Up on the tip of her toes , she reaches further still and grabs that pinkish gold ripe peach in the palm of her hand — nirvana . She pulls down , hard . Bad move . She topples over the fence and into her neighbor ’ s yard . Golden ripe peach secure in her hand , she takes a calming breath with her eyes closed .
A giant shadow falls across her face . She opens her eyes and is met by the stern gaze of a pair of bluish gray eyes , shrouded by a set of bushy eyebrows that belong to the giant of a man poised at the crown of her head . In a flash , she ’ s on her backside , her back against the tree . He glances down at her hand ; she follows his gaze . The peach ! She shoves it into her mouth , bites hard , swallows , gags , and shoves some more , until there ’ s nothing of the peach left . She spits out the pit , and “ sits ” her ground . The neighbor turns on his heels and walks into his house . Almost immediately , he returns with a bowl and places it on Anaisa ’ s outstretched legs . He reaches up above her seated self , plucks peach after peach , and drops them into the bowl ‘ til it overflows . He helps Anaisa up without a word , places the few peaches that missed the bowl on top of the heap , and walks back into his house . Anaisa stands frozen to her spot . For a moment , she eyes the wire fence , but thinks better about it and opts for the front gate instead .
Back inside her kitchen , she sets the overflowing bowl of peaches down on the table set for two , sits on her floor , and wraps her arms around her knees . Orlando lies next to her . His face on his paws , he reflects her somber mood . The butterfly , watching from its usual place on her windowsill , flutters into the kitchen , and perches softly on the crest rail of one of the chairs at the table set for two . Anaisa stares harder at the bowl of peaches and in a flash , she ’ s on her feet . Startled , Orlando does the same . He prances around in circles , tail wagging .
Anaisa ’ s a woman on a mission . One after another , cabinets fly open ; ingredients land on the kitchen counter ; bowls , tin foils , rolling pins , fly out of cabinets beneath the counter , above the counter , the fridge , the pantry ; and a few minutes later , the oven door shuts . Anaisa is covered from head to toe in flour . Orlando ’ s coat is a whiter shade of gold . His face , buried in a bowl licked almost clean of pie batter . The kitchen looks like a tornado went through it . An hour later , a mouthwatering , golden brown , peach cobbler finds its way out of the oven . Anaisa is a vision in her yellow dress . She turns to her window and smoothes down her locks . It cascades down her neck in neat large waves . She picks up the pie , and finds herself in front of her neighbor ’ s door . His eyes land on the pie Anaisa holds up to his face . What man can resist a pie that good looking ? He ushers her in .
His house is like something out of C . S . Lewis ’ imagination . Books and antiques line the walls , shelves , and coffee tables from the narrow hallway to that of the living room . He clears a space on a table littered with even more books , sets the pie down , and rushes out of the room . Anaisa runs her fingers over the spine of one book after another , all wrapped in brown construction paper , with obscure hand written words and Roman numerals on them . The neighbor returns with paper plates and utensils . Anaisa joins him . He clears a seat for her , hands her a set of plastic utensils , and sets about the business of eating pie . He serves her first , then himself , and settles into a chair .
Anaisa takes a bite of hers . He does the same . She quietly takes another . He does the same . She gently slides one of the brown paper covered books over to him and points to the spine . He puts down his fork and writes on its top cover : This Side of Paradise . She flips open the book cover and sure enough , it ’ s F . Scott ’ s Fitzgerald ’ s masterpiece . She slides over another . He pencils in Of Human Bondage . She opens it , correct again ! Her excitement overtakes her . She digs into disordered heaps of brown paper covers , running back and forth from shelves on walls with book after book . The Pearl , Exodus , Their Eyes Were Watching God , Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter , Love in the Time of Cholera , Things Fall Apart . He ’ s half way through the pie when Anaisa dashes off for another book , on the topmost shelf . She hops on the ladder propped against the shelves and reaches for two rather large volumes . He looks up from his pie just in time to see her teeter and fall backwards off the ladder . Books scatter , he breaks her fall . He ’ s a quick one , this man . She looks up at him and chuckles , he shakes his head ; she turns the spine of the volume in her hand to him . With eyes fixed on her beautiful face , he responds On Love and Loneliness . african Voices 29