Friday, March 18, 2016

A Story From the Life of Nancy F. Ghostwritten by Sarah P.



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Photo courtesy of Nancy F.

Photo courtesy of Carter H.
A Story From the Life of Nancy F. Ghostwritten by Sarah P. The Grass is Not Always Greener on the Other Side


Most of us travel for the thrill of seeing new places and experiencing new environments, people, sights, and sounds.  The trips we plan can be dream trips and the outcomes, while memorable, not be exactly what we planned.

The streets of New York were packed with people. Alleys overflowed with people, others elbowing their way through the sea of faces and bodies. The shops displayed marked-up prices in anticipation of a profitable holiday season.

“All of these gift would cost half as much if we bought them at home,” Jim complained as we finished our Christmas shopping.

“But we’re in New York!,” I said as I looked through the windows of the decorated store fronts. “Plus the girls will be so happy with what we bring back.” We had gotten the girls each a pair of socks from Saks 5th Avenue and sweaters from Izod. I also got Lori a pair of jeans with crocodiles on them, and games from FAO Schwarz. We saw all of the most famous sights, from the bright lights of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center to the beautiful architecture of Radio City music hall.

The City was a cold, bright place and glittering snow covered the ground. The sun shone on the fur coats and cowboy boots that had swarmed the streets. Workers worked away from their suspended scaffoldings.

WOOOHHHHHHHH. The whistle at the top of the skyscraper rang.
“The noon bell I guess,” Nancy said as we walked past the construction site. Just after she said that, all the workers on the scaffolding brought out brass instruments.

“What are they doing?,” I heard Roby say was we watched them play the most beautiful Christmas carols.

“Hark the Herrrrrrlad Angels sing….”, Nancy and I sang along with the beautiful music coming from the gruff looking men at the top of the tower.

“Glory to the newborn king…”, we continued as we walked, heading for the Palace Theater.

The holiday trip was everything I imagined it would be: lights, early winter chill, bustling streets, and the sights, sounds, and aroma of Christmas at every glance.  It was perfect - until it wasn’t.

We’d just left the theatre where we saw Women of the Year. I was arm in arm with Jim. Nancy sauntered on the other side, and Roby beside her. We were on our way back to the Intercontinental hotel on west 44th street. A door swung opened and hit Jim in the face, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Oh my goodness!,” I said in a rush and Jim fell to the cold ground. A man came out of the door; he looked like he was disguised to be a homeless person. He wore a thick coat and had a long beard, but  didn’t smell alcohol or uncleanliness. Dirt covered his body, but not in the way that it looked set in, rather in a way that looked like someone had just thrown it over him. He stood there and looked at me, stared at me intently for a moment.

“Scram!,” Jim shouted at the man, and the guy took off running. Scared and paranoid, we walked quickly down the street. We decided to take a shorter way back to the hotel. From the previous encounter, we decided to play it safe and the take another way home. The homeless man was out of sight, but we didn’t want to take any chances.

“The hotel leads us straights to our street.” Nancy said, talking about the hotel we cut through to get out of the cold. Her blond hair stuck to her face from the snow, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“What ever way gets us away from that guy faster,” I told the group as we hurried toward the building.

Somehow, the homeless man managed to catch up with us in spite of our new route and quickened pace. Fear was all I could feel. I know Jim had my back, but I felt as though something awful was going to happen. “Someone is going to die,” I thought to myself, my hand intertwined with Jim’s. The homeless man's eyes bore a holes through mine, as if there was something I had done, something I was guilty of, or something I should have been guilty of.

Upon entering the pass-through building - the one that would lead us directly to our street -  we got on the escalator, about two stories high.  We had a minute to stop and as we looked around, we were suddenly aware we were very underdressed. Our casual clothes did not fit in with the ballroom crowd. A ball had been going on in the ballroom, on the bottom floor of the hotel. Beautiful ladies in beautiful dresses made of lace, silk, velvet. They were the most beautiful gowns I had ever seen.
“Wow,” Nancy and I said in unison.

I had no idea how the homeless man caught up with us. His figure hovered menacingly at the top of the escalator. I stood in panic, my hand tight in Jim's as we continued upward, right into the line of this frightening stranger. There was no place to go - except maybe an obscure hallway we saw at the last minute. It was lined with Christmas trees. Jim stepped in front of me. The man met us at the top of the escalator.
“Maybe we can go down the hallway with the trees,” I thought to myself, not daring to say anything in fear of the man. Again, he stared at me intently. Jim's hands collided with the man’s chest shoving him away.

“It's not her. I’m sure it's not her” a voice sounded from the hallway, its owner obscured by the trees. Both men took off down the hallway. Time stood still.  In a moment, sheer panic was replaced with a wave of relief and then fatigue set in.

“That was creepy,” Roby said anticlimactically (and in Roby’s deadpan style), making sure Nancy was close to him.

The walk back was silent, we did not want to make any noise in fear of what might happen.

“Who do you think they were?,” Nancy asked when we got back to the hotel.

“I hope they were police. If not, well, lets just be grateful that none of us are dead,” I said, too exhausted from what had happened to say another word.
The sun came up on a new day in the big apple, but we were finished. My dream trip had a little more drama than I bargained for, but it was indeed memorable. Before we knew it, we were on a plane back to Columbus, Christmas gifts in tow, and lots of exciting stories to tell.