PIZZA JOY | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: PIZZA JOY | Previous Challenge Entry
By Stefanie Noonan
05/23/06
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It had been three years since I visited the pizza chain. It was my nephew's seventh birthday and I came out of duty and not by choice. Clinking tokens in sweaty palms and the squeals of children's laughter penetrated my ears and dug a dagger into my heart serving as a cunning reminder that I had not tasted the joy of motherhood.

Following the miscarriages came a fleet of home pregnancy tests that patronized our hopes as one by one were laid to rest in the trash.

I could not stand the joy the pizza place represented for families nor could I keep up the pretence. I made a silent vow to not return until I could bring a child of my own.

But today, I could not resist the urge to pull into the parking lot if only to remind myself of the dream.

"Why Lord? I've served you all my life. Just tell me what I've done!" I screamed, shook, wept in the safety of my car. Any trace of hope or joy leaked from my soul as rage lunged.

"I trusted you Lord!" Hardness harnessed my throbbing heart. My trembling legs lifted me across the parking lot to the double doors.

I pulled. The doors wouldn't budge. A bushy bearded man with a limp approached as his bus pulled away.

"I think it's stuck." I said.

In a voice more cartoon-like than human, he responded with a cheesy grin. "Push, not pull."

Sure enough, a sign hung in bold print above the door: PUSH TO ENTER.

"That alright Meese. I sumtimz do that." He said.

We entered the crowded room. "You okay Meese?" He gazed into my puffy eyes.

"I'm fine." I lied.

"That's good!" He patted my back before flapping his arms to acknowledge a large group across the room.

"Next?" Asked the unenthusiastic clerk.

"CHEESY PEEZA!" The stout woman stepped in front of me smashing my toe.

"Size?" The clerk hadn't noticed.

"HOOGE! The handicapped woman's eyes sparkled. She rubbed her stomach and turned to me. "You want share cheezy peeza?"

"I'm not hungry. Thank you."

"Me hungee!" She chanted.

"Next?" The clerk droned.

"Beer please."

"Glass or pitcher?"

If she could tell I had never ordered beer before, I didn't care. I didn't even care what God thought of me at the moment.

The clerk thrust me a pitcher of root beer.

"I meant real beer." I confessed sheepishly hoping no one overheard.

"Alcohol is served after five!" She quipped loudly.

I sat by the fire hoping its warmth would steal the chill that iced my bones. The bearded man pulled tables together for the growing crowd of others like himself. The cheesy pizza lady sat among the ranks. The volume of their laughter escalated and filled the room as each talked over another. I drank in the commotion.

"We can do further testing..." I recalled my doctor's words from my morning appointment. "To be certain if it's a Down Syndrome baby and then you can choose...."

DO FURTHER TESTING AND CHOOSE WHAT? I knew what my doctor meant went against everything I believed.

I sipped my root beer as a stream of mentally challenged people continued through the door.

"Hullo." Grinned the gray haired man.

"Hello." I replied.

Two ladies from the buzzing table waved as they slipped past me to the salad bar.

There seemed an unspoken open invitation at their table. I could not remember feeling such warmth from total strangers. Strangers who if I had met on the street I might have avoided their eyes to prevent them feeling shame. But it was joy and not shame that graced the head of their table. Their joy wafted my weariness away.

"It's a fundraiser." I overheard a woman explain. "Half the proceeds go to the Special Olympics."

"Next!" The clerk was as enthused as an hour ago.

"Do half the proceeds really go to..." The clerk cut me off before I finished my question.

"Yeah. Yeah." She quipped. "Just like the sign says." She slid the laminated sign before my face.

"Give me two pizzas then. No- three." I grinned.

"Toppings?" She clicked her pen impatiently.

"All of them--the works!"

"Size?"

"What's the biggest you got?"

"Small, medium, large, family size." She pointed her pen to the mounted pizza sizing display on the wall.

"FAMILY size? I like the sound of that one."

"Hope you're hungry." She smirked.

"Yes, I am!" Joy escaped my lips. "I'm eating for two!"

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