It
was late in the afternoon in Central Park and the rain bounced off the
concrete, with a song of dull thuds and light metal pings. The rain had come
unexpectedly that morning and people had scrambled for shelter under canopies
and inside taxis as the rain began to fall. The dark clouds hung around for
nearly the entire day, drenching the unprepared. In the park, on each side of a
wet sidewalk trees stretched over and made a canopy of leaves. Drops trickled
through the leaves and fell to the ground. Some of the drops landed on the sidewalk,
some of them landed on the metal benches lining the walk way, and some of them
landed on the top of bright red umbrella.
The umbrella was held in the cold grasp of a young
women, who walked with slow unsure steps. She was wrapped in soaked-through
black cloth jacket, and her light brown hair clung to the side of her face and
neck, heavy with rain. A business man with a newspaper covering his head ran
around her to the end of the side walk and jumped in a dull yellow taxi. A
women in heels, walking quickly, kept her head down and under the black
umbrella she held.
The young women with the red umbrella’s name was
Marcy, and as she shuffled along in the rain, she felt her phone buzz in her
pocket. She stopped to see who was calling: Bill. Marcy tightened her grip on
the phone for a brief second as a wave of panic ran through her veins. She
stuck the phone back in her pocket, letting it go to voice mail.
As she walked, Marcy watched the rain fall and she
kicked at puddles, sending drops of water over the concrete. Her shoes were
soaked through and her feet were freezing, but Marcy kept walking. She walked
for an eternity, and she let her thoughts run wild. How was she going to pay
for food? How was she going to pay Bill? What was she supposed to do now? Each
new raindrop that hit the umbrella started to feel like a new problem, a new
responsibility, a new weight and a new bill. The rain got heavier and heavier
until she couldn't hold it all anymore.
She walked over to one of the metal benches and sat
down. She dropped the umbrella and let the rain hit the top of her head
unimpaired. A few minutes ago, Marcy had found the red umbrella abandoned on
the subway. She had thought about leaving it since she was already soaked from walk
to the station, but as she stood to get off at an unexpected stop, she grabbed
the umbrella and took it with her. She was supposed to be on her way home, but
she decided she no longer wanted to go there. Instead, she got off at Central
Park and went for a walk in the rain. She sat on the bench and let the bright
umbrella fall to the ground, opened, upside down and gathering rain water. She
leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. A
shudder rain down her spine, and muscles clenched. She took a deep breath and
rubbed the corners of her eyes to dry them.
“Think of anything else, anything,” she pleaded with
herself, but she couldn't. She wiped her running nose with her sleeve and
looked down at the dull concrete. A few tears slid down the side of her nose,
but she quickly stopped them with the back of her hands.
Marcy didn’t see him, but on the bench next to her, a
little boy sat, crying softly. He looked around and cried for his mom, but his
voice was drowned out by the storm. He saw Marcy sitting there and got out of
his seat to walk over to her. He asked her a question in a garbled voice, deep
breaths between every word.
“Are you lost too?” he asked, tapping Marcy on the
shoulder. Marcy looked up, confused to see the little boy standing there. He
was soaking wet, and his nose was running. He was probably five or six years
old, and he clutched tightly to a stuffed blue bear.
“No, I’m not” she said, wiping her face. What was
happening?
“I’m lost,” he said, wiping his nose with his wet
sleeve. “That’s why I’m sad. Why are you sad?”
“Oh,” she said, understanding the situation. “Oh,
it’s okay, you don’t have to be sad. Your mom will find you.”
“My mommy says if I get lost, I’m need to stay right
where I am until she finds me. Can I wait with you?” Without waiting for a
response, he climbed onto the bench and sat down next to Marcy. He hugged his
bear and looked at her. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, but you looked
sad so I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Smiling to herself, Marcy picked up
the red umbrella, shook out the rain water in it, and held it over the two of
them.
“My name is Marcy, What’s your name?”
“Max. I like your name, it’s pretty.”
“Thank you, I
like your name too. What’s your bear’s name?”
“His name’s Blue, like his fur.”
“That’s a good name.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Max began to chant a string of other names he had
thought about naming the bear before he settled on Blue. Marcy already liked
this kid, but she had no idea what she was supposed to do in this situation.
Call 911? Find a police officer? She knew there was a mother somewhere out
there, freaking out and looking for her child. Max was right, they should stay
here. But surely there was something else she could do.
“Hey Max, what’s your mommy’s name?”
“I call her Mommy, but everyone else calls her
Stacy.”
“Does your mommy have a phone?”
“Yeah! I play games on it all time.”
“Do you know her number?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, how about you enter it into my phone and I’ll
try calling her.” Marcy handed Max her phone and he slowly typed in a number
Marcy prayed was actually his mother’s. She pressed call and after one ring,
the call was answered.
“Hello?” she sounded frantic, almost out of breath.
“Hi, is this Stacy?”
“Yes.”
“I think I may have found your son.”
Marcy went on to explain how she had found Max and
told the panicked mother their location. Max took the phone and talked to his
mom about his new friend, and how she was lost too. Much to Marcy’s
embarrassment, Max asked if they could help Marcy find her mommy so she
wouldn’t be lost anymore. There was laughter from the other end and a promise
to be there soon, then she hung up. Stacy was not too far away, and she would
be there in a few minutes.
Meanwhile, Marcy and Max sat on the bench, huddled
under the red umbrella. “What do you want to be when you grow up, Max?” asked
Marcy.
“An astronaut” he said. “It’s the best job you can
have because you get to ride in a rocket ship. That or a baseball player. I
like baseball. My mommy takes me to games sometimes. What do you want to be
when you grow up?”
Marcy smiled at Max, about to say she was already
grown up and had a job. But she stopped herself. Almost two months ago, Marcy
had lost her job. It was nothing but a dull, office job but it paid the rent.
She had been on her way home from a terrible interview she knew she’d blown
when she’d abandoned her trip home to take a walk in the park. Marcy thought she was already grown up, but
Max’s question unexpectedly confused her and she had no idea how to answer him.
“I don’t know Max, I’m still deciding.”
“You better figure it out, you’re almost grown now.”
Marcy didn't say anything, but she felt the familiar
rumbling of her phone in her pocket and knew it was Bill again. She was
supposed to meet Bill, her landlord, today to talk about the payment she missed
last month. He was part of the reason she wasn't going home. She ignored his
call again.
Max was right, she needed to get her life figured
out. He had been right when he first saw her too. She was lost. No job, and
soon to be homeless, Marcy was more lost that Max was. She’d moved to New York
right after college, determined to live out her dream. She had majored in
Journalism, and had plans of becoming a writer for one of the many newspapers
or magazines based in New York, but she’d only been able to find work as a nine
to five receptionist for a real estate company. The company downsized, and she
was one of the first employees to go. She’d
used up any money she saved just trying to survive and now she couldn't afford
her apartment.
Down the sidewalk, through the rain, a women came
running. She ignored the pelting drops of water and pushed through the storm. She
yelled “Max!” and Max jumped up and ran to her. They hugged and Marcy smiled at
them from the bench.
Coming over to Marcy, Stacy held Max’s hand and
thanked Marcy repeatedly.
“It’s no problem, really, I’m just glad I could
help.” Marcy said.
“We have to help Marcy find her mommy now.” Max
said. Stacy giggled a little and gave Marcy a confused look.
“I told him I was lost too, that why he keeps saying
that. I was trying to make him feel better and not so alone.”
“Oh, okay, well thank you again.” Stacy said, and
she and Max walked away down the street, hand in hand.
It was still raining and there seemed to be no end
in sight. Marcy peaked out from beneath her umbrella and watched the rain fall
from the sky. The gray clouds seemed endless. Marcy knew it was probably the
smarter and more mature decision to head home rather than to stay out there in
the rain, but she couldn't make herself get off the bench. Her phone buzzed in
her pocket, and it was Bill. She ignored him again. She wasn't sure how long
she could avoid her problems, but that’s what she had come to this park to do
in the first place.
She wanted
her mom to come running down the sidewalk to solve all her problems and then hold
her hand as they walked to a warm home. Getting up from the bench on her own
would mean going back to a nearly empty apartment, an angry Bill waiting
outside her door. It meant countless pointless interviews for jobs that had
fifty other contenders who were way more qualified than her. It meant probably taking
a job selling tickets for the subway or cleaning bird poop off the benches. It
meant possibly moving away to start over. All of these things were
responsibilities Marcy no longer wanted to shoulder. So she sat under her red
umbrella, waiting in the rain for her problems to be solved. The rain
continued, the day moved on, and Marcy waited.
The sounds of the storm only drowned out Marcy’s cry for help and no one
came to her rescue. She was lost, but being found wasn't as simple as finding
an adult.
Marcy sat on the bench for hours. As the sun started
to set, the rain finally let up. A red and pink sunset replaced the gray the
sky and Marcy finally folded the umbrella. He clothes were mostly dry now, and
her hair was messy but not wet. Leaving the umbrella by the bench, Marcy stood
up and walked back towards the subway station. The storm had passed, and it was
time to face the world again. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and finally
made a call,
“Hi Bill, I know we were supposed to meet today, but
there was this kid…”
