’ll be late for church”

“Huh?”

“You promised you’d go to church with me today”

“Oooh . . . alright . . .”

Church. Ugh! I don’t usually attend religious services, but I’m not an atheist. I’ve sang enough hallelujahs in my childhood to last me an eternity. And Sunday school was punishment – misinterpretation of the good book should be a crime. Reya, on the other hand, is a devout Christian and attends services regularly. I’m not going to disappoint her – I’ll go to church with her today. She wants to “convert” me, she says. I don’t object, as long as it doesn’t conflict with my own spiritual search.

The sermon touched on giving and receiving gifts. There are different types of gifts. Some gifts show you care, some fulfill a need and some are just practical. Jesus taught it is better to give than receive. Gift giving can encourage positive change and healing throughout the world. The message is nothing new. Giving and receiving stimulates the flow of spiritual energy in the universe.

It’s Monday morning and I’m on my way to the office. Rush hour on the interstate can be a nightmare, but it’s just another opportunity to test my patience. I park on the top level of the public parking deck and take the elevator down to the ground floor, holding my breath all the way down, to avoid the stink of the urine and filth in the elevator car. I feel for the vagrants who sleep in these elevators. Homelessness is the bane of our society. As I step off the elevator, I almost bump into a figure standing in my way. It’s mystery man.

We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, but before I can find my voice, he calls me, by my name, in a soft, soothing tone.

“Hello Chris”

“Wait . . . who are you?”

“That’s not important. I have something for you”

“Huh?”

Mystery man extends his right hand toward me and in his palm is the strangest object I have ever seen. It looks like a twisted combination of gold and silver metals, intertwined with red, yellow and green twine. I stare at the object with a mixture of hilarity and concern.

“What is that?”

“It’s a special bangle. I want you to wear it”

I do my best not to laugh out loud. A perfect stranger, bearing gifts. What have I done to deserve this? The whole idea of wearing that bangle makes me cringe. And, it would clash with my style. Not cool. As if reading my thoughts, mystery man takes a step closer to me and urges me to take the bangle.

“It will protect you”

“From what?”

“There are unfavorable forces in the universe which can harm you”

“Wait, what? . . . forces . . .?”

The whirlwind of negative thoughts racing through my head paralyzes me. I’m envisioning demons and spirits hoovering around – wait, what am I afraid of? What is mystery man talking about? With a little anxiety and a world of curiosity, I question the stranger about his motives. His answers leave me stunned and confused.

“You are the chosen one, Chris. You must be protected”

“Chosen for what?”

“All will be explained in time. Wear the bangle”

“If you think that I’m gonna traipse around with this thing . . .”

“You will”

The audacity! Just who does he think he is? I’m bent over with laughter, thinking that this has to be a joke – someone is punking me. I straighten up, open my eyes and mystery man is gone. Vanished. I spin around, look up, look down and spin around again and there’s not a trace of the mysterious stranger. I’m left all alone in the parking deck, staring at the weird bangle in my hand. My first impulse is to toss the darn thing in the trash can, but I don’t. I’m not sure why. I hide it in my backpack and continue to my office.

I didn’t get much done at work today. My mind was on the weird encounter with that mystery man. All those previous sightings of him were to prepare me for that one meeting. He knew exactly when and where I would be. On the drive home that evening, I’m trying to figure out a way to explain the bangle to Reya. She will freak out. Strange encounters and magic bracelets don’t sit well with someone as smart and logical as Reya.

“You? The chosen one? Are you out of your mind?”

“Babe, just hear me out . . .”

It took all evening to calm Reya down to where we could have a decent conversation about mystery man and the bangle. Reya says the bangle reminds her of women in India with their armfuls of bracelets and bangles. I ignore her attempts to discourage me and decide to give it a try. Reya has reservations and although I don’t have her blessings, she’s ok with me wearing the strange bangle. What could possibly go wrong? I’m not superstitious but if it’s going to protect me, then why not?

Wearing a bangle isn’t like wearing a wrist watch. I didn’t want it too tight, but I didn’t like it too loose either. I fidgeted and felt awkward wearing it. At the office some people snickered, some laughed outright, some wanted to know if I had lost a bet and one woman from South America said that the bangle is evil and she would pray for me. By mid-week I began feeling ok with the bangle. My arm hasn’t turned green and Reya doesn’t rag me for wearing it. I look for signs of how the bangle is protecting me, but nothing extraordinary has happened yet.

