The old man walked through the back doorway and into the storage room as the boy followed. He flicked the light switch, illuminating the boxes and tubs on metal racks. 

“Organizing.” Said the old man. “I know where everything is, for the most part.” He said eyeballing the metal racks up and down. “But they could be more organized. I will leave it up to you how you would like to do so. Alphabetical or whatever you wish.” 

The boy let out a long breath. There were at least 6 metal racks that stretched from the front of the room to the back. 

Why did he need so much stock when he didn’t have any customers?

“I will be in the front if you need me.” Said the old man as he disappeared through the doorway. 

The boy decided to see what was in each box, and try to organize based on the sections of the shop that he cleaned the other day. 

He designated a rack for books, another for crystals and stones, another for incense and reiki bowls, another for statues and so on.

He began lugging down boxes and stacking them accordingly, clearing off the first rack he decided to wipe it down before stacking the boxes on top. 

He looked in a box full of books and started reading the titles. He realized he might be able to utilize the space better if he started unpacking the boxes. He took out the books, and began to organize them in alphabetical order on the first rack.

He figured when he got done with the storage room, he would go to the bookshelf in the store front and do the same thing. He did this for each rack, unboxing the contents and placing them on the racks. He put crystals and stones in order by color, since he didn’t know the names of each one.

He put the statues in order according to size and type, Buddha statues with the Buddha statues, Egyptian statues with the Egyptian statues,so on and so forth. All that was left were the tubs of mushrooms. 

Even though he had seen weed and even cocaine in the old man’s shoebox on his first day at the shop, all he seemed to find in the tubs were mushrooms of all different types. He figured these would be left best inside the tubs and boxes, and began to pile each strain into its own box, storing them on the last rack at the very back of the storage room. 

“Woah.”

The boy jumped at the sound of the old man’s voice, almost forgetting that there was someone else in the shop with him, having gotten lost in his work.

“I must say I would have never thought to do this.” Said the old man, “I’m impressed. Here.” He gave the boy $20, “Go get us some lunch.”

There was no clock in the storage room, he took out his phone and realized he had been working non stop for almost 4 hours, and it was now the afternoon.

“I’ll take a vegetarian sandwich from the deli and a water.” Said the old man with a grin. 

When the boy got to the deli, for some reason, none of the deli meat looked appealing to him. In fact, it almost made him sick to his stomach when he thought about actually eating it. He ended up ordering the same thing as the old man, surprisingly, the total came out to exactly $20.

The boy felt like he had a better understanding of the shop now. What things were, where they were, but not why or how they were used. He did know that each thing had its purpose. Incense, he had found, was good for creating a mood, and statues were very pleasing to the eye. 

He felt that the shimmering crystals and geodes gave off some sort of energy, as well as the various stones on display in the middle of the shop. But he didn’t know what each one was called yet or what they were used for specifically.

“Give it time.” The old man said as the boy vented his frustrations to him over lunch. “Infinite knowledge does not become yours in split seconds. You may have experienced something powerful, but these moments are but flickers to a flame.”

The boy listened to the old man as he ate his sandwich, which surprisingly he was really enjoying.

“These books are all at your disposal but it’s impossible to read them all at the same time and retain the words therein. Learn to have patience, not just with others, but firstly with your own self.” 

The boy nodded, mulling it all over as he finished his lunch by taking a big gulp from his water bottle. It actually wasn’t bad at all, and left him with a very satisfying feeling. 

“Why are you a vegetarian?” The boy asked. 

“Because I am Rasta.” Said the old man, “Rasta man we believe in only natural things. Clean mind clean body. You call it organic, but we call it Ital, and ital is vital.” With this he smiled a very wide and honest grin.

“The plants and fungi are living beings, and living man needs living things to fuel the cells in his body. By eating dead meat, we are eating death and not life. Although, I do enjoy a freshly caught fish every now and then. But no shellfish like crab and lobster, these are bottom feeders and basically insects in water. It is very hard to find natural, organic product here, not like Jamaica. But that deli owner I talk to, he uses fresh local grown vegetables in his sandwiches. That is why I do not mind eating from him, as I know the source of the nourishment he provides. Rowan owns a farm outside of town that grows everything he sells.”

The boy’s head jerked back as he looked at the old man in a fine realization.

“You will find,” Continued the old man, “The more your journey of life progresses, that God will place things before you not only to test your resolve, but to allow you to follow the path that is naturally yours. Rasta is what I am but not who I am, just as what you are can change at any time, but who you are will always remain the same. Certain parts of you you may grow or be cut off if you feel it is hindering your growth, just like when you grow a plant, but who you are will always be and always has been.” 

The boy felt this very deeply. “Thank you.” He said.

“You’re quite welcome young man.” Said the old man. “You will come to find your way. Rasta may be my path, but it may not be yours. Just because one does not walk the same roads you do, do not make the mistake of assuming they are lost.” 

With that, he chugged the last bit of his water, letting out a big satisfying sigh. 

“I am going to the back to make some tea, would you like a cup?”

The boy nodded, “Yes, please.”

The boy decided he would learn more about not just Rastafari, but every religion he could find until he found his own way, his own truth. And that it would take time. 

He smiled at the thought. 

“You have four hours left.” Said the old man snapping the boy out of his mind. “Man the front. Pick an incense. Light it with respect. Then feel free to read your book and wait for any customers. I’ll be back.”

With that, the old man vanished again beyond the doorway. The boy looked around and found a bundle of incense sticks in a baggie behind the counter, underneath the incense holder. He didn’t know which one to light, so he closed his eyes and chose one at random.

He placed the stick into the dragon shaped incense holder, but didn’t know what the old man meant by light it with respect. The boy put his hands together, placed them on his forehead, closed his eyes, and bowed.

“Namaste.” He said.

He opened his eyes and lit the stick with a lighter he had in his pocket, and then blew out the flame.

Next Chapter: Ego