Jack and Vicky: meeting under a tree and getting some coffee 

Vicky sat in the shade of a broad-leafed tree reading a book. She had her jacket spread out under her to sit on, a takeout coffee cup and empty fry container indicated she had been there for at least the length of a meal. Her dull green canvas bag was slumped beside her, the bulky shape giving no indication of how full or empty it might be. Based on the other books spread around her, there was a chance it had been quite full when she arrived. 

After some time reading one book she would mark the page – or take note of it by looking at the page corner and murmuring the number to herself – then pick up another book from the ones scattered around her. Then she would flip to a pre-marked page in that book, or maybe use the table of contents or index to find a specific part of the book, or sometimes she seemed to know exactly where she was going. In this way she went through the different books around her, picking them up and putting them down, much like someone making a puzzle; but the pieces were the information she was finding, and the picture being assembled was in her mind. 

Sitting under the tree, on the campus grounds, she blended – she was attractive enough, but not significantly so to stand out from the steady flow of twenty-somethings who knew how to capitalize on youth with beauty. But eventually, she caught the attention of a shaggy haired young man, wearing the requisite sweater vest with sloppy jeans, and he made his way over to greet her. 

She adjusted her glasses as she looked up with a smile. “Hey, there you are. I was starting to think I might have to go looking for you.” 

“Really?” He took off his own canvas bag, grey, and settled down on the ground beside her. “When did you get in?” 

“Couple days,” she shrugged, “I think it helped that I knew where I was going.” 

He looked at the books scattered around her, taking in the titles and florescent array of sticky page markers decorating the edges. “You didn’t waste any time.” 

“Nope,” she grinned at him. “You’re going to have some real catching up to do.” 

He smiled back and they looked over the campus together, watching the students coming and going with books and coffees and rolling briefcases and donuts and sloppy pizza slices and the occasional musical instrument. There was something so free, but also so productive about the place. People after learning for the sake of it, because they wanted to and because they could; or maybe just after a life experience – but that was a kind of learning too. 

“What do you want to start with?” she asked, trading her reading glasses for sunglasses in anticipation of leaving the shade of the tree. 

“I think, to start, I would love a coffee.” He said it as if the idea had just occurred to him but sounded really good once he said it out loud. 

Her smile widened. “I heartily agree.” 

He helped her tidy up the books and offered to put half in his own bag, which she accepted. She grabbed the empty coffee cup and fry container to throw in the garbage. 

“By the way, I’m Vicky,” she said, proffering her free hand. 

“Jack,” he said, accepting the shake with a crooked grin. “And I’m looking forward to working with you.”