Archie’s mother walked back in to put a pair of shoes by the stairs and patted Archie’s arm as she did.
“All right dear, no more food for you. Bring your notebook. Maybe you’ll observe a thing or two for your column.”
She chuckled as she walked back toward the kitchen, so Archie followed her.
“Mother. Why did you laugh?”
“I didn’t laugh.”
“Yes, it was just a little bit, but you did laugh. Why?”
“Archie. I didn’t even realize I did. Why are you being so sensitive? What’s come over you?”
Archie stood in silence for a moment and wondered, What has come over me?
Looking at his mother he asked seriously, “Now that I’m twenty, do you think I should look for more work?”
She looked at him thoughtfully.
He continued, “I mean, I don’t know what else there is to be done in the way of an occupation. We both know my limitations.”
Archie knew as soon as he said it, it was the wrong thing to say. His mother had always told him, “The only things you can’t do are the things you aren’t meant to do.”
So naturally her response was, “Limitations?” and she said it as though she’d never heard the word before.
“That’s not what I meant,” Archie said. “You know I’ve never felt inadequate. I’ve accepted the things about me that are different. If I ever had the opportunity to feel sorry for myself, I don’t remember it.”
Archie’s mother went to stand with him under his umbrella.
“Then what’s changed? Aren’t you satisfied with your column?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I am satisfied, but it doesn’t pay very well, at least not much in the way of supporting myself, and I will have to support myself at some point.”
Archie hesitated, “What if. Well . . . what if . . .” He dropped his head and sighed.
Annella lifted his chin. “What if what, Archie?”
Archie looked at his mother with one eye squinted, “What if I were to fall in love?”
Annella was surprised by Archie’s confession. “Have you met someone?”
Archie quickly shook his head, “No, no. I haven’t met anyone.”
“No?” she asked with curiosity.
Archie shook his head and continued, “It’s just that when I helped you cater the wedding last week, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the bride and groom. I found myself wondering if it would ever be me.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I want it to be. But what if it’s not meant to be? What if I can’t ever move beyond the Observation Column?” He rolled his eyes as he said it.
“Archie, the only thing that can stop you from having the life you desire is you. You have to pursue life as it presents itself to you.”
Archie asked, “But should I be looking?”
“Perhaps,” she answered, “but remember, your future will be established one day at a time just as each day you’ve already lived has been. There may not be any doors open for you today, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be any tomorrow. Try not to be anxious about it. You can’t force things that aren’t meant to be. See what I’m saying?”
“Yes. I see,” was all he said.
Looking up at her son, she added, “Archie, falling in love is entirely possible.”
A look of relief spread over his face, “Thank you, Mother.”
His mother shook her head and asked, “Who was that girl, Archie?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
3
Archie’s mother, known by most as Chef Annella, was one of three notable chefs who lived in Outlandish. Each of them owned their own restaurants and they’d all won awards for their dishes.
Annella didn’t work at the restaurant because she had to, for her husband, Albert, was rich; Annella worked because cooking made her happy. She would have done it for free just to watch people react to the flavors of her dishes, but Albert, an entrepreneur, bought her the seaside restaurant so they could make a profit off of her talent. He would say, “It’s just good business.”
Albert wanted to call the restaurant “Annella’s,” but she insisted on calling it Flavors of the Earth, because flavors were Annella’s life. She’d invested a good many years establishing what tasted good with what. Her admiration for food was slightly amusing, but she took it so seriously that no one would ever dream of laughing at her.
Flavors of the Earth only had one table inside with an umbrella, and it sat in the back corner by the kitchen. That table was Archie’s, and it was where he sat reading his book on the evening of his birthday. His mother did come out of the kitchen on occasion, and his father even popped by for a bit while on an errand, but Archie mostly entertained himself.
He had just returned to his table with a cup of tea and stuck his head back in his book when he heard a voice say, “Hello. Is this seat taken?”
When Archie looked up and saw the same blonde from earlier in the day, he felt his heart quicken and worried he’d find himself in a full-fledged panic attack, so he purposely took some slow, deep breaths (hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that he was trying to recover).
Though he knew his voice would certainly be shaky, he still attempted to speak. Unfortunately, when his lips parted, no sound came out. He opened his eyes a little too widely in surprise at his failure and then tucked his chin toward his neck.
Determined to prevail, he tried again.
“This. This table is private,” he managed to say. “I mean to say . . . um . . . there are other tables available . . . ones you may sit at.”
“Oh,” she said, looking a little disappointed.
“Would you like me to locate one for you?” he asked. “This is my mother’s restaurant, after all.”
“Oh, is it?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes,” answered Archie.
She turned to take a quick look around the restaurant, looked back at Archie, and said, “So I can’t sit here with you?”
Archie, caught off guard by her question said, “Well, no. I mean . . . there’s no need for that.”
