An encounter at the post office

"What's your secret?"

That's what the little Hawaiian lady asked me at the post office. I looked at her blankly.

"What?"

"What's your secret?"

I looked at her closely, trying to figure out what she could possibly be talking about. She was about five feet tall, with a short fringe of wispy mouse-colored hair and a face like a freckled walnut. She took on a jaunty stance, leaning on one elbow at the table where I was sorting through my mail. Her flowered red muumuu was a splash of color in the drab post office lobby.

"You have such calm eyes. You must get a lot of rest at night."

"Um...sometimes." I thought about my eyes. They definitely did not feel calm or rested.

And that's how it started. For the next 30 minutes, the old Hawaiian lady (for lack of a name, I will call her Auntie) wove a fantastic tale, in chapter after chapter, while I stood there, completely at a loss as to how to extricate myself.

"Can science explain what I have seen, three times in my life? The first time when I was eight years old. I was in bed and I saw a milky white shape, with arms that beckoned to me. I was so afraid, but I couldn't speak. Then the legs disappeared. Then the hips disappeared. Then the chest. Then all that was left was the head, a white ball, that floated up to the ceiling where there were many other white balls, floating around. And then they were gone.

"...and then..." These were the words that I learned would signal the start of the next chapter.

"And then...the next time I was a teenager. I was in the kitchen with my father, washing the dishes. I looked out the window and I saw a white shape and it was beckoning to me. I told my father to quick come and look, but then it was gone.

"And then...the next time, was just after I was married. We didn't have indoor plumbing then. I got up to go outside to the outhouse and I saw a white shape, beckoning. I was so scared. I ran back inside and my husband said, 'Why are you afraid? You've been going outside by yourself for months!'

"And then...after that, I was never afraid of anything again. Because I knew there was something else out there."

I don't remember what I said at this point. I shuffled my mail. People came and went.

"I've been in 18 car accidents," she added.

"I was driving from Lahaina one day and a devil wind blew down the mountain, just as I was about to drive into the tunnel. It lifted my car right off the road...one...two...three times it lifted me up. On the last time, my car slammed back down and the police came. I heard them talking...'is she okay?' I thought, 'Why are they saying that? Can't they see I'm alive?' Then two nuns came to my car. They said, 'It's a miracle!' I thought, 'What is the miracle?' And then I saw my car. The windshield was smashed. The front and back were pushed in like an accordian. I went to the hospital and I was unconscious for three days. When I woke up, someone showed me a picture of myself that was taken right after the accident. My face was black. My neck was black. My hands were black. I looked like a corpse."

I wondered if I was going to hear about the other 17 car accidents and I started to get worried. I took Auntie by the elbow and walked towards the door.

"Those are amazing stories," I told her.

She nodded. "My son told me I should write a book. But who would read it?"

"I would," I said.

She smiled and waved and got into her car. It was an SUV. She couldn't possibly have been tall enough to see over the steering wheel. It would have taken a miracle.