Tag Archives: New York City

THE GIFT OF TIME

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It’s an unbearably hot and humid day. One of those days when you feel sweat beading on your forehead and dripping down your armpits.  I roll down the front and back windows of my 1970 Volkswagen Beetle. Well, it’s new to me, but it’s four years old. I‘m heading to the Greyhound Bus Terminal in Mt. Laurel, NJ. This is my first trip out of state by myself.

Trip to NYC

Trip to NYC

At first, I considered driving alone to New York City, but I chickened out. At the last moment, I decide to take the Greyhound bus and leave my car at their parking lot. It will take about six and a half hours by bus because of all the stops along the route to pick up passengers.

But I don’t mind. I’m bringing a book with me to occupy my time during the long ride. It’s called Carrie by Stephen King. Right now, he’s one of my favorite authors. And it is scary as hell. Sometimes, I’m afraid to close my eyes at night because this book gives me nightmares. But I can’t stop reading it. Sometimes I read it long into the night well past when I should go to sleep.

Besides, it’s rumored that the new buses have air conditioning. Can you imagine air conditioning? Believe it or not, I’ve never been in an airconditioned bus or car, for that matter.

I see the Greyhound Bus Depot is just ahead on my right, so I hit my turn signal and make the turn into the parking lot. There are about twenty cars parked in the lot. I find a spot at the end of the lot and park my car. I have to admit I’m a little nervous about leaving my car in the lot overnight. This is my first new car, and I love it like it’s my first-born child.

I would be devastated if anything happened to it. I haven’t let anyone else drive it. Or even sit in the driver’s seat. I turn off the engine and head towards the front of the car to get my suitcase. Did you know the trunk is in the front of a Volkswagen Bug?

I found an old overnight bag in the attic of my parent’s house. It’s blue and is covered in faded stickers all over it from whomever it belonged to fifty years ago. I cleaned it inside and out. Nobody is going to see it anyway since they will stow it in the storage area under the bus or on a rack on the bus.

I wasn’t sure what kind of clothes to bring with me. I finally decided to wear a summer top and shorts and bring one sleeveless dress because, as I said, it is hot as hell in New Jersey. And I don’t expect it to be any better in New York State.

I get out of my car and pop the hood and grab my suitcase. And give my car one last look. I consider kissing it goodbye but stop myself at the last minute. Instead, I lean over and whisper I love you; I’ll be back before you know it. I stash my keys in my purse. I open the door to the bus depot and turn and look back at my car one last time. I almost start crying but manage to contain myself. I walk over to the counter and get in line to buy a ticket.

“Can I help you miss?”

“Yes, thanks I would like to buy a two-way ticket to the main Greyhound Bus Depot in New York City, New York, please.”

He hands me the ticket, and I give him the cash. “Go through those double doors when you hear your bus called. The number is on your ticket. You can sit over there in the waiting area.”

“Thank you.”

I head on over to the waiting area. There are about twenty people waiting. Mostly middle age people and a few twenty-somethings, and a mother with two young children. I sit down and wait, shoving my suitcase under my fold-up chair. I look around; it’s not a glamorous place. It’s kind of dirty. It smells like gas fumes. I see a sign for a bathroom and decide to go since I don’t know when the first rest stop will be. I leave my suitcase under my seat. As I’m walking away, an older woman calls out to me.” Miss, miss, you forgot your bag.”

I turn around, and I realize she’s talking to me. I walk back to my seat. She’s sitting behind my chair. “Sorry, I didn’t want someone to steal your bag, dear. You should take it with you.” She looks familiar, somehow. I wonder if she is one of my grandmother’s friends or something.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be alright. I’m just going to go to the bathroom for a couple of minutes. I’ll be right back.”

“Dear, it doesn’t take that long for someone to come along and pick up your bag, and then where will you be?”

I stare at her for a moment and think about what she said. “Oh, your right, of course, I didn’t even think about that. I better take it with me, thanks.” I notice that a man across from me is staring at me. I head over to the ladies’ room.

When I returned to my seat, the woman that talked to me about my bag wasn’t there anymore. I look all around, and I don’t see her. “That’s weird; I wonder where she went?” I say to no one in particular.

I sit down on the metal chair, and it feels kind of sticky. I stand up quickly and move to another seat. I look to my right and left; no one is sitting next to me or behind me. Now, I’m feeling paranoid. I put my bag between my knees. I listen intently to the loudspeaker. I don’t want to miss my bus. Then I realize I don’t know my bus number and look in my purse. I look at my ticket.  I’m supposed to take Bus number 431. It doesn’t leave for another thirty minutes. But I guess they let you start boarding before the departure time.

As I sit there, I listen to the music that’s playing over the loudspeaker. It’s Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon and Garfunkel. I start humming it quietly. I would love to sing it out loud, but experience has taught me not to. Every time I sing out loud, someone always says, “do you mind I’m trying to listen.” So, now the only time I sing is when I’m driving in my car alone. I open up the windows, and I sing as loud as I can. It’s the only time I feel free to be myself. Maybe I’m becoming paranoid.

I start thinking about what it will be like in New York City. Can you believe there are nearly 8,000,000 people living there? The only other big city I’ve ever been to is Philadelphia. I take the public bus there. Some people don’t like cities. But I do, I love the hustle and the bustle, all the different kinds of people who seem to have such important things to do and places to go. There’s a feeling of excitement in the air; it feels almost like electricity. I love the sense of purpose; everyone seems to have.

Philadelphia has live theater and the Art Museum, the Ben Franklin Institute, and the Central Library with its thousands of books. I could spend all day in that library.

Oh, and all the different kinds of restaurants. And, of course, Chinatown it’s the best. I feel like I have been transported to another place, another time. I have walked around there all day. It’s exciting and exotic.

Suddenly I notice the loudspeaker is calling out my bus. “Last call for passengers for bus 431.” I jump up and grab my bag and purse. I practically run through the depot. I scan the room, and I see my bus is two buses down. I run over there as if my life depends upon it. When I get there, I’m out of breath. I run up the steps and trip. I barely catch myself before I land flat on my face. I grab the bar next to the steps.

“Are you alright, dear?”

I look up, and it’s the older woman who told me not to leave my bag. “Yes, thanks. I was daydreaming and almost missed the call for my bus. Thanks.”

I hand my ticket to the bus driver and look around the bus. The only seat left is next to the older woman. “Do you mind if I sit next to you? It doesn’t look like there are any other seats left.”

“Of course not, dear. Sit down. You can stow your bag on the rack or if it’s small enough, under the seat.”

I look at the space under the seat, and it looks like it will fit under there. So, I shove it under and plop down. “Oh, wow, that was close. I will have to pay better attention.”

“You’re doing fine. Is this your first trip on a Greyhound?”