Since receiving the gift of the bangle, strange and wonderful things began happening to me. I hit the lottery – not for much, just twenty bucks. The Honda rides like a new car, I got a promotion on the job, I’m more tolerant of friends and family and Reya is flipping through baby magazines. Fatherhood feels a little less frightening, now.

It’s been a long day at the office and I’m heading home. I merge onto the freeway which is moving at a pretty fast pace. I gun my old Honda into the traffic stream and I panic as I hear sputtering sounds and my car begins to stall out. A rear-end collision could be fatal. The screeching tires and blaring horns behind me only add to my fear. I grip the steering wheel, shut my eyes and prepare for impact.

There are sparkling, twinkling lights shimmering in the dark all around me as I’m floating aimlessly somewhere in the universe. I feel safe. Off in the distance I see what looks to be angels – big feathery wings and flowing gowns. I feel like I am being pulled toward them, but as I get closer, the lead angel’s face begins to change. I have no idea of what demons look like, but I sense that he is one of them. I also sense death. His magnetic draw is hard to resist. The demon’s face gradually transforms into the most hideous image I have ever seen. As he reaches out to grab me, I am engulfed in a sudden burst of star dust and whisked away just in the nick of time. Suddenly, my eyes open and I’m sitting in my car, on the shoulder of the highway, alive. There’s no sign of an accident and I don’t know what happened, but I’m alive. Huh! Wow! The bangle?

Waiting for a tow truck to haul away my stalled car will take a couple of hours. It gives me lots of time to think about the incident. It’s a head scratcher. Wild ideas about the power of the bangle fill my head. Who is mystery man? And why me? Reya picks me up at the repair shop and as we head home, I try to explain to her the strange phenomena about the non-accident. But she wouldn’t hear any of it – your car just stalled out, no big deal, she says.

The following morning Reya drops me off at the repair shop to see about my car. I’ve spent so much time and money at this shop that I hate coming here. Arjun, the Indian mechanic has no love for me either – we always bicker over his prices. I use his shop because it’s convenient – it’s close to home and I never need to make an appointment when my car needs servicing. Arjun stares me down. He addresses me in his curtly Indian sing-song accent and hands me an itemized estimate for the repairs. Sticker shock. I stifle a moan. He says the car won’t be ready for two more days and I throw up my hands in frustration. Arjun spots the garish bangle on my arm and his eyes goggle.

“Where did you get that?”

“Um, a friend gave it to me. You . . . like it?”

“It’s special. I can tell”

Mesmerized by the bangle, Arjun goes into a spiel about good-luck charms, yoga, karma and religion too. He’s never been that friendly to me. Seeing that side of him changes my feelings about him, too. Arjun reaches under his T-shirt and produces a charm in the shape of an elephant’s head – he calls it Ganesh, the Hindu God of wisdom and luck. During our chat, I inadvertently mention the encounter with my mystery man and the mechanic’s reaction bowls me over. He literally bows to me.

“You are blessed. You have good karma”

I smile sheepishly, wanting to believe he’s right. After another bow, he offers his repair services for free. I thank him and I fondle the bangle too, but the car still won’t be ready for two more days.

On every street, every avenue in every neighborhood, I look for mystery man but I haven’t seen him since that momentous day in the parking deck. I have so many questions. I feel like I lost a friend. I go into periods of seclusion but I’m careful not to alienate Reya. We avoid discussions about mystery man but he is constantly on my mind. The mystery of his sudden appearance in my life prompted me to research and read books on spiritual philosophy. The concepts vary by culture, religion and personal experiences. I found, and tend to accept, the idea of a spiritual awakening beyond the limits of my own ego.

I go to church services a little more now – mostly to please Reya, but I’m fighting a losing battle that sermons – or bangles for that matter, can affect someone’s life in a positive way. I can’t deny my spiritual growth.

In light of my newly acquired knowledge, the bangle takes on new meaning and importance. I wear it every day. Reya says she notices a change in my demeanor and she likes it. I realize now, that the bangle is a gift – a very special gift. I am privileged to have received it and the best thing I can do to show my appreciation, is to pass it on to someone who may also be deserving of it. It’s my chance to play a part in stimulating the flow of spiritual energy in the universe.

Arjun was moved to tears when I presented him with the bangle. He bowed again and again and thanked me to a point of embarrassment. He placed the bangle on his arm, bowed again and disappeared in his back office. I found out later that he sold the business and moved away. I think he will be seen somewhere at a super market, a mall, a park, downtown, the waterfront – or in a parking deck, prepping someone . . .

– Carl Ernest