23. September 2015 · Comments Off on Dumb Luck · Categories: NMM.Trajectory., Romancing the Edge

On Sunday I go to St. Mary’s Church by myself, since Muriel and Bill are Presbyterians but rarely go to church.

It is a long walk.  The sky is gray and threatening and I take an umbrella, but it is not raining.

A polished blue and white station wagon glides by and stops next to me.   A smiling golden haired young man leans out the window.

Where are you going?

I say St. Mary’s Church.

That’s on my way.  I can drop you off.

I get into the car and we go down the road.

He is dressed in his Sunday best.  I wonder whether he goes to Muriel’s church.

He looks over and says, don’t be all scrunched up by the door.

I’m okay.

Move closer, over here.

There is something in his voice that is a little too insistent.

I inch a little towards him and I put my umbrella between us.

Suddenly he makes a turn.

I tell him St. Mary’s is straight down the road.

I know.

Then  he turns again and we are at a huge construction site.  There are cranes, bulldozers and piles of building material all around us.

There is no one working here.

He stops the car.

Come closer to me.

I don’t move.

If you do what I say I won’t hurt you.

I don’t believe him.

He moves towards me.

His face has changed.  There is something in his eyes that is bewildering.

Why are you doing this?   You’re young and good looking.   Lots of girls would go out with you.

He stops.

I go on.  You don’t have to do this.

He still has that look but something in his eyes changed.

I go on.  What about love?

He turns his face away.  I can’t see his eyes.

Slowly he moves back behind the wheel and starts the car.

We arrive at the church.   We weren’t that far away.  Parishioners are everywhere.

I grab my umbrella.

Can I see you again?

Sure, I say, as I open the door and jump out.

Suddenly, he guns the car and speeds away.   At that, my knees buckle.  I stumble and I barely manage not to fall.

I slide into a back pew and sit down.

Only then I feel the terror.

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