“Yes, it’s my first trip. But I take the PTC bus from my hometown, Maple Shade in New Jersey to Philadelphia all the time. And I take the trolley too, or if it’s nice, I walk all over. I love visiting all the museums.” Oh, do you live near Philadelphia? I hope you don’t think I’m too nosy. It’s just that I have taken this bus many times. And it’s such a long ride. It helps if you pass the time talking to people.”

“No, it’s alright, I don’t mind. I live on the Jersey side of the Delaware River.   I take the bus on my corner. The bus has to go over the Ben Franklin Bridge. I have a fear of bridges. Well, I guess it’s a fear of heights. Anyway, I always close my eyes when the bus gets to the bridge. And then I open my eyes as soon as we get to the other side. The first thing you see as you get off the bridge is the Key and the Kite and the Bolt of electricity Sculpture by Isamu Noguchi. It’s amazing. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to talk your ears off.”

“Oh, you didn’t talk my ears off at all. That’s such an odd expression, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I guess it is. My mother always says that to me.”

“So, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you going to New York City today?”

“Oh, mainly because I always wanted to go there. I’m going there to see the Metropolitan and MOMA. That’s a nickname for the Modern Art Museum. I don’t know if I’ll have time to see both, though. And I want to eat at a little sidewalk café. And walk down Broadway to see all the marquees in front of the Broadway theaters. I’m going to stay overnight and have dinner at Dorrian’s Red Hand. It’s on 2nd and 84th Street. A friend of mine told me about it. It’s been around for almost fifteen years. And it’s affordable. It serves American food.”

“Oh, you do have a heavy schedule. I don’t know if you’ll have time to do all of that. But it will certainly be an exciting adventure for you.”

“Yes, I’ve been planning this trip for a long time. My parents didn’t want me to go alone. But, I’m over eighteen, and they can’t stop me. My mother looked like she would start crying when I left this morning. I said, “I’ll be fine mom I’ll call you when I get there and when I get to my hotel room. I’ll be home late tomorrow afternoon.?

She was wiping away a tear when I went out the front door. But I didn’t let that stop me. I got in my car and drove to the bus depot. And here I am.

“It’s hard for parents to let go of their children. By the way, my name is Elizabeth. What’s yours?”

“Elizabeth? “That’s my name too. Wow, that’s weird. But all my friends call me Beth.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Beth. That’s what my friends called me when I was young too. But when I graduated from high school, I decided that Elizabeth sounded more worldly and sophisticated than Beth. I had to get up early this morning Beth. I hope you don’t mind it or think it’s rude, but I will take a nap. Could you please wake me up at the first rest stop? I know I’ll have to use the lady’s room by then, and I won’t be able to hold out for two more hours.”

“A nap, oh yeah, sure, I guess when you get old, you need more sleep. Yeah, sure, I’ll wake you up. No problem. I guess I’ll read the book that I brought with me. I’m reading Stephen King’s Carrie. Did you ever read it? It’s so scary I’m afraid to fall asleep at night.” Beth looks over at Elizabeth and realizes that she is already fast asleep. Her mouth is hanging open slightly, and she is snoring quietly.

Beth opens her book to the page where she puts her bookmark. Carrie is getting ready to go to the high school dance. Then she goes down to the living room, and her mother gives her hell for dressing like a whore.

The Greyhound bus air conditioning kicks in, and everyone on the bus sigh of relief because it is getting hot as hell in there. Since the bus was packed to the rafters and there wasn’t a single empty seat. There are a couple of little kids in the middle of the bus who are already bored and getting antsy, and their mother is having trouble getting them to sit still. Beth is deep into her book when she is suddenly startled by the mother of the two little kids yelling out at the top of her lungs,” Hey, you get back in your seat and sit down.”

The bus driver looks in his rearview mirror to see what all the commotion is about, and he sees the two kids running up and down the aisle. He calls out, “Everyone must stay seated at all times. Children must be accompanied by their parents. Have a seat immediately.”

At that moment, the mother grabs her two kids and drags them back to their seats. She gives them both a slight smack on their butts. And this quiets them down for the moment. Everyone on the bus now realizes that it will be a long, long ride to New York City. And they all sigh simultaneously.

Elizabeth wakes up momentarily and looks over at Beth.” What’s happening?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just that the two little kids on our bus started running up the aisle. And their mother gave them a smack on their bums, and now they’re back in their seats.”

“Oh, alright, then.” And before you knew, Elizabeth was fast asleep again. Beth continues reading her book. And it’s getting to an exciting part where Carrie is chosen as the Prom Queen. And she’s standing on the stage waiting for the crown to be placed on her head. When suddenly, she is doused from above by something red and slimy. And everybody starts laughing at her. And the look on Carries’ face is terrifying.

About two hours later, the Greyhound makes its first rest stop. Beth looks over at Elizabeth and wonders if she should wake her up. She looks so peaceful.

Beth leans over closer to Elizabeth and shakes her a little. No reaction. She says, “Elizabeth, Elizabeth; we’re at the rest stop.” Nothing. So, Beth says, “Elizabeth,” really loud next to her ear. And Elizabeth all but jumps out of her seat. “What, what’s the matter? Where am I?’

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but you did insist that I wake you up at the rest stop, and we’re here now. I’m going to go to the ladies’ room, too, just in case.”

“Oh, right, of course. Sorry, sometimes when I wake up suddenly, I get startled. Well, let’s go before the bus driver comes back to the bus.”

“Ok, I hope there’s something to eat in there. I didn’t have any breakfast, and I’m starving,” Beth says.

“You know I’m kind of hungry too, but if we don’t get in there quick, we won’t have enough time to eat.”

The two of them get up from their seats. Elizabeth with a bit more difficulty than Beth. “Do you need some help? Says Beth.

“What? Oh no, I get stiff after I’ve been sitting for a while. Sometimes I have to rock back and forth in my seat to gain enough momentum to get up. You’ll find that out soon enough. Time goes more quickly the older you get. Oh, I don’t know why I’m telling you that. You have your whole life ahead of you. Just keep moving forward. Don’t get stuck, keep moving forward, Beth.”

As they entered the restaurant at their first bus stop, Elizabeth said,” Oh my, this place hasn’t changed a bit in all these years. It almost feels like time hasn’t moved forward at all.”

“What? Have you been here before, Elizabeth?”

For a brief moment, Elizabeth’s face had a look of panic on it. “Been here before? No, no, I just meant these old diners all look alike. You can tell them apart.”

“Oh, I could have sworn that you said you had been here before?”

“Been here, no. Maybe I just got a little confused. All a part of getting old.’
“Beth stares momentarily at Elizabeth and then shrugs her shoulders and walks through the diner door. And a little bell rings out as they walk through the door. As they come in, the bus driver calls out,” Step to it; you only have about ten minutes. You better get take out and use the lady’s room too. There isn’t another rest stop for three hours.”

