He moved from Lithuania, to Puerto Rico, to Florida, and back, and now I meet him at a Farmer's Market very close to earth day. He is eating vegan wraps with rice flour, carrots, peppers, and peanut sauce so good it can resurrect the dead, sold by an Australian named Luke (later, my uncle will tell me that his last name is Skywalker). I tell Orko that he's bien verde, very green, and he asks me how long I've been here, where I'm from, how long I'm going to stay. College is inevitable in my future; am I in art school? For the camera swinging around my neck... No, no, it's just a hobby, I like to take photos of people (I never take pictures, only photographs). But tell me, what was it like in Lithuania after the fall of the Soviet Union? He can only allude to the alcoholism, the poverty, and his move to Puerto Rico in 1998. I press on. Nothing. Do you have to go? I say to Jamie. I've exhausted my resource of conversations with a total stranger. I like your dress, he says, It's a romper, I reply, gesturing to the elastic band around the leg, but thanks. It was nice to meet you. Have a pleasant stay. I'll see him later walking with his keys in hand towards his appart, I assume, and we'll exchange a timid hello, goodbye. Jamie will tell me that his bag is definitely, definitely, from Forever 21, and I will laugh and say yeah, yeah it is, and we'll walk on and scrub the city and the ocean from our skin and stay inside the rest of the day.
