stone in the soup

It's late when I pull into this town. the square is lively as my car sputters stop feet away from vision.

its a party. the people of the town running around and around and around, with carrots potatoes tomatoes everything the town has

thrown in a pot in the center, serving and eating in circles around each other. 

it's like a scene from a book that'll be interrupted when I step out of the car

so I sit and watch as they dance with their bowls still in their hands

soup sloshing a bit as one man with a cane stirs the big pot and smiles as the townspeople move and mash to the beat they made up

someone will bring out a song soon, I can tell even from the muffled joy I absorb from inside my car

I want to step outside, into this lively fray. Feel the joy of whatever this moment is, taste the soup they find so much of this joy in, so much something that made them like this

become one with the night that is these people's whole lives to me

I might ruin it. so I stay. silent and quiet.

the man with the cane looks over anyway, catches my car in his sights.

He raises a hand, stands up, and shuffles over. No one notices. Someone else stirs the pot in his stead.

the crowd presses closer to each other, leaving me and the man on the outside of their inner circle, their inner intimacy we don't get to be privy to. 

He knocks on my window.

"Hello," he says. There's a bag over his shoulder. His shoes are well worn. He's younger than the firelight under the pot made him look. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," I whisper. Maybe I was going to ask for a hotel recommendation. A place to stay. A night to sleep. I don't remember anymore with his bright, kind eyes staring at me, illuminated from behind by the revelers. the light almost forms a halo around him.

I can't stop staring. 

"Mind if I catch a ride?"

I open the door. We drive off. 

Its silent. We don't exchange names. I don't look at him more than I have to, but I want to. God, do I want to.

Instead I say "what happened to make all those people so happy? They looked," a pause. I don't know the word.

"Loved?" the man asks. he seems to know everything.

"Yes."

"Mm. They were. They just didn't know it until today."

"How'd they find out?"

The man smiles. "I gave them a stone."

"A stone."

"Yes. And they made soup from it. What a miracle, huh?"

I nod. He nods. The night yawns before us. 

"Guess with that many people love can do anything, yeah? Miracles and that." 

He nods again. "Yes. Miracles and that."

The silence the stranger and I leave between us stays till the sun rises. It is the most comfortable I've ever felt. 
Before he leaves, I ask him to give me a stone.