the scent of the river

when it gets hoppin' hot at sacred chow, both in the kitchen and during service, my body starts 2 steam, it emanates w intense heat. i become parched, as if i am an ancient hebrew traveling through the sinai 4 40 days and 40 nights in search of the promised land. i see myself as if in a mirage, dragging my body through the hot sands, craving water, croaking like a frog, rather than speaking. w a dry throat and a heavy mexican accent, i stretch the words out and roll my tongue on the r's: "aaaaqua, aaaaqua, poooorrrrr faaaavorrrrr, aaaaqua!" i am crawling, alone, no one hears my plea, " aaaaqua, aaaaqua, pooorrrrr faaaavorrrrr, aaaaqua!" i laugh at the sound of my toad-like voice, but since i love how it sounds, i continue 2 say it loudly so everyone can hear. once there is a lull, i walk over 2 the sink, turn the water on full force and cup my hands under the faucet until it gets freezing cold. i splash my face, and drink in the water as if it is from a river from the far reaches of alaska. a memory always takes hold: i smell the scent of the river, its water, and the water from a fierce rainstorm. i am in 7th grade, a summer nor'easter has struck our small town, and the saddle river has overflowed. my friends and i run to get our inner tubes, as my brother and his friends had b-4 us, we drop the inner-tubes, and ourselves, into the swift moving saddle river. we speed like crazy down the river, twirling and spinning, almost out of control, but not quite. such a beautiful feeling of friendship and laughter. all around is the smell of water, drooping greenery, peace and vibrant fun. i am at the hand sink in the basement kitchen of sacred chow in nyc, but i am also in the sinai desert, in mexico, in alaska and traveling down the saddle river in upper saddle river, n.j..