North Only Jokes, South Only Smiles, East and West Are Late

Once a month they gather.

Call it a tea party if you will.

Once a month, West meets with East, and South meets with North, and the four of them get together to chat with one another, play cards over tea in big mugs, because those are the best mugs to hold on to.

Fall is about her work, dancing and changing the colors of the leaves, preparing the world for her sister Winter, and this leaves North, South, West and East in need of warmer clothing. North arrives at a small clearing, with a carpet of red leaves and a gentle, warm wind with the slightest hint of chill rolls around, forever moving the crimson, gold, copper, brass, orange and yellow carpet. There in the middle of this clearing sits a stump, with four wrought iron chairs with what must be the plushest looking seats one could hope for. It has been a while since East, West, South and North have gotten together for tea, and rest assured there is much to catch up on, and they will be doing much sitting down. As I was saying though. North arrives, his hair black, with faint hues of blue, much like one might find in a ravens feather, tussled and unkempt, a losing battle with the wind he often puts up with. Around his neck a warm, knitted grey scarf, an open blue P-Coat with the jersey of his favourite rugby team underneath. His trousers bunch at the bottom near his untied shoes and he kicks at the leaves on the ground as he makes his way to the chair of his choice. He sits in West's spot today, you know, for a change of pace. One of his feet bounces in place and his fingers move to a tune that only he seems to know, or perhaps only he can hear, either way, the world around him is one giant orchestra, constantly providing him with music. The sound of humming in the distance, perhaps there was at least one more person who could hear the music.

From up over the hill, making her way towards the stump and three unoccupied chairs, came South. She was a polar opposite to North, in a more literal sense, in reality, the two often got along quite well and were able to laugh with one another rather easily despite their differences. While North, a bit on the rough side, not to say that he was an ugly chap, but perhaps a little on the disorganized side, South was the definition of together, though she might scold you if you ever told her that. The truth was, everything about her had it's place and was intentional. A great word I think, intentional. Something perhaps we could all use a bit more, and luckily for North, his friends would see that he got just that, even if it was just the tiniest smidgen. She wore a hat, knitted of course, over top of light brown hair that was just past shoulder length, a hat that was worn just so, in such a way that no other could emulate and nor do I ask them to try. A knitted sweater, knitted I should tell you, not store bought, because everyone is wearing those and it just wouldn't mean as much if it wasn't home made, even if she was not the one who knitted it. The sleeves of a white shirt move past the sleeves of her sweater and drape over her hands just past the knuckles. She hums along in her jeans and hiking shoes to complete the ensemble and still add a hint of class that most people could only dream of. She takes a seat in North's regular chair.

"You think you can handle that seat?"

A smile, a head tilt, and a look in her eyes that suggested there were words coming but they got bunched up at the end of her tongue and never made their way out of her mouth. North smiles now.

"I mean it is great to see you again South."

"You to, North. East and West are late again eh?"

"What do you expect? What with the sun rising and setting on them all day long it has got to be more than a little confusing."

A squint in her eye, mouth open and a breath caught in an uncertain smile. Clearly South doesn't entirely agree with North's assessment, but is willing to laugh anyway, you know, for his sake.

"One can only imagine what that must be like. What kind of tea have you brought today North?"

North removes a small baggy from his pocket. Of course it would just be so like North to keep his tea bags inside of sandwich wrap. The very image was North to the core. Why go through the hassle of putting the tea in a proper case when he could use one of the many sandwich wrap bags that come in those wonderful over sized bundles. The kind that come in packs of 200 and never seem to leave your cling wrap drawer because you never end up packing a sandwich. South lets out a small giggle, and covers her mouth with her hands just a little bit. Which doesn't really matter because her eyes tend express themselves as much as her mouth might.

"Glad this amuses you. Today, we have Scottish Blend, straight from the exotic and far away place of your nearest Tesco's shop, or Ex Pat Store, or whatever else specializes in tea that most tea aficionados would not consider a specialty. To which I say, and with all kindness and respect, get a life."

"Hmmm, I can hardly wait."

Eyes and mouth smile in unison. North, is not oblivious to the sarcasm, nor is he oblivious to the genuine nature of South's response. Truth be told, she will support any good thing that makes a person feel great. An odd statement, but if you knew South, you would get it. A slight rustle in the leaves, and West has sashayed his way to the tea party. Hair tightly cropped, dusty blonde, sitting on top of sturdy shoulders, a black jacket with a black t-shirt to match, jeans that have been hemmed to mathematical perfection, a pair of black all purpose dress shoes, all of these things are home to the intellect and Renaissance tastes of dear, dear West. Everything he does is done with purpose!

"Good day people! How are you doing?"

Hands on knees, leaning forward in his seat, of course after the briefest moment of lounging, staring intently at his friends North and South. You will never meet a person more straight forward, more comfortable with themselves, and more ready to abandon the bland for the exotic. The perfect friend. Out from a side bag comes a French press, a small tin of green macha powder, and a tin of loose rooibos tea leaves. West, is a tea aficionado.

