The Secret Drawer

The Secret Drawer by Gary Walker That which is not known or meant to be known or seen by others, we call 'secret.' Knowing that there is a secret somewhere, titillates and excites our curiosity and voyeuristic inclinations to the point of having to know. There is a place in North San Diego County that has a secret; and it's been a secret for a long time, that is, until now. It's a well established, small but charming family owned and operated Italian restaurant simply called Joe's Italian. And no, this is not yet another restaurant review. Social media is awash in them. They're a dime a dozen. No, this is a very different kind of story, so please read on. As you may have guessed, Joe is the owner. What some people don't know however, is that Joe is also the Chef and he's been cooking deliciously fresh, classic/authentic, home style Italian cuisine in his kitchen for over...thirty eight years! Yes, you read that right; 38 years in the same kitchen! Joe's a Master Chef in his own right! And his lovely daughters wait on their patrons. I've had many delicious meals there over the years. You walk in and right away you feel like you're instantly transported to another place and time. The ambience is casual and inviting, the lighting is soft and low with candlelight glowing from the booths lining both sides of the long, rectangular room. On the walls and ceilings are fun and interesting bric-a-brac: old world pictures, charming rusticated mirrors, and glass ware, etc. The tables are set with paper place mats with a large picture of Italy on it. You know, the one's with lots of interesting information about the country and images of the Coliseum, Leaning Tower of Pisa, etc. The overall ambience is inviting, unpretentious and fun. Nestled in it's own cozy and private place up front near the large picture window looking out to the candle lit cabaret tables on the sidewalk, is my favorite booth. Some time ago I discovered this booth had a small, inconspicuous dark colored drawer just beneath an old decorative mirror on the wall. The first time I opened it many years ago I noticed it was packed with lots of small, tightly folded notes. The drawer was maybe twenty inches long but only a few inches deep, so I was careful not to let it fall out of the wall, which it seemed to want to automatically do on it's own. Before putting the drawer back into it's slot, I read some of the notes. Most were written on randomly torn portions of the paper place mats and were sweet and to the point while others were...dramatic. All, however, were touching because they were 'real,' and written from the heart. Flash forward to December 2017. I was having one of my favorite meals there, Joe's wonderful Eggplant Parmesan with a glass of red wine. Well, actually I had a couple of glasses of red wine before the meal came. The place was packed and the convivial banter of patrons filled the air with a familial atmosphere. So I went to open 'the drawer,' but this time, I fumbled and slipped (I think it was the wine!), and it came flying out of the wall, crashing down on the glass table, making a room shattering loud thud that was immediately followed by dead silence in the room as people looked around to see what had happened! It seemed like 30 seconds, but more likely 5 seconds, and just as quickly as the room got silent, the cacophony of revelry rapidly resumed, as if nothing had ever happened. Kind of surreal! I was, however, shocked at what I saw. This relatively small drawer had completely disgorged all it's angelic content. Like fairy dust sprinkled everywhere, my table was littered with a colorful blanket of countless notes that all seemed to, - accordion like, - instantly spring to life, mysteriously multiplying before my surprised eyes. It was kind of like seeing one of those classic Volkswagen commercials where an endless stream of people keep coming out of the small car. I simply couldn't believe how many notes came out of that small drawer! It was at this point that Angelina, Joe's daughter came over to investigate. With a fun smile she said: "I see you found The Drawer! Don't worry. You're not the first to spill it." I could hear her softly chuckling as she walked away. Wanting to take in and savor this unique experience before cleaning up my mess and hastily stuffing all those notes back into that small sliver of a drawer, I had a flash of an idea: a spark of inspiration. I hailed Angelina back over and asked: What do you think if I ask Joe about my idea to make a book out of these notes? She smiled in approbation and encouraged me to talk with him. Right after this a young woman (twenty something?), and what appeared to be her father, walked by my table and witnessed all the commotion as they were about to leave. Somewhat embarrassed, I told them what had just happened. The woman (Laura),was very interested in the story, but the father beckoned her to leave. She asked if she might read a few of the notes. Deeply touched by what she'd read, I encouraged her to write one of her own. So I tore off a section of one of the paper table mats (the one's of Italy), and she did her thing, after which she handed her note to me. I started to put it in the huge pile of notes on the table and she asked, "Aren't you going to read mine?" After telling her I didn't want to intrude on her private thoughts, she encouraged me and so silently I read it in front of her. "NEVER GIVE UP 12/14/17. Cheers to great health and living life in the present. A negative PET scan and ravioli pasta and we are good to go (she put a symbol of a Heart here). This is Real...Thank you Joe, signed Steve and Laura." Deeply touched by her sweet openness, I looked up at her and thanked her for her for writing such a beautiful note at which point they left, but not until after I found out where she worked (more on that later). So I walked back to the small kitchen where Joe was working his time honored magic by custom cooking each and every meal to order. Now Joe is a pleasant looking, trustworthy mature man with silver hair, medium height and build, wearing his usual white outfit including tomato and Olive Oil stained white apron. "Joe," I said, "May I ask you a question?" "Yes," he replied, his friendly Italian accent still noticeable after all these years. And so I told him what had just happened with 'the drawer,' and how all the notes had spilled onto my table, the seats and onto the floor. I told him about my idea to make a 'book' about this drawer and it's contents. Well, Joe instantly thought it was such a great idea that he gave me a big hug and said he'd have Angelina put 'all' the notes in a bag for me to take home. 'All' the notes, I thought! Hmmm. Had I missed something in my excitement? Turns out, unbeknownst to me, there was a second 'drawer' in another booth near the back of the restaurant! When I asked Joe how long the drawers had been there, he told me ten years. I asked: In all those years has any person ever asked you if they could make a book out of all the notes? "You're the first and only person that has had this idea, Gary, and I like it!" With that, I went back to my table, enjoyed my meal, all the while excitedly thinking about how to approach this fun new project of turning a bag full of heart felt personal notes into a small book befitting the sincerity, love, grace, faith and hope expressed by all the writers. Once home, I immediately dumped the contents of the large bag of notes on the floor, spread them all out, and took several photos of them. There were so many notes (well over two hundred!), they covered a 12 x12 foot area (144 square feet!). Mixed in among the notes, I found some coins, paper currency, a pair of women's ear rings still hooked on the placard from the store, a band aid (symbolism not lost as I guess every relationship needs one of these once in a while), a shell, a packet of sugar and even a pendant bearing the image of Pope (Papa) Francis! All these tender notes with all their pathos and sentiment made me feel I was walking on hallowed ground. Since there were so very many notes, far too many to include in a small book, my first task was to sort them. One pile for the 'regular' notes (great restaurant, great times, good friends, etc.); the other pile for what I felt were the ones where people most deeply expressed their thoughts and feelings. This cut the huge pile immediately in half. I then went through the 'keeper notes' several times, reading each note separately and began noticing themes.

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