In His Shoes

by Eric Lande

I left the house in a hurry. I wanted to shop quickly and return to my computer. I told my partner José that if he needed anything to text. I put on the outdoor shoes I leave at the door and walked to my truck.

As I was driving to town, something felt different. At first, I thought, due to the rain I was driving more carefully.

Perhaps it was José who, when I left the house, was speaking to a friend in Cuba who was telling José about the island’s recent power outages.

I continued driving, a little preoccupied by this strange, almost euphoric experience. Suddenly, a car cut in front of me.

Qué mierda, I thought; el estúpido bastardo.

Wait a minute; I don’t speak Spanish. What’s going on?

I continued driving, having avoided the idiot, arriving at Price Shopper. As I was walking from the parking lot, I felt this strange sensitivity once more. My feet felt ..., well, they felt lighter, more firm. As I had stocking neuropathy, my feet, up to my knees, have less feeling due to irreversible nerve damage. But now, my feet were giving off sensations, as though the neuropathy had suddenly lessened. Happy, I walked into the supermarket and began selecting the items from my list.

Bananas ... mini-watermelons ... kale ... corn ... Boston lettuce ... apples ... had I forgotten something? “No olvides los nuggets de pollo para nuestro perro,” José had called out as I was leaving the house.

Wait! José never speaks to me in Spanish; he knows I don’t speak nor understand him when he does. Qué carajo! One of the other customers, an older lady, stopped and asked if I needed help, that I looked confused.

“No, but thank you for asking,” I told her.

I quickly went to the self-checkout; I needed fresh air.

On the way to my truck, I had this impression that I was walking on air. Weird.

At Tractor Supply, I loaded my cart with wild bird seed and, at check out, I ran into a friend of José, also from Cuba.

“Cómo estás, Daniella? Y los niños?”

“Hi, Aaron. Has José been teaching you Spanish?”

“He wants me to learn, but as they say, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Why do you ask?”

“You just spoke to me in Spanish.”

“I did? That’s ... strange.”

I left the store ... puzzled ... but walking to my truck I marveled at the strange awareness I was again experiencing; the neuropathy seemed to have lessened. My shoes held my feet as though they were a smaller size. Whatever; I was feeling great ... when I received a text. It was from José:

“Oh my god!!! You took my shoes instead of your own.”