Grandmother's Magical Peppers

Charlotte ate green peppers all day long. She was convinced that peppers were a magic food. Her grandmother swore by the healing properties of green peppers.

She remembered her tall, willowy grandmother who moved like a dancer. She had a musical voice and long slender fingers as she sliced the peppers at the sink. She would sing a tune as her sharp knife snapped on the wood cutting board. Periodically she would eat a sliver of green pepper, enjoying the crunch as she cleaned up the core and dropped them in the trash.

"Gramma, what magic do the peppers have?" asked Charlotte.

Gramma would turn to face Charlotte with soft gray eyes and smile at her. A deep gentleness exuded from her that settled Charlotte, like warm chocolate milk on a winter evening.

"Darling, green peppers are as magic as life. They are crisp and cool and make you strong. Grandpa would have told you, when he was here.

"If you don't take chances," said the man in striped pajamas, "you might as well not be alive."

"That was what Grandpa always said, and it's true!,"said Grandmother.

"The magic happens on the very first bite, you know. When we first met, Grandpa saw me in the post office picking up mail. He was a postal carrier, and I just happen to be in picking up the mail for my mom and dad. He didn't speak to me the first time we met, or the second time, for that matter. He would just pick up the mail and look at me for a long moment. I thought there might be something wrong with my hair or the clothes I was wearing, but he would just kind of smile awkwardly and walk out of the door shaking his head.

The third time we met, we actually bumped into each other at the door. I was coming in and he was leaving with a bag of mail. I was carrying a bag of peppers from the local grocery store that mom had asked me to pick up. When we bumped into each other, the bag of peppers opened and spilled all over the post office floor! Your grandfather bent over and pick them all up. He brushed them off and put them back into the bag before handing them to me. It was then that he finally said hello and said that his name was Marco.

I took the peppers home to my mom and she sliced them for a salad and I told her that I had met somebody at the post office. She smiled knowingly at me and gave me the bowl of peppers to put on the table. That night there was a knock on the door. My dad answered it. To my surprise, Marco was standing at the door holding a bunch of cut flowers. I think it would have cost him a full week's wages to purchase those flowers at the florist in town. Most people only bought flowers for funerals. Marco came over to ask for a moment with me.

My father chuckled. It reminded him of the time he invited his mother to dinner. His mother had such a commanding presence and he had wanted to impress her by taking her out to the local fine restaurant. He had worn the uncomfortable suit where the neck was too tight and he had to clear his throat several times to ask his mother out. Fortunately, she took pity on him and said yes.

Marco cleared his throat and shuffled his feet uncomfortably in front of my father. My father opened the door to let the young man come in.

Your grandfather was speechless again, but he stood there holding the flowers awkwardly until my father open the door and ushured him into the sitting room.

Your grandfather was holding a pepper in his other hand.

I met your daughter at the post office today, Marco said. We bumped into each other and she dropped the bag of peppers. It seems that there was one left behind, and I wanted to return the pepper to her. My father let out a hearty laugh and slapped your grandfather on the shoulder.

"Anyone who would return a magic pepper to my daughter is definitely welcome in my home!" Dad told him.

"Yes, Charlotte, there is wonderful magic in peppers!"

This ends my weekend freewrite hosted by @mariannewest.
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