Spreading his arms toward the room, he said, “Look. Tables. Everywhere.”
Archie noticed red blotches beginning to appear on her face and neck.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed a bit. “Ye-es. Why do you ask?”
He put his palms out toward his face and wiggled his fingers a bit. “Well, you’re a bit . . . um . . . well, a bit, splotchy.”
She put her hands up covering her lower face and neck.
Speaking through her hands, her words were a muffled, “Oh, I always do that.”
“But you are all right?” Archie asked again.
“Yes,” she said removing her hands from her face. “I do that when I’m embarrassed.”
“Oh, did I embarrass you?” Archie asked.
“Yes, I guess you did,” she replied with a little smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his head, feeling a little shame. “I’m afraid if I did it is because I am a bit shy of strangers. It wasn’t my intention.”
The lady put her hand out with a little reservation and said, “I’m Tallie. Tallie Greenleaf.”
Archie hesitated in putting his hand out to shake as he still felt a little jittery, but because her hand was outstretched, he could think of no way around it.
“Ms. Greenleaf,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Oh, no, just call me Tallie,” she said, taking his hand.
Archie nodded.
Tallie stood waiting for Archie to introduce himself, but when he remained quiet, she asked, “And you are?”
Archie’s body jerked as if coming out of a trance, and he said with a nervous laugh
, “Oh, sorry. I’m Archibald Plumby.”
Tallie smiled, “It’s very nice to meet you, Archibald. Please forgive me for being persistent. I’m not stalking you. I do have a purpose.”
“Oh?” said Archie.
“Yes, I’m a photographer-in-training, actually. I’ve been working with Gemma Perrelli.”
Tallie waited for Archie to react to the name Gemma Perrelli, but his expression didn’t change.
“You haven’t heard of her?” she asked, shaking her head.
“No.”
“Oh. Well, she’s a very well-known photojournalist,” she answered.
“Is she?” Archie asked.
“Yeah, anyway, I’m somewhere between her personal assistant and her student. Still learning the ropes, you know.”
Archie nodded and asked, “And is she here with you in Outlandish?”
“She will be. Tomorrow. She’s been in Europe. She sent me ahead to look for some new material.”
“Why Outlandish?” Archie asked.
“You tell me. Why is everyone so enamored with this place?”
Archie surprised himself by saying, “Well, maybe you should have a seat then?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said with a look of satisfaction.
Archie stood and put his hand out to the chair across from him. Tallie sat down.
“You’ve not been here before?” he asked.
“No, I’m from Portland. Well, not actually from Portland. I’m staying with a friend there.”
“I see.”
“So Ms. Perrelli tells me Outlandish is known for being a little odd.”
“Odd?” asked Archie.
“Oh no. Did I offend you?” Before he had time to answer, she added, “Ms. Perrelli just said Outlandish has its own sort of culture—that things are different here. That’s all I meant.”
Archie shrugged and said, “I’ve lived here my entire life. In fact, I’ve only been away from Outlandish a few times, and not for many years, so I don’t really have a basis for comparison.”
“Okay,” Tallie said with a nod. “So why do you think people like Outlandish? I mean, people obviously love visiting.”
Archie surprised Tallie by asking, “Do you find it odd?”
“Well, I’ve only been here a couple of days, but yeah, a little bit.”
“Maybe I’m just a little odd myself and that’s why I don’t see it,” Archie said while shrugging one shoulder.
Tallie smiled at Archie. “Well, I only just met you, so I wouldn’t know, but who’s normal anyway? I think we’re all odd in our own way.”
Archie said, “I quite agree,” but then he looked up at the umbrella above him and turned his attention back to Tallie. “But then there’s my umbrella. It is what caught your attention, yes?”
“Yes,” she said with a smile, “I’ll admit, it did. I’ve been here a couple of days and every time I’ve seen you, you’ve been underneath it.”
“There are a lot of umbrellas on the beach. How did I manage to stand out?”
“Oh, it’s just that you seem to be the first one on the beach in the morning, and what’s visually appealing to me as a photographer is the look of the one man . . . under the umbrella with the wide shore . . . and the large sky.”
Archie lifted his eyebrows, surprised by her attention to detail.
She put both of her palms against the tabletop, leaned forward, and said, “And if you could see it from my point of view, you’d totally understand.”
“I think I can understand.”
“May I ask where you get your umbrellas?” Tallie asked. “Every time I’ve seen you, you’ve had a different one.”
“We actually order them from a man in London.”
“London, really? Why all the way from London?”
“Mostly because of the way they fold up. They’re much easier to manage.”
“How does it fold up?” she asked.
Archie took his umbrella from the wall and demonstrated underneath the large table umbrella. Holding it up, he said, “See how it looks like it’s inside out?”
“Yeah, upside down, too . . . like the handle’s on the wrong side.”
