I'm sitting at one of three stop-lights in town. Waiting for the light to change. Out the corner of my eye I see somebody try to open the passenger door. Holy shit! There's a eighty year old woman standing in the street, trying to get in my car!
The light goes green. Fuck! I can't just take off with her fumbling with the door handle. I lower the window. M'am? M'am?
No use. I put it in park and walk around. People are getting pissy behind me.
M'am, let me get the door for you.
I open the door and guide her in, run around the car, pull across the intersection and over to the curb.
She's looking around, taking this in. Finally, she says, this isn't Randy's car.
I take this as my cue. Were you looking for Randy? Who is Randy?
Randy has a silver car. Like mine. I go around and help her out of the car. We're heading back up the street looking for silver cars. Nothing.
We get back to my car. There's a guy in a grey pick-up parked in front of me. Silver. Grey. Maybe she's confused. I rap on the passenger window. Buddy lowers the window. Pardon me, but do you know this lady?
Nope. I explained the predicament. I'm just trying to get across town and now I got this problem. His suggestion? Just leave her on the sidewalk and drive away. Alberta plates on that truck. Figures.
Anyway, I couldn't do it, and me and M'am are shuffling up the street again, arm in arm, me feeling a twitch of desperation, her having a lovely walk down the street. A woman just crossing at the light is staring at us. Ruth? M'am is squinting at her. Hellen!
THANK GOD!!!
So Hellen drove Ruth downtown to go to the bank. Hellen is Ruth's daughter-in-law. Married to Ruth's son Randy. Let her out and went to find a parking space, thinking they'd meet up at the bank. That was a half hour ago.
That's what can happen when you're eighty. Lost in the downtown of your home town.
No comments:
Post a Comment