“You’re not thinking of jumping, are ya?”
It’s barely light when I climb onto the running track that surrounds the Central Park Reservoir, named for Jackie O who used to circle it, just like I’m about to do.
There’s hardly a soul in sight, except for a middle-aged man in a cheap, wrinkled suit, smoking, looking into the distance from the deepest spot of the reservoir. Occasionally you’ll see flowers leaning against the fence in memory of a past jumper.
He ignores my question, so I ask again, “You’re not thinking of jumping, right?”
“What’s it to you,” he says with what sounds like a Romanian lilt. “Can’t a man just stand here and have a quiet smuke?”
Technically, it’s illegal to smuke in the park, but don’t mention this since I see, all is not well with the Marlboro Man.
“I don’t want to intrude on your peace but, I’m not so sure you’re just having a quiet smoke. Are you okay?”
“Me okeey…OKEEY?” This seems funny to him. “I’m anything but okeey, so what?”
I ask myself, why must I be so conscious of others, because now I’m hooked into his plight with no plan to speak of. I then remember what a friend of mine says whenever she has a dilemma. Unlike me, very Catholic, she’ll think, What would Jesus do?
Well, Jesus must have been late a lot since he was always stopping to help someone. Feed them, clothe them, throw in a miracle here and there. Yes, Jesus was never on time, like me, who is supposed to meet another friend for coffee.
If he were here, Jesus would say, “So, got another smuke?” His sandals leaving footprints on the track.
Then he’d ask the guy’s name, something I finally do, forgetting my manners.
“Mac, ma name’s Mac.”
“Jesus, I mean Susannah, I’m Susannah,” I say, coming out of my biblical reverie.
“Mac, just spill it. What’s wrong. Money matters? Women? Are you wanted by the cops?”
Who the fuck was I channeling?
“Money, let’s begin with that. I’m bruke. I’m so bruke I can’t make ma bills. Am just sick and tired of Amurica. Came here for a better life, and it ain’t no better.
“Things have a way of changing,” I say, “they do. One minute life’s bad, the next better. I know all about this having ongoing money issues myself.”
“Well I got a weefe who weeps and weeps.”
“Where is she now?”
“Sleepin, like moost sane people.”
I took umbrage at moost sane people, but did that stop me?
“Got any money on you at all?”
“Why, you need a loon?”
I laugh despite the absurdity of the situation.
“No, just asking.”
“Two bucks.”
“Well, I’ve got three. How bout I give it to you, and you can go to the vendor right along Fifth, and get a coupla coffees and surprise your wife.”
It wasn’t easy giving up my donut money, but shit, that’s what Jesus would’a done. Right? Damn that Jesus.
“Da ya always bother people this weey. Like, it’s none of your business what I’m doin.”
“You’re right. But, I hadda stop anyway. Just can’t help myself. I hope you don’t jump, honestly, cause then when things get better you won’t be here.”
I give him the three bucks, stuff them in his front pocket, then take my leave.
“Hey Miss…you’re not gonna jump are ya?”
At least he had a sense of humor.
I wave, say a Hail Mary for the hell of it, trying not to turn around, but do anyway when I see Mac, exiting by the Metropolitan Museum, that leads to the vendor.
“Well done,” said Jesus.
“Yeah yeah.”
SB
And we’ll done says Anne!
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So does that mean you know Jesus personally? Wouldn’t surprise me. The piece was a little long. Try to keep them at the 500 words mark but well, Jumpin Mac got away from me. Sigh
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Yes, he loves me. Your post didn’t seem long. It was riveting. I have never paid attention to the length of posts, but long ones could turn people off, I guess.
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We try, to quote the Writer’s Bible, The Elements Of Style…omit needless words…we try but not always succeed. Sigh
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I think you used just the right number of words to tell the story.
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Thanks. I did edit but…I feel less is more in blog world. We try. It’s just important to write. It feels as if your brain is doing laps. But you already know that, fellow scribe. 🙂
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I wish brain laps burned calories. I’d be happy to write all day long.
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That’s so funny. Sigh
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Susannah, how do you seem to always know the right thing to do or say? I would have probably just agitated the man until he decided not to jump, but push me in instead.
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Oh, he was agitated alright. But I’m like a moth you can’t catch. I just couldn’t go by without saying anything. Now, if he were standing at any other spot, it would have been different. But it’s a famous perch for the sad and despairing. Oh Skinny. Our world is in such chronic pain.
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We’re all in this together Jey Jey (that is my hip name for you when you channel Jesus). Honestly, a little validation that we’re not alone goes a long way, or in this case, saves a life. I feel you’re on to something about Jesus being late, perhaps that’s why people don’t take time to stop, they’re always in a hurry to do nothing of substance.
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Love…nothing of substance. Let’s make T-shirts and send them to those we don’t like. How many should we order? 300 enough ya think Top? 🙂
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What Would Jey Jey Say?
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Oh, shut the fuck up if you can’t take a joke. 🙂
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Hahaha! Now there’s a t-shirt! Along with “Unless you’re transporting and organ or on you way to solve world peace stick that horn up your ass.”
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Let’s get bumper stickers too…okay?
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I’m in!
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Ok. Ask V if she wants to be a silent partner. We’ll cut her in. 🙂
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Sometimes little gestures make a big difference. Jey Jey would be so proud!
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Said, the late, not always so great Thingirl.
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You’re showing your Catholic sweet side, your CT of course.
Hal
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It’s like a tick, what can I say Hal. It’s right up there with croquet and seersucker…:)
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Great story. Such is your life.
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Sometimes I feel like a raw nerve. I know despair so I can see it, like fog around someone. I cant fathom what it’s like to be unconscious. Sigh. Thanks.
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Forget jesus. You’re a real person, offering real support to other real people, with real problems. That’s really neat. Well done Susannah.
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Oh, Jesus made it more global. He’s a rock star to the masses, remember Mick. It all came down to, shall I jump or have coffee. 🙂
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No contest! Keep up the good work.
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I saw the comment icon and knew it was you. With the exception of sandals, me and JC don’t have much in common. Well, there were those loaves and fishes. 🙂
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He’s just a circular argument in wistful thinking. If you attribute everything that’s good to J.H.C. (surprise, surprise) he looks pretty good. The Devil has the same problem in reverse. Neither are useful or meaningful. You are both useful and meaningful.
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Okeey, as Jumpin Mac Flash would say. 🙂
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