Both Elizabeth and Beth look at him and then at each other. They walk up to the long counter and pick up a menu. And quickly scan it from front to back. At the same time, they both say, “Cheeseburger and fries and coke to go, please.”

Then they look at each other and laugh. Beth says,” that’s weird. I never figured you for a cheeseburger and fries and coke kind of girl.”

“What? Oh, when I take bus trips, I live on junk food. When I’m home, I only eat low-fat, no sugar, no salt, no dessert. Oh, that reminds me, and she yells out, “Can I get a slice of peach pie with that?”

“Peach pie, that’s my favorite too.”

“OK, people, it’s time to return to the bus. I will give you a one-minute warning when I’m about to leave. You have two minutes.” The bus driver heads outside to start up the bus.

Beth and Elizabeth say simultaneously, “I have to go to the bathroom.” And they rush in there. As Elizabeth is coming out of the ladies’ room, she sees Beth going out the door and walking towards the bus. As she steps outside, she hears Beth saying, “Wait, wait, here comes Elizabeth now.”

“Thanks, Beth. As you get older, things take longer.” Then the two of them go on the bus and take their seats. “You know I think I’m going to take a little nap. Eating lunch always make me sleepy for some reason.”

“OK, I’m going to continue reading my book. I hope I don’t get sick from eating so much and then riding on this bus. It used to make me nauseous when I was a kid when I ate breakfast and then take a bus to school. We lived out in the sticks.”

“Oh no, just don’t think about it, and I’m sure you will be fine, Beth.”

About two hours later, Elizabeth wakes up to find Beth sitting next to her with all the money from her wallet spread out over her lap. She leaned over to Beth’s ear and said, “Beth, it’s not a good idea to let anyone see your money. You’re just asking for trouble.”

“What, what are you talking about no one here is going to steal my money. Why would they?”

Elizabeth looked long and hard at Elizabeth and said, “Beth, I understand that you are young. But you’re not so young that you think everyone is the same as you or has money and wouldn’t steal, are you? Surely, you are aware of that? Do you know any of the other people on the bus?

“No, I don’t know anyone except you, and I only met you today. And your nice and your kind.”

“But you don’t know anyone else here, do you?”

“No.”

“Sometimes, desperate people do desperate things, like stealing. Some people are not kind. Some people are thieves. If they see a vulnerable person, they will try to take advantage of them. And that includes stealing money if they have an opportunity to do so. I’m sorry to have to tell you this. But unfortunately, not all people are worthy of your trust. You have to be aware of the people around you and keep your eyes open at all times.”

Beth looks at Elizabeth, and her lip begins to tremble, and a tear springs from her eye and runs down her cheek. She wipes it away. “I guess your right. My mother said she didn’t think I was mature enough to take a trip to New York City by myself. She thinks I’m naïve and too trusting. I guess she’s right. Thanks for telling me that. I don’t know what I would have done if someone had stolen all my money. I’m so lucky to have met you today.”

“Well, I believe that sometimes we come into each other’s people’s lives at the right time and place for a reason. I have a feeling that I was meant to meet you today. Maybe sometime later in your life, we will meet again.  I believe there is such a thing as kismet.”

As the bus pulls into Greyhound Bus, Depot, Beth looks up from her book, and Elizabeth isn’t there. She looks all around the bus, and people are beginning to gather up their belongings. The bus pulls into the depot and parks, and the bus driver says,” It’s time to debark the bus, everyone. Can the people in the front aisles stand up to ensure you do not leave any of your belongings behind?”

Beth looks across the aisle at a middle-aged woman and asks, “Excuse me, did you notice the older woman that was sitting next to me? Did you see when she got off?”

“Older woman? I’m sorry, I don’t remember any older-looking woman sitting next to you. You were sitting there alone the whole time, as far as I know. Sorry, I can’t help you.”

Everyone began standing and filing out of the bus one at a time. Beth keeps looking around, and Elizabeth isn’t in sight. She asks the bus driver, “Did the older woman that was sitting next to me get off the bus already? Or did you let her off the bus before now?”

“I don’t recall an older woman sitting beside you, miss. Please watch your step getting off the bus.  Beth is flabbergasted.        I have no clue what’s going on. Where is Elizabeth? She couldn’t have just disappeared in the blink of an eye, could she?

As Beth exits the bus, she scans the bus depot. Then decides to check out the lady’s room. She walks across the depot towards the bathroom. As she pushes the door open, she sees the only people in there is the mother and the two kids from the bus. She says, “Excuse me, I was on the bus with you. Did you notice the older woman that was sitting next to me the whole time? I can’t seem to find her.”

“Older woman, no, I don’t remember anyone sitting beside you on the bus, sorry. I have to go. Someone is picking me up outside the depot, and I don’t want to miss them. Have a great day. Bye.”

Beth can not comprehend what’s happening. Could she have imagined the whole thing? No, Elizabeth was as real as anyone on the bus, but where did she go? What happened to her? Then she remembers that Elizabeth said that they would meet again someday. Beth knows that she will see Elizabeth again. She will never forget her kind face and caring heart. Beth walks over to the sink and looks in the mirror, and washes her face and hands. And when she looks up for a moment, she sees Elizabeth’s reflection. But when she turned around, no one was there.

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THE EBB AND FLOW OF THE TIDE

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Mathew hesitates momentarily before he throws his knapsack down. And steps onto the boat as it sways and gently bumps against the dock. He pushes the oars against the tide and takes his last look back at the house where he had spent his entire life. He stands up in the bow of

Leo Cardelli- Photographer

boat and cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “goodbye” to no one in particular.

There’s nothing keeping him here anymore since his father passed away four months ago from emphysema. Mathew’s family has lived on this island for over a century. His childhood was spent fishing and crabbing. As soon as he was big enough to hold a fishing rod and set a trap.

His father took him by motorboat every day from their small island to the school on the mainland. When Mathew was young, he believed that the island was paradise. As he waited for his father to pick him up on their dock with their small motorboat, Matthew would breathe in the salty sea air and the mist.

But over time, the island became a prison, and he dreamed of his escape. He imagines moving to New York City, of becoming invisible, unknown, and one of eight million.

Everyone in the little island community knows him by first and middle, and last name. They know who attended his birth. And the doctor that cut the cord. There was only one doctor on the island. Doctor Hartman. He had just passed away eight months ago at the age of eighty-eight. The islanders are still seeking a replacement. But so far, they have no takers.

They know when Mathew cut his first tooth, caught his first fish, and kissed his first girl. They have known his family history for over a century.