“That’s right,” he said. “What you’re looking at is the interior of the umbrella, not the exterior. When you push on this,” he said pushing up on the shaft’s runner, “it opens down over you instead of out and up.”
Pulling back down on the runner he added, “Then when you pull down on this to close it, the umbrella collapses from the outside in.”
Tallie looked perplexed and shook her head.
“It’s made my life much easier,” Archie added.
“You make it sound like you need the umbrella on more occasions than most people.”
Archie smiled and added, “The truth is, looking up into open space is quite a challenge for me. Impossible actually.”
“What do you mean, impossible?” she asked.
“Well, I can turn my head and look up. It’s not a physical inability. It’s my mind. It doesn’t quite know what to do with what it sees.”
“So you need the umbrella as a shelter?” Tallie asked.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Oh. Is there a name for it?” she asked.
“Doctors have told us it is similar to anablephobia—which is the fear of looking up—but most people with anablephobia are only bothered by large open spaces, like the sky or an auditorium. I can’t even look at an eight-foot ceiling.”
Tallie didn’t want him to regret opening up to her. She had a feeling it wasn’t something he did often. So in hopes of conveying a general curiosity without prying too much, she only said, “Interesting.”
Archie nodded. “Most people with anablephobia can just avoid looking up. They walk with their heads down or keep their eyes lowered. I don’t think there are many that require an umbrella.”
“Could it just be a more severe case?” Tallie asked.
“Maybe. But typically cases develop over time or after a trauma. I seem to have been born with it.”
“Will you ever be cured of it?” she asked.
“Not likely,” Archie answered. “I’ve tried a good deal of therapies through the years, but here I am, still me. Right where I started. Well, not exactly where I started, I guess. I do cope a little . . . a lot better now.”
“Do you mean you’ve learned how to live with it?”
Archie explained, “When I was twelve, my mother asked me if I would like to continue searching for treatment or just accept it and move on with my life. I decided I would like to accept it, and I’ve never given it another thought. It’s just the way I am. I have no quarrel with it.”
Tallie said in almost a whisper, “See, I knew there was something special about you.”
Archie set the left side of his face down into his palm and raised his eyebrows exaggeratedly. “Oh no, not special. Just an additional helping of peculiar.”
“Exactly!” said Tallie. “That’s what I mean. That’s why I’m here.”
Archie moved his hand off of his face and clasped his hands in front of him. “So what is it you want with me?” he asked.
“I would like to photograph you.”
“I’m afraid that will be impossible,” Archie was serious. “Posing for photographs has never been my forte. You’ve seen how much I like attention.”
“But would you be willing to let me get my photographs if I didn’t bother you at all? I’d like to photograph you as you go about your normal routine. I promise you won’t even know I’m there.”
“What will you do with your photographs once you have them?” Archie asked.
“I’m not sure, but I promise not to use them unless I have your permission.”
Archie sighed. “Well, go ahead and practice on me t
hen, but I can promise you, if I see you taking them, I’m bound to run.”
Tallie laughed, “Yes, I believe you will.”
Annella walked out of the kitchen and over to the table with a fresh pot of tea, thinking she would share it with Archie. When she saw Archie sitting with someone (and wondered if it might be the same girl she had seen out the window), she decided she would serve them the tea instead.
She walked up to the table with the tea tray in hand and said to Tallie, “Hello. I’m Annella, Archie’s mother.”
“Oh, hi, I’m Tallie.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Tallie. Are you new to Outlandish?”
Tallie heard Annella’s question but was too delighted with her accent to answer. “You have an English accent! I love it!”
Archie looked at his mother and smiled. Annella smiled back at him before turning her attention back to Tallie. “Yes, I was born and raised in England.”
Tallie appeared a little embarrassed and said, “I’m sorry. I’ve always had this thing for English accents.”
Annella said, “Don’t worry dear, newcomers often take notice of it.”
“Oh good,” Tallie said. “Anyway, yes, I’m new here, but I’m just visiting. Doing some work actually. I’m a student photographer.”
Annella smiled, “Outlandish is a perfect place for a photographer. Isn’t it beautiful here?”
“Really amazing.”
“And how did you come to meet Archie?” Annella asked.
Archie didn’t wait for Tallie to answer. “Oh, she came in looking for a table, so I invited her to sit with me.”
Archie’s mother looked at him in disbelief, but then said with a smile, “Well, wasn’t that nice of you. Do you take tea, Tallie?” she asked, holding up the teapot.
“Not usually, but how can I refuse tea from an Englishwoman?”
Annella laughed while setting an orange teacup and turquoise saucer in front of Tallie. “I hope you’ll enjoy it,” she said pouring the tea.
“What pretty dish colors,” said Tallie as she ran her finger along the turquoise saucer.
“Mother loves colors—all of them.” Archie smiled at his mother.
Annella nodded. “Well, Archie, how nice to have someone join you for tea on your birthday.”
Archie of Outlandish Page 2