"South, did you bring any lemons? I was going to pick some up along the way but wasn't sure if I needed to or not."

North smiles, there is a reason why he was bypassed in that particular question, and it was bunched up in a sandwich bag on the stump where the tea party seemed to already be growing.

"Sorry West, didn't occur to me to bring any with me."

"Well, if you both must know..."

North pulls a lemon from his pocket, as well as some honey; and a couple packets of sugar he nicked from a fast food joint, for himself.

"Ah! Most excellent!"

"Look at you! All prepared!"

"We had this talk the last time we met, and heaven help us all if I am going to fit into that mold again."

"Did North bring the lemon? He has been telling me for months he was going to, supposed to be a big shocker to you two."

East has sat down at the table.

East is has brown skin, made a tad darker from her time in the sun, and wavy chocolate hair with eyes that some might call green, if they so wished to use such simple nomenclature. Green was certainly present in those eyes, but so were a healthy array of many other colors. She was dressed in a dark pink sweater, complete with khaki shorts that went just past her knees, with tennis shoes. She had ridden her bike and laid it down to rest near her seat, in South's seat. East un-slung a backpack from her shoulders and took out some tea biscuits and a kettle. That backpack said it all, East was busy, always on the go and seeing new things, the four of them were lucky to ever have moments like this, but they relished them none the less. East placed the kettle down in the center of the stump and almost at the same time, everyone sank a little bit more into their seats.

"North...that baggy of tea looks like a bag of drugs."

Everyone laughed, and it was no doubt something that was on everyone's mind. Even North had to laugh.

"Your telling me. This was a gift from Rain. Old man Time had a double take when he was visiting me not to long ago."

"How is Rain?"

"She is doing well West, sent me a post card of a dude in a canoe, thought it seemed appropriate. I have it sitting on the mantle."

"If by mantle you mean that stack of comics and video games you call a desk."

"Funny South, your on fire today."

"South, do you want to try this rooibos with some macha?"

South clenches her teeth together and lets an inward hiss pull between her teeth.

"Sorry West, North wanted to treat me to his tea."

"Well, you don't have to. I mean if you want a fancier tea you can have it."

South smiles and declines her escape. This is the part that would be all the more easy to understand if you knew South.

"I wouldn't mind trying some of that rooibos West, though I may skip on the macha and opt for lemon and honey instead."

"Did anyone bring milk? I'll not be having my Scottish Blend with out it."

"It's never stopped you before."

"I was wrong before."

A long pause.

"Only counts when I admit to being wrong, nobody else can accuse me of it."

A few smiles break and the kettle whistles during all of the preparation. Steaming hot water is passed around from giant mug to giant mug. North's is actually a ceramic beer glass but figures he can use it anyway. East pulls a pack of playing cards out from her backpack, Dutch Blitz.

"I love this game."

"I could never figure out why they called it Dutch Blitz though."

"Mennonites used them in substitute of actual playing cards."

"And it is called Dutch Blitz because? Why not call it Mennonite Madness or something."

"You can call it whatever you like North."

Everyone at the table shuffles their cards like pros, everyone but North. Long has his inability to shuffle cards with any real aptitude been the joke of his circle of friends. Even as the game play starts, his handling is clumsy, and his play is slow. Dutch Blitz, for North at least, this is not. The way North plays is more of a Dutch Gentle Saunter, or perhaps a Mennonite Sit and Ponder. His frustration is then transfered into the audio when he grunts, or growls at every missed chance, which South wastes not time in poking fun at.

"You sound like an angry pterodactyl!"

"I do?"

"It's cute."

"If by cute you mean rugged and manly, then yes, I suppose it is."

That tilt of the head again, humorous acceptance of the fact. North is stubborn, and perhaps a bit shy.

"Blitz"

North brings his arm down in a sweeping motion and points at West with a slight snap in his wrist.

"Nope."

The table laughs again as North smiles and begins to count the cards left in his pile verses the cards he managed to actually play.

"Well, I am off to a roaring start, 2 points."

"Did you count the cards against you as double?"

"...I thought we didn't keep count."

"Then why are you?"

"Because."

And that settled the matter. Besides, it is a well known fact that even if you are not keeping score, you must tally your points anyway. Especially around North.

"Well...since we aren't keeping score...I suppose that puts me in the lead then."

"Really? I got 21 points that round."

North raised his eyes at South.

"Well known fact. Even when one isn't keeping score you need to tally your points regardless."

Told you.

And so the meeting continued onward. It could have been a few minutes longer, or a few hours, or days even. But the four friends continued to sit around the table, sipping their tea, sharing their jokes and playing their card game. That was until West became restless and decided he needed to go and do something, as is usually the case for West. And then East had some place to be, urgently and was on her way. And South decided that she had brought herself down enough that she would head back home and take it easy before once again returning to her busy schedule. And North was left alone with his thoughts before he finally went back home, sat in a chair and decided to write a story about the nights events.