Mathew longs to be landlocked, with no pounding surf or cry of the seagull.
When Mathew arrives at the mainland, he ties the boat up at the dock. That he knows so well, strides by all the familiar faces, without saying hello or goodbye, he walks swiftly to the bus depot and takes the first bus he finds that will take him closer to New York City and as far away as possible from Harker Island.

As the bus pulls in at the first rest stop, he uses the restroom. And then grabs a sandwich and fries and a cup of coffee. It’ll take at least ten hours to reach his destination. He closes his eyes and thinks of all the new and exciting things he hopes to see and experience in his new life in the big city. He imagines all the strangers that will pass him on the street. They will not know his name or who his parents and grandparents were.

Mathew sleeps on and off until he hears the bus driver announces, “Port Authority, Grand Central Station.”   He rubs his eyes and slowly opens them to an unbelievably huge bus depot. He disembarks from the bus and grabs his backpack, and follows his fellow passengers off the bus. He walks out of the bus depot into a magnificent and huge room. In front of him are three of the largest windows he has ever seen. He’s amazed. He heads outside the Port Authority and onto the street.

There are groups of people standing along a railing, stepping over and between small piles of melting snow. He peers down to see what they’re looking at. Mathew sees the deep blue waters of what he will later learn is the Hudson River. It seems to him as if he can’t get away from the water.

He realizes that his stomach is growling and looks around for a restaurant to get something to eat. A restaurant sits right next door to the Port Authority. It’s a place to eat called Schnipper’s. He walks up to the counter and looks at the menu on the wall, and orders their best burger and fries and a Pepsi.

As he’s eating the last fry, he looks around the dining room for a bathroom. He sees the men’s room sign and walks toward it. As he’s about to walk in, a middle-aged man bumps into him and then walks off without even acknowledging him. Mathew stares at him. “Jerk,” Mathew says under his breath.

After he emerges from the bathroom, Mathew walks up to the cashier to pay for his check.” Hey, how are you doing?”  As he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. It’s not there. “What the…?” He pats all his other pockets. Nothing. He grabs his backpack and searches all through it and the pockets on the outside. Nothing. He starts hyperventilating. The cashier looks at him and says, “Sir, is there some sort of problem?”

“Yes, some guy bumped me as I was going into the men’s room. And I think he stole my wallet. I had it when I got off the bus at the Port Authority, and now it’s gone.”

“Oh dear, he must have been a pickpocket. That happens all the time around the Port Authority and the rest of the city, too, I guess. You can’t keep things in your back pocket around here. Or somebody will lift it. Do you want me to call the police, or can you do it with your cell phone?”

“The police. Well, I guess so. I don’t have any money since he stole every penny I had. Yes, please call the police. I’ll wait here.”

Mathew stands there, unsure of what his next move should be? He stares out the front window of the restaurant. “Oh my god, there’s the guy. I have to go get my money back.” And he hands the cashier his backpack and dashes out the door.

Mathew blasts out the door slamming the door. It rattles in its frame. He runs as fast as he can toward the pickpocket and tackles him. The guy is yelling, “Help, help. This guy is trying to kill me. Help.”

A few people start to gather and watch Mathew wrestle the man down to the ground. No one interferes. And the next thing Mathew is aware of is two police officers yelling at him. “Hey, buddy, you can stop pummeling this guy. We got you.”

Mathew gets off the guy as the other police officer snaps handcuffs on the pickpocket’s wrist behind his back. Mathew spits out all in one breath. “This guy stole my wallet with every penny I have. I just arrived here by bus. And this guy stole my money. I need it.”

“Alright, I called in for another squad car, and the guy in handcuffs will be on his way to be booked at our precinct. I’m going to need some information from you before you come to the police station.”

“What? I have to go? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Ok, OK, buddy, we’re here to help you. The cashier at the restaurant called us. Try to calm down. You have to come downtown and give a report. And then you’ll get all your money back if it’s still in the wallet.”

“Alright, I’ll try to calm down. But no one ever stole anything from me before.”

“What, where have you been living anyway? Obviously, you aren’t a New Yorker.”

“No, I’m from Harker’s Island off the NC coast. I just arrived at the Port Authority less than an hour ago. And then I stopped at the restaurant next door to the depot, and I got robbed going into the bathroom.”

“Tell me exactly what happened, starting with your name.”

“What? Again? Ok, my name is Mathew Fegundus. I just came here to NYC by train from Harker’s Island off the NC coast. I came here to start over. My parents passed away, and I had no reason to stay there any longer. So, I sold my father’s fishing boat and our house, and I came here. I don’t know a living soul here. I’m starting over. A fresh start, I thought. And I ate at that restaurant right there next to the Port Authority.  Some guy bumped into me as I entered the bathroom. When I went to pay for my meal, my wallet was missing. I was staring out the front window of the restaurant, and I saw the guy that robbed me. I ran out and tackled him. And that’s all she wrote.”

“Ok, Mathew, you’ll have to come to the police station with us and sign an affidavit stating what happened, and then we can return your wallet after you make sure everything is still in. You will have to identify the thief in a line-up.”

“What? Can’t you give me my money now?”

“No, Mathew, it doesn’t work that way. If this goes to court, you will have to testify against him. Do you understand?”

“Understand? Yeah, I understand. I got here less than an hour ago. I got robbed, and now I have to go to the police station and make out a report and sign an affidavit, and then I’ll get my own wallet and money back. But later, I’ll have to testify in court.?”

“Ok, do you want to go with us in our vehicle?”

“Where is the police station?”

“It is in the Midtown South Precinct. Do you know where that is?”

“No. I don’t know where anything is, and I don’t know anyone here. I have to get my wallet back. I don’t have any other money with me. I have money in a bank account in my hometown. But I don’t have any ID, and it’s in my wallet. I guess I’ll have to come with you. I never rode in a police car before.”

“OK, buddy, let’s go. It’s not that long a ride. Sit in the back and keep quiet. I’m Officer Murdoc, by the way. Get in, sit down, and be quiet.”

As Mathew sits in the back seat, he looks out the window as the streets of New York City fly by. He has never seen such enormous buildings in his life. The biggest building on Harker’s Island was two stories. It was Kelly’s Fish and Tackle Shop, and the owner lived in an apartment upstairs. It also has a flat roof where Kelly, the owner, used to drink beer and bar-b-que fish and watch the ocean. He often asked Mathew to join him. They would eat and drink in silence while they watched the sun go down over the ocean.

Mathew can’t even see the tops of these skyscrapers from the back seat of the police car. He looks forward to walking all over the downtown section and seeing all the different people. People he never met and might not meet in the future. Who knows?

As they drive toward the police station, Mathew sees more people on one street than lived on the whole island where he grew up. More people than he had ever seen in his entire life. It was a sight he’ll never forget, no, matter how long he lives, even though this wasn’t a great beginning to his new life. He hopes that the future will hold many new adventures, new friends and happiness, and love if he’s lucky.

“Alright, Mathew, here we are. You can exit the car and wait for me. I will escort you inside, and we will get this business over as quickly and painlessly as possible. And you can be on your way.”

As Mathew gets out of the vehicle, he looks around, and he hears a man yelling at the top of his lungs. “Let me go. Get your hands off me. I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m being framed.”

Mathew glances over in that direction, and who does he see doing the yelling? The pickpocket. Mathew wants to go and punch him in the face. All this trouble because of this low-life thief. What a horrible beginning to his new life. Mathew stands there and glares at the guy. And he’s startled by the policeman saying to him,” OK, let’s go. Ignore what’s going on over there.”

“Alright, have a seat, and I will have to ask you the same questions for my report. Let’s get started.”

“Yes, alright, Officer Murdock. I hope this won’t take too long. I have to find a place to stay temporarily until I find a permanent residence.” Mathew puts down his backpack and takes a deep breath, and then exhales.

After fifteen minutes of questions. Another officer steps over to Murdock’s desk and says. “Alright, the lineup is ready. You can bring in the victim.”

“Victim? I never thought of myself as a victim. Jeez.”

“It’s OK, buddy. If you live in New York City long enough, you’re going to get mugged. That’s life in the big city. What can I say?”

“You are going to be behind a one-way mirror. You will be able to see the suspects, but they can’t see you. Take a good look. Did the guy say anything to you? Would you recognize his voice?”

“No, none when he bumped me. But when I saw him outside the restaurant window. I ran out there and jumped him and punched him, he yelled. “Help, help. This guy is trying to kill me. Help.” And that’s when you guys showed up.”

“Alright, we can go in now, and you take your time looking at the guys and if you are absolutely sure you recognize him. Then you tell me his number. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand. Will I get my money then?”

“After you make a statement and sign it. Your property will be returned to you. We will need your contact information, full name, current address, and phone number.”

“I don’t have an address yet. I have a cell phone number. After I get a place to live, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright, here comes number one. Number one, will you face forward, turn right and then left, and then shout, “Help, help this guy is trying to kill me. Help.”

Mathew stands in front of the two-way mirror and looks at the three guys standing up there. They look similar to each other. He listens intently while the three of them each shout,” Help, helps this guy is trying to kill me.”

Mathew stares at them and then remembers that his assailant had a facial scar that ran down the side of his cheek from his hairline down below his earlobe. Mathew tugs on the cop’s sleeve. “Hey, can you ask those guys to turn so I can see their left cheek?”

“What? Sure. Everyone, turn so we can see your left cheek.”

Number one and two turns, but number three hesitates and takes a step back. And shifts his weight back and forth nervously. “Number three, do as your told, now.”

Number three turns his face. “Yeah, that’s him, that’s him. He has a scar running down his cheek from his temple to his earlobe. That’s him.”

“Alright, number one and two, you can leave. Officer Drewitz take number three to the holding cell. He is under arrest. Read him his rights.”

“Alright, Mathew, go over to the Sargent’s desk, and you can claim your property and be on your way. This guy may get out on bail. We don’t know that right now. But he may. Make sure we have your contact information and inform the Sargent when you have an address. You will be informed if your assailant is out on bail. And also, when you’ll have to come to court to testify against him. Do you understand? “

“Yes, I understand. You or someone will inform me if the crook gets out on bail and let me know if there is a court date that I have to testify against him.”

“Ok, then go over there and get your belongings. You will have to sign an affidavit stating that you received all your property. Got it?”

“Yes, I got it, I got it. Good Bye. No offense, but I hope I don’t have to meet all of you anytime in the near future.”

As Mathew steps out the door of the police station, he takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Well, that’s nice. How do you do.” What’s next? I get run down by a bus or something?” Then he realizes that he doesn’t have a clue exactly where he is or where he’s going. He sees a bench down the street next to a sign that says bus stop. He walks over to it and plops down.

He pulls out his cell phone and looks at the time. 11:45. Not even lunchtime, and he had breakfast and got robbed. Went to a police station in New York City. And identified the thief and sign an affidavit. And got his wallet and money back. He still doesn’t know where he should go.

He realizes he should have made more detailed plans before he arrived here. At least he should have found where to look for a place to live. And where he could find a job. He really didn’t put much thought into any of it. He was sick and tired of the same town and the same people. And knowing nothing different was ever going to happen there. And he would never meet anyone new. And the girls in town were like sisters to him. He couldn’t imagine marrying any of them. He needed a fresh start. But he realizes he should have put more thought into the where and the how of it all.

As he sits at the bus stop, an older woman walks over to the bench and sits down. She has two grocery bags in her arms. They look heavy. She sits down and sighs. “Oh, my feet are killing me.”

Mathew looks over at her and says, “are you alright, mam?”
She turns her head and looks at him from head to toe. “Mam, huh? Well, you are obviously not from around here, are you? I’m guessing somewhere down south? North or South Carolina?”

“North Carolina, Mam. I just arrived here today by bus.”

“Really, and how do you like it so far?”

“I haven’t seen too much of it except when I was in the police car. And I couldn’t believe how big the buildings were and how huge New York City was. Even though I’ve only seen a small part of it.”

The woman turns her head and looks at him from head to toe. “Police car, did you get arrested already. What happened?”

“What? No, I didn’t get arrested. I was robbed. When I was going into the bathroom at the restaurant where I ate lunch, some guy bumped into me. I didn’t really think anything about it. Until I went to pay for my lunch and my wallet was missing. Then as I was standing there, I looked out the window, and I saw the guy who bumped into me. I ran outside and tackled him. The cashier called the police, and they came and arrested him. Then, I had to go to the police station and make a statement and identify my assailant. And, here I am.”

“Woah, you have had quite an eventful morning. What are you going to do now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I didn’t plan this move as well as I should have. I don’t know anyone here. I have some money with me. But I have to have my savings sent from my bank in NC. And I will have to open a bank account here, so my old bank can transfer it to my new account. And I don’t have a place to live or a job yet. I have no idea where to look for a place to live, either. I feel stupid right now. I didn’t really think any of this through.”

“What kind of work did you do before you came here?”

“I grew up on a small island off the coast of NC. My dad was a fisherman, and I became one too. There weren’t too many choices available there.”

“Alright, let me think about this for a few minutes. I don’t ordinarily trust people I just met. But for some reason, I trust you. Let me sit here and think about it for a few minutes. Relax a bit.”

“First of all, what’s your name, and how old are you?”

“Mam?” How old am I?”

“I’m twenty-four. I’ll be twenty-five in two weeks. My name is Mathew Carberry. My father just passed away. I don’t have any other family. So, I thought I needed to make some changes. I hope I haven’t made a big mistake.”

“Well, Mathew, I think it was fate that brought you here. And that you and I have met at this moment in time. The fact is I think I can help you. My son and my grandson own a small tour boat company. They take tourists on trips to the Statue of Liberty. And one of his best Tour Boat Captains decided to retire. And he needs to be replaced. And I think that with your experience being a fisherman. It might just qualify as the experience that could land you this job. I can’t make you any promises. However, my son is just as good a judge of character as I am, and he trusts me. What do you think?”

“I think that although I had decided not to have anything to do with boats anymore that I would be a fool not to take advantage of this opportunity.”

“Alright then, let me give my son a call and see if he has time to meet you today. By the way, my name is Elizabeth Maguire. Now sit tight for a couple of minutes while I speak to my son, Richard.”

“Hello, Thomas, this is your mother.”

“Yes, mom, I recognize your voice. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Thomas, why do you always ask that? I’m fine, and I can take care of myself. The reason I called is that I met a young man here at the bus stop and he is looking for a job. He had just arrived here from an Island off the coast of North Carolina. And he worked all his life for his father, who was a fisherman.”

“Mother, stop. I know where this conversation is going. You found a lost puppy, and you want me to take him in and adopt him. This isn’t the first time I rode a bronco in the rodeo.”

“Thomas, what in the world are you talking about, lost puppies, and riding in a rodeo?”

“What I’m trying to say is, you can’t save every poor soul you run into every day of your life. Do you remember the homeless man you brought here? And, now, he is working for me as a night security guy.”

“Yes, Thomas, I do. And do you remember he has been working there for eight years and is one of your most trusted employees?

“Alright, alright, I give, I give. Send him here. I’ll talk to him and see if he is a good fit.”

“Thank you, Thomas. We will take the bus over there right now. We should be there shortly. Bye.”

“Alright, Mathew, I spoke to my son, Thomas. And he’s willing to meet and talk to you about a job. No promises. But I know he’ll like you just as I do. We have to get on the number 149 Bus and then change buses and get on the 430 bus to the peer. We should be there in less than an hour.

As they sit on the bench waiting for their bus to arrive, Mathew watches the unbelievable amount of traffic going by. The most extraordinary thing is the sheer amount of people walking in every direction. Women in business suits head to work. Men in hard hats working on girders thirty stories above the street level. People of every race and age. It’s extraordinary and overwhelming all at once.

And taxies that whizz by, the drivers leaning on their horns the whole way, not giving in to other cars or trucks just flying by at what seemed an unbelievable speed. But somehow, no cars crash and no one’s run over. It’s amazing and frightening at the same time. Just as Mathew is thinking about the traffic, a bus pulls up, and there is a tremendous swooshing sound emanates from under the bus.

“This is our bus, Mathew. Let’s go. As he steps up into the bus, he realizes that the young woman in front of him handed the bus driver a card, not cash. He begins to sweat a little. He thinks, oh, what am I going to do now? He clears his throat and says quietly, “Miss Maguire, I’m sorry, but I don’t have a ticket to get on this bus, and the sign says, No Cash.”

“Oh yes, but of course, you don’t have a Metro Ticket. Why would you? Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. You can pay me back when you have the money.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Maguire, that is generous of you. I have the money now. I‘ll give it to you as soon as we sit down. I do appreciate your help more than I can say.”

“Mathew, please call me Lizzie. All my friends do.”

“OK, Lizzie, thanks again.”

After they settle in their seats, Mathew sighs and stares out the window. And then he remembers he owes Miss Lizzie money. “Oh, Miss Lizzie, how much do I owe you for the bus ride?”

“Well, why don’t we settle up on the ride home. What do you say?”

“I say that’s just fine. He settles back into his seat and stares at the rushing traffic and the buildings as they whizz by his window. He looks around at all the people sitting near him on the bus. And is amazed again at the sheer variety of people sitting near him. On Harker’s Island, almost everyone was related to someone else who lived on the Island.

He doesn’t know anyone here at all. And then he remembers Miss Lizzy sitting beside him and thinks she’s my first friend. And that’s his last thought because he drifts off to sleep, and he doesn’t wake up until he hears Miss Lizzie say, “Mathew, wake up we here.”

As they pull up to the bus stop, Mathew looks around and sees the landscape, and the street is different from downtown New York City. The traffic isn’t as heavy, and there aren’t as many people in business suits. He waits for Miss Lizzie to step down to the last step, and then he reaches up to take her hand as she goes onto the sidewalk.

“Thank you, Mathew, you’re a gentleman. And that’s something I don’t often see anymore. We have to walk a short distance to the pier and then another five minutes to my son’s dock and his office.

As Mathew walks along the peer, he looks out over the water, and he sees the Statue of Liberty standing tall. “Oh my god, that’s the Statue of Liberty. I saw pictures of it when I was a kid. But I never thought I would ever see it. It’s huge. When I was young, my father used to tell me stories about how his family came to America from Ireland and landed at Ellis Island. They didn’t know a soul in America. But they were escaping the Potato Famine in Ireland. And they hoped to make a new life for themselves in America. And here I am back here again. And I’m hoping that I can make a new life for myself. And just maybe the new beginning for me will be here at the Statue of Liberty.”

“Mathew, it certainly seems as if this is your destiny. Everything that happened up until now has brought you to this moment in time—even being robbed and having to go to the police station. And then sitting down at the bus stop and meeting me. It’s fate, don’t you think?”

“Lizzie, I can’t help but feel it was all meant to be. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for having met you when I was feeling so low. And I began to think I had made a stupid mistake coming here where I didn’t know anyone let alone where to get a job or where I could live. Wait a minute, where am I going to live?”

“Alright, Mathew, calm down a bit. Let’s take this one minute at a time. It will all work out. Let’s go, my son will be waiting for us. And I think my grandson will be getting off for the day right about now. And you can meet him as well. He’s about your age. Let’s walk this way now.”

“Oh, you’re right. Sometimes I get carried away. My father was always telling me to take one thing at a time.”

“Your father gave you good advice. You should take it. Oh, there’s my son now. He must have been on the lookout for us. That’s him waving at us over there. Let’s not make him wait too long. Just be yourself and be honest, and you’ll be in like Flynn.”

“Like who?”

“Never mind, that’s just an old expression. It means everything is going to work out.”

“Oh, Thomas, it’s so nice for you to come out and meet us. This is Mathew Carberry, the young man I told you about.”

“Hello, Mathew. It’s nice to meet you. Why don’t you come into my office and will have a conversation and you can tell me all about yourself? And you can tell me what you can bring to the table.”

“Table, what do you mean?”

“Mathew, don’t try and confuse the young man, he just got here today from North Carolina, and I was lucky enough to meet him. I’m sure you will feel the same way.”

“Alright, mother, let me decide how I’m going to feel.”

