The escort1It was drizzling, and I was running back slowly along the same road where the dog had attacked me earlier. An old lady, over seventy years old, was standing on the sidewalk. Her umbrella was a plastic garbage bag. When she saw me she shouted, “Hey, stop!”
I said to myself, “O God, another old lady!” But I am obedient, so I stopped. There was a red light there, and I enjoyed stopping and resting at the red light. Sometimes even at a green light I enjoy rest.
The old lady said to me, “Do you know the Grand Central Parkway?”
I said, “Isn’t the Grand Central right here?”
She said, “No! What do you know?”
There were many cars coming by and she asked me, “Can you come with me?” I thought that she was asking me to carry her bag, so I said, “I will gladly carry it.”
I was observing her to see if she was really crazy. I felt sorry for her. Perhaps she felt sorry for me. When I took her to the other side of the Grand Central, she just stood there. I didn’t know if anything was going on inside her mind. She was not smiling, but at least she didn’t scold me.
RB 56. 11 August 1979↩