Page 123 of Enthrall
It felt sad to crush the cute little ball. Have it join all those other pieces of plastic that had gone before it. Shards of blue lay discarded on the bottom.
Richard took mine from me and crushed it beneath the wooden lid. “May I?” He peeled open the cracked ball and read the message on the tiny scroll.
I tried to peek.
Richard brought his hand to his mouth, suppressing his laughter. His eyes lit up and crinkled with joy.
“What does it say?” I failed to ease it back out of his hand.
Richard laughed hysterically. “Mia, this is in Cantonese. You took it out of the wrong jar.”
I burst out laughing, seeing how ridiculous that was.
“We’ll keep it safe.” He tucked it into his coat pocket. “There’s something alluring about a mystery.”
“You’re a mystery.”
He smiled coyly, took my hand in his as he led us down a well lit hallway.
We stepped out of the first temple only to be greeted by a sweeping stone courtyard. Up ahead stood yet another temple, only this one was larger than the first, it’s design intricate. The dramatic, highly decorated tiled roof swept wide above it. It felt like we’d traveled to Asia. The fall breeze rustled leaves around us. Another monk strolled past. A few other visitors ambled by.
There, to our right, stood a fountain surrounded with even more statues and all of their expressions serene. The soothing sound of the falling water filled the courtyard. We made our way up the sweeping stairway, soon reaching the second temple.
Following Richard’s lead, I took one of sticks of incense stored in a jar and we made our way over to the open candle flame to light them. Carried on a wisp of white smoke came the scent of jasmine. I closed my eyes and breathed it in.
“Say a prayer,” said Richard.
“A wish.”
That he’d open up to me and let me in. Give us the chance we needed for our relationship to stand any chance of surviving.
He broke my gaze.
Inside the shrine we were greeted by three more Buddha statues, only these were much grander. Reverently, we knelt upon the plush red cushions and admired the grand, golden gods.
“We’re not worshiping them,” whispered Richard, gesturing toward them. “These symbols are merely used to help us focus our minds, stir devotion, and elicit gratitude.”
Soaking in their peace, grateful for these moments of quiet, I marveled at the kaleidoscope of Richard’s life and his ability to stretch across the spectrum of human experience including extremes of pain, pleasure, and, more surprising, spirituality.
The scent of incense. The hushed silence. The reverence of others.
There were thousands of tiny perfectly aligned Buddhas set inside small alcoves in the surrounding walls, each with a personalized plaque beneath, and I wondered if they represented loved ones who’d died. We knelt for some time, my hand in his, our incense held out before us, sharing the sacredness.
Richard gestured he’d found comfort here. I had too.
We placed our still burning incense sticks just outside the shrine in what looked like a miniature black temple. Gently, we set them side by side and upright in the center of the sand. Smoke wafted along with the promise our prayers would be heard. We made our way over to the temple tea and souvenir shop where Richard found us a private corner table. We nursed our china cups of tea and continued to savor the peacefulness. Richard’s shoulders were relaxed and for the first time I sensed his calmness. This place made it easy to welcome the tranquility in. Soothing lost souls who came to find refuge. It’s non-judgmental aura comforted.
“Cameron brought me here three days after I arrived in L.A.” Richard’s gaze swept the room as though remembering.
Wrapping my fingers around my cup, warming them, I sipped my tea, refreshed by its delicate flavor.
“I have a confession,” said Richard softly.
“Oh.”
“My last name isn’t Booth.”
“You changed it?”