“Alright, son, you’re right, and I trust your judgment. Good luck, Mathew. I have a feeling that this will be the beginning of the first step into your new life. Good luck.”

As Mathew walked into the office, he turned back at Lizzie, and she was giving him the universal sign of good luck, thumbs up. He returned her gesture and walked through the door into his future.

And The Winner Is

2 Replies

It’s early Saturday morning and my doorbell rings four times. Before I can answer the door, they knock several times using my new brass doorknocker, two Eskimos rubbing noses. I found it in an antique store in Philadelphia called Antiques R Us. I know that’s tacky but they have some really cool stuff in there.

I trip over my cat Sloopy in my rush to get to the door. Sloopy is trying to escape. He’s terrified of both the doorbell and knocking at the door. I step up to the door out of breath and a bit worse for wear. I see a UPS man standing there. He has his middle finger pressed firmly against the doorbell.

I flash him the universal signal for knock it off, a hand across the throat through the window in the door. I fumble around looking for the key to the front door. It’s in the top drawer of the desk next to the door.

I yank the door so energetically that I nearly rip the door off the hinges. “Hey, you can stop ringing the doorbell. What in god’s name is your problem? Couldn’t you just toss the package on the porch like you usually do?”

The man sneers at me. You probably don’t really know what that means until somebody actually directs that look at you. “I haven’t got all day lady. Can you please sign this?”

He hands me the electronic signature thingy. I sign it. My signature looks like Sanskrit or something. He thrust a heavy white envelope into my hand. He does an about-face and walks down the sidewalk and propels himself into his truck. He pulls out without even checking for traffic coming in his direction. Maniac.

I close the door and look at the envelope. I don’t recognize the return address. It looks like a wedding invitation. Good god, almighty is it possible that I’m being invited to yet another of my college friends’ second-time-around weddings? This will make the sixth one in two years. I don’t think anyone should expect their friends to go to another wedding and give another expensive gift for a marriage that probably won’t last until the second anniversary.

I tear open the envelope. Surprise it isn’t a wedding invitation. It’s an invitation to a Scavenger Hunt. Seriously a Scavenger Hunt, who am I Katherine Heyburn? Where’s my Cary Grant? I look at the invitation for the who, what, and where of it all. It’s from a mysterious someone who is an associate of my investment broker Bill Holden. It’s scheduled for December 31st, 2019 in New York City, from 8 pm until midnight.

Are they kidding New Year’s Eve in New York City? I throw the invitation down on the coffee table. I walk back to the kitchen to finish eating my now soggy Captain Crunch cereal. I sip my lukewarm tea.

I idly tap my spoon against the table. I imagine myself dressed to kill, wearing my to-die-for black fur-lined cape. It has a hand-embroidered trim with golden bumblebees. I haven’t really had an opportunity to wear it yet. New Year’s Eve would be the perfect occasion to make its debut.

Well, why not? It could be a wonderful adventure. I’ll use the limo service the invitation listed. I can drink champagne and eat caviar. Well, maybe not caviar. I hate it but definitely drink champagne.

I walk back to the living room and pick up the invitation and take it back into the kitchen with me. I read it over several times. There’s a contact email to RSVP. That’s kind of odd, but it’s the digital age. I walk over to my computer and boot it up. and send my RSVP to the email address.

I’m busy all day Saturday doing errands. I had to take some of my business suits to the dry cleaners and then I have my nails done and highlights added to my hair. I really want to make a good impression on New Year’s Eve. It’s only ten days away. I stop by on my way home to visit my mother. She lives about fifteen minutes from my house in an over fifty-community.

I knock at the door and my mother answers out of breath. “Santina, you nearly scared me to death coming to the door this early morning.”

“Mother it’s two in the afternoon. You must have slept in this morning.”

My mother has a very close relationship with Vodka Martinis. She likes to throw back a few every evening as she watches some man-hating movie on the LMN Channel. She just hasn’t been the same since my father ditched her and married his dental assistant seven years ago. She swears she wouldn’t have been as bitter if the woman had at least been a younger woman and not someone the same age. Somehow, I doubt that would have made that much difference.

“Can I come in mother?”

“Of course, who said you couldn’t?”

I follow my mother through the foyer and the pristine, never used, formal living room into the kitchen.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Santina?”

“No thank you Mother, but if you have tea that would be great.” My mother refuses to acknowledge that I never drink coffee. It’s just another of her odd little quirks. “Mother guess what?”

Before I can continue, she says, “Santina, I’ve told you time and again that I don’t like guessing games. How in the world would I be able to guess?”

“Mother it’s only a figure of speech. I didn’t really expect you to guess. I was invited to a New Years’ Eve Scavenger Hunt in New York City, isn’t that exciting?”

“New York City, oh I don’t know Santina. That sounds dangerous. Who are you going with? Who is hosting this scavenger hunt?”

“I’m going by myself. I’ve rented a limo to take me there and drive me around. It will be perfectly safe.”

“You didn’t answer me about who invited you?”

“A friend of Bill Holden, my investments broker.”

“How long have you known him Santina?”

I hesitate for a moment and say, “oh I met him six months ago Mother. He’s very well known in the business community.” A bald-faced lie, but I was not about to tell my mother I never met the man.

“Oh well then that seems safe enough, but be aware that there are a lot of crazy people out there on New Year’s Eve in New York City looking for people to take advantage.”

“I know Mother. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Well, I better get going I have a lot of things to do this weekend. I have a busy workweek ahead of me. I’ll see you later Mom. I’ll give you a call during the week.”

“What? You just got here. Why are you always in a rush to leave Santina? I didn’t even make you your tea.”

I stand up and awkwardly hug my mother. “Never mind Mother I wasn’t really that thirsty.” I head back to the front door and into my SAAB. Somehow my visits with my mother are always brief. I love her, but I just don’t enjoy spending time with her. It’s a shame, but that’s just the way it is with us.

The next week flies by before you know it; it’s New Year’s Eve. I’m dressed to kill.  Even if I do say so myself, I look stunning in my sequined gold vintage Valentino umpire dress. I picked it up for a song in an out-of-the-way shop on South Street in Philadelphia. My cape swirls around me with my every move.

The limo arrives right on time and the chauffeur comes to my door. He’s a handsome man with jet-black hair and a mustache. If that isn’t enough, he has a Middle Eastern accent that’s sexy as hell. When I open the door, I do it with a flourish. He greets me, “Are you, Madam Ferraro?”

“Yes, yes, I am, and you are?”

“My name is Amir Bashara, I am at your service.”

He looks like he could be a sheik, my heart starts pounding and my imagination goes into overdrive. I force myself to calm down. “Yes Amir, here is the list of destinations for the evening. I’m ready to go. I reach over and grab my purse and my digital camera. I follow him out to the limo. It’s gleaming in the light cast by a nearby streetlight. I feel like Cinderella on her way to the ball.

