At the Gate, through the Gate (Allen)
The monastery gate affected rust, but this was an optical illusion. By exposing coat after coat of red-dirt primer, the resulting bumps and crevices simulated aging. This had the advantage of appearing decrepit to casual passersby, the grounds uninviting in their assumed impoverishment. Mike the UPS driver tapped one foot until finally a young monk cheerfully swung open the right panel of the gate. Mike carried a shoebox sized package wrapped in brown paper. Young Monk: I’ll take that. [He holds both hands out, palms up and slightly cupped as if it to receive it in sacrament.] Mike: Can’t. Instructions are it has to be hand-delivered to some guy named Dogen. Young Monk: I’m new here. I don’t know any Dogen. Let me find someone who does. Wait here. * * * Tenzo: You have a package for Dogen? Mike: Yes. Tenzo: I’ll take it. It’s probably his favorite dried apricots. He says the fresh ones are too sweet. They need air to ripen. Mike: Like I told the other g...
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