Archive | March, 2019

Punctuation.

30 Mar

Christian is an eighth grader from Chino Hills, California who tops out somewhere under four feet. One might easily overlook him as one certainly looks over him anyway until his wry little comments draw your eyes down to his big brown puppy dog saucers framed by the longest lashes ever visited upon man, woman, or drag queen. He’s learned well and young those eyes let him get away with murder.

His squeaky voice pierced a thousand moments over the last three days always preceded by, “Hey JEFF!” with the surprising confidence an elf might possess, possessed as elves often are with otherworldly charms. One wonders.

This morning he climbed the corner of St. Patrick’s Cathedral screaming “Hey JEFF! I’m taller than you finally! I can see your bald spot.”

As I don’t have a bald spot I yelled back, “Get down off of there you idiot. The last thing we need is to lose a Christian on a cathedral.”

He settled down next to me on the stