Free Out Of This World by Annette Mori Page A

not done anything remotely aggressive or violent. I shrugged and continued to concentrate on driving to Seattle.
    Seattle is one of the worst cities to navigate because the traffic sucks at all times of the day or night. You’d think that Sunday morning would be clear sailing on the highway into the city, but you would be wrong. Traffic slowed to a whopping thirty-five miles per hour. Either there was an accident or maybe some big event was happening. I didn’t have a social life so I rarely paid attention to the numerous entertainment options the city had to offer.
    Finally, we cruised into the downtown area and I found one of those all day parking lots a couple of blocks from Pike Street Market. I was starving because we hadn’t stayed for breakfast and it had taken us nearly two hours to get to Seattle because of the crappy traffic. We made a beeline to the market because it was one of the best places to graze for a scrumptious meal.

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    Pike Street Market is a major tourist attraction and always a flurry of activity regardless of the day of the week, but Sunday was particularly busy.
    Celeste and I got lost in the crowd as I led her to a row of market vendors selling fresh seafood, baked goods, and ethnic specialties from every possible nationality. One of my favorites was a vendor selling chicken gyros. Although fresh fish and Seattle are synonymous, I was hankering for some Greek food and politely declined offers from the fish vendors. I ordered two gyros and a large Greek salad for us to share. I was looking forward to hearing Celeste hum again.
    “Everything smells so wonderful.” Celeste was looking from side to side trying to take in all the activity around her. When she noticed the flower vendor across the way, she made a beeline for the vibrant display. The bouquets presented a visual burst of color and invaded the senses of both sight and smell. It was as if an artist had personally arranged the canvas to heighten our experience. I took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet scent of Asian starburst lilies.
    Celeste stuck her nose inside one of the lilies and the pollen left a large streak of orange all over her face.
    I knew it would be difficult to remove so I giggled at the absurdity of this beautiful woman with a ridiculous smudge on her nose and cheek. She looked like a child who had gotten into something she shouldn’t have.
    I took a napkin and tried to brush it off, but the pollen stubbornly refused my efforts.
    The owner of the gyro stand called out my name to let us know the order was ready. I grabbed Celeste’s hand, led her to an empty table, and then walked over to pick up our order. Placing the gyro in front of Celeste, I dramatically proclaimed, “Your food, m’lady.”
    Celeste giggled and took a nibble of the tasty treat.
    “What is this food?” she asked.
    “It’s Greek food. Greece is this wonderful country by the Mediterranean Sea and the gyro is their version of the American hotdog. It’s Greek junk food, except in Greece, they stick French fries in the middle. They don’t make gyros like that here in the US.”
    Celeste just stared at me like I had two heads or something.
    “Oh, you probably want to know what’s inside. It’s basically seasoned chicken with condiments.”
    She took another big bite and mumbled, “I like this gyro.”
    She started humming again and I grinned at her. I was getting used to her eccentricities. Except for the fact that I had to explain a lot of things to her and she insisted she was from another planet, you’d never know she was a nut case.
    We gobbled down the salad and I tossed our garbage in the nearest trash can before venturing out into the rest of the market. On a whim, I stopped at the flower vendor and bought a bouquet of Asian lilies. I figured if Celeste was going to wear their mark of shame, the least I could do was introduce her to the way that the flowers permeate the air and take over whatever enclosed space they end up