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This is an anecdote, a true one, that happened while I lived in Miami.

I lived for years in Miami. It was there I raised my sons. We adopted ten boys eventually; all of them “troubled teens”. Only one of them is involved in the incident I will relate �" Joey.

 

            Joey was nineteen. He was born in Puerto Rico and raised in Brooklyn. He is a dwarf, standing four inches above four feet tall. You probably have a good idea of his personality just from that information. Now, imagine a dockworker off the Jersey Shore, well over six feet tall, broad shouldered, muscular; sqwoosh him down to Joey’s height. You’ve now an accurate picture of my son.

 

            You should know about MS Atlas. She always insisted that the “MS” should be capitalized. She got that name from a picture we took at the Planetarium down on South Miami Avenue. On that visit, an exhibit - an enormous globe, more than twenty feet in diameter, suspended from the ceiling �" that fascinated her. She climbed the velvet rope and took up an “Atlas” pose seeming to support the globe. Security Guards made us leave, but we got some great photos. MS Atlas was one of those “cookie lady” types that had a habit of showing up with a gift of goodies, cookies, something she had baked, as an excuse to stay and visit. Her other eccentricity was penguins. You’ve met people who collected owls, unicorns…clown paintings. MS Atlas collected penguins. She collected them in any form. Paintings, photos, plush toys, statuettes, you name it.

 

            One evening MS Atlas stopped by our home and brought with her a generous gift of cookies. She carried them in a plastic-coated box with a closure at the top not unlike a milk carton. It was a favorite of hers because around its circumference marched a line of dancing penguins. It was unique and was always called “The Box of Penguins”. She stayed for supper that night, Her visits were often suspiciously timed so that they might possibly include a dinner invitation, but MS Atlas was always welcome in our home. I’ll confess that the warmth with which we welcomed her was in no little measure attributable to the fact that her baked goods were superb.

 

            When she left for home that night, she left behind The Box of Penguins. This was a very rare thing for her to do.

 

            MS Atlas worked in a head shop called Potpourri Athene, well known in Miami. They sold drug paraphernalia. They called it something else, of course. Somehow, calling their merchandise by an innocuous name kept the storeowners from being arrested. As a sort of camouflage, the store contained a bookstore filled with books on “magick”, as well as crystals, black light posters, and a variety of “new age” items. This was where MS Atlas worked.

 

At that time, I worked for the power company in Miami. My job largely involved answering phones and answering strange technical questions. I was the guy people called when they didn’t get an answer through the usual channels. My first phone call the next morning was MS Atlas. She wanted me to bring The Box of Penguins to her at her place of work.

 

           

The fact that I was at work didn’t really matter to her. I had The Box of Penguins. She needed The Box of Penguins. She had plans that required The Box of Penguins to be brought to her. I, therefore, should figure out a way to make this happen. She had that kind of focus.

            It is important to know all of these elements, Joey, MS Atlas, and the Potpourri Athene for my story to make sense.

 

            My boss, Fred, walked in on the beginnings of that first phone call of the day and stood patiently by waiting for me to finish. As MS Atlas became more demanding that I bring her The Box of Penguins and I remonstrated with ever-greater vigor, I struck on the idea of calling Joey and having him deliver it. Explaining my plan I hung up on MS Atlas and phoned Joey, explaining to him where she worked and what he was to do. He agreed and all was well. I turned to face my boss to find out what he wanted, a questioning look on my face.

 

            I found him looking at me with a very puzzled expression, “Did you just send a Puerto Rican Dwarf with a box of penguins to a magic shop?”

 

            “Well…yeah.”

 

            He turned and left. I never did find out what he wanted.