The Color Red

"Do you want to look down the hole?" I stared at the young girl, who appeared to be around six years of age. She wore leggings and and a short dress with a sort of tutu, reminding me of a ballerina. Her small hand gestured toward the object of her fascination."What is down the hole?" I asked her. "Oh, you can see red." She tucked her long brown hair behind her ears, a shy smile playing across her face. I had no intention of kneeling down on the floor of the cafe and peer through the three inch hole. "I like your dress," I told her. "Thank you," she said. "I like your hat," she said to my husband. This polite exchange continued for a few minutes. She took one more peek through the hole and went back to her table. Inhaling a deep breath, the smell of fresh brewed coffee filling my nose, I glanced at the area that had captured her attention. We finished our beverages and left the cafe, my mind trapped by the mystery down below the restaurant. I am not an adventurous person, some have called me prudent. I don't like that word. It reminds me of a boring person who never buys expensive shoes and eats Spam to save money. The next week we returned to the same cafe and took a table next to the cryptic hole. Sipping my coffee I watched as a few young children took turns exploring the unknown down below. After their parents tore them away, I slid my chair back and knelt down on the old wood floor and took a glimpse. Disappointed at seeing nothing more than concrete and pipes, I stepped back to my table feeling let down. Where was the color red the little girl spoke about? Did she imagine a crimson kite or a maroon bouncing ball? Or a package wrapped with curly bright red ribbon? Maybe she saw a kaleidoscope of colors and only carried red to the surface. Later that day, I recalled a recent article in the newspaper that had described the decor of the restaurant and the hole was mentioned as an unseemly sight. I don't think children read the newspapers.