The Red Umbrella

          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…”