Amir opens the back door and says in his deep, melodic voice, “everything is as you have requested Madam, let me know if I can be of service in any way. There is an intercom in the back should you need anything at all.”

I sit down on the doe soft leather of the back seat. Six people could sit here comfortably. I see a discreet black refrigerator; within it are the chilled champagne I requested and a platter of horderves. I adjust my cape that had become twisted around my legs when I stepped inside the car. Capes are a thing of beauty but not really practical, like many things in life. I stare momentarily at Amir’s profile and dream of a thousand Arabia nights. I let my imagination visit there for a while.

I consider my coming evening. I think about my quest, the places I will visit, and the treasures I must capture. The instructions in the email I received said I must visit the 42nd and Broadway Theater and either take a picture of the theater where the musical Chicago is playing or somehow get a ticket stub for it.

The next goal is to stop in at the Pego Club and have one of their famous cocktails and take the glass. The third stop is the Ice-Skating Rink at Rockefeller Square. I must capture a picture of the Skaters in motion. The final goal is to visit the observatory at the top of the Empire State Building. Where I will meet up with my fellow scavenger hunters and find out who they are. And who is this mysterious person who invited me on this wonderful adventure?

New York City

Photograph by David Mark-Pixabay

The evening passes quickly, and the crisp air in the city is almost electric with excitement. People are walking up and down the streets in glamorous tuxedos and sparkling dresses. I arrive at the theater and see the sign for Chicago. “Amir, could you stop here and let me out? Could you drive around the block and then pick me up in front of the theater? It shouldn’t take me long.”

“Yes of course Madam, would you like me to accompany you?”

“What? No, that’s not necessary, but thank you very much for the offer. I’ll be fine. This won’t take me more than a few moments. I step out of the car and onto the street. It’s unbelievable how crowded the theater district is. There are actors walking around in costumes from some of the shows that are playing in the theaters. I walk up to the theater playing Chicago and take several quick shots of the Marquee and the people milling about. I look around on the ground for a ticket that someone might have dropped. It’s difficult to see because of the constantly moving feet of the people around me. I hear a deep and familiar voice say. “Madam is this what you are looking for?”

I look up at Amir standing there, looking like Aladdin. “Oh, Amir that’s very kind of you but unnecessary. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. ”

“I have no doubt Madam, but such a beautiful woman as yourself should have company in this great city of New York.”

I look at him closely. I hope he isn’t some kind of stalker. I don’t see crazy in his eyes, but you never know. He hands me a ticket. It’s a stub for Chicago musical. “Wow thank you very much, Amir. I guess we can be on our way.”

“Follow me madam the car is right over here.”

Somehow, he found a parking spot right in front of the theater. He opens the door for me. I step in like Cinderella into the pumpkin carriage.

It doesn’t take very long to arrive at the Pego Club. There’s a long line of people waiting to go inside. I wonder how I will be able to go in and get a cocktail and grab the glass. And still, have time for the other two destinations.

“Madam if you would allow me to step out for a moment I will see if I can arrange for you to enter more quickly?”

“Really, why that would be wonderful. Otherwise, I think I will be waiting in line all night.”

Amir pulls the limo into a spot that miraculously appears in front of us. I look at his mysterious eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s looking back at me. I look down quickly embarrassed to be caught looking at his handsome face. He steps out of the car and disappears into the crowd. The car seems suddenly empty and missing some essential energy. He returns in a few moments and taps on my window. “Madam, I have arranged for us to go in long enough for a drink.”

Us, did he say us? He takes off his cap and puts it in the passenger side of the front seat. I realize for the first time how tall he is and that he’s wearing a very expensive suit that fits him like it was tailored for him. “Oh of course.” I stammer and somehow get out of the car gracefully. My cape flows out behind me like the train on a wedding dress. He offers me his hand as I step out onto the sidewalk. I feel a surge of electricity flow between us. I think I really shouldn’t have drunk that entire carafe of champagne.

I can’t help but notice that the crowd seems to make a path for us to the door. The bouncer lets us walk right in. There’s a low buzz of people talking in the background. A wonderful aroma of incense or perfume is in the air. It reinforces the feeling that I’m walking into a dream. Amir finds a space at the crowded bar and orders. He hands me my cocktail and drinks something dark and golden. After I finish my drink Amir hands me a bag.

“This is for your glass Madam.”

“Amir please call me Santina. I would appreciate it.”

“Madam, I mean Santina that’s a beautiful name. It fits you. Sorry I shouldn’t make such a personal comment.”

I stare at him. He doesn’t really look like he is embarrassed. I’m at a loss for how I should act since I have never been in a situation like this before. “Oh, that’s fine thank you very much. I guess we should be on our way.”

“Of course, let’s be off to the skating rink, I’ve only been there once as a little girl. I’ve been looking forward to seeing it very much.”

The next thing I know we glide up to Rockefeller Center. It’s very crowded. Apparently, everyone wants to skate on the small rink on this beautiful New Year’s Eve.

“Santina would you like to skate on the rink? I can arrange it for you if you wish?”

“What? Oh no, another time would be wonderful. I’m really not dressed for skating, thank you.”

“As you wish. If you would like I will take a picture of you, next to the rink. Then we can be off to the final destination of the Empire State Building observatory.”

We arrive at the Empire State Building at quarter to Twelve.  We are parked at the Fifth Avenue entrance. The street is a wonderland glowing with magnificent Christmas lights and gold and silver decorations.

As we exit the car, I see there are snowflakes beginning to fall. It really seems like a wonderful dream. Amir takes my hand as I get out of the car. I forget that he is my limousine driver. I feel like a princess whose hand is being held by her prince, her Arabian prince. I allow myself to be lost for this moment in this fantasy. We walk into the lobby. It’s an amazing combination of beautiful lights and soft music from a Quartet playing in the background.

“Santina, the elevator is this way.” He escorts me to what looks like a private elevator.

“Amir this can’t be the public elevator. This looks like a private elevator.”

“Santina, it’s alright we can go this way. It has all been arranged for you.”

For me? I wonder what he means by that.  Oh, he must mean for the scavenger hunt group. The elevator arrives at the observatory in what seems like a twinkling of the eye. Amir takes my hand as I step out of the elevator. The view is unbelievably beautiful. The city of New York City is ablaze with lights in every direction. I’m awed by the vision before me.

We walk over to the far wall. Amir makes a sweeping gesture with his arms. I look in Amir’s eyes and he’s looking back into mine. He leans down toward me. All the fireworks and whistles and horns are blowing, fireworks can be seen in the distance. I hear “Happy New Year Santina. It’s all for you. You have only to reach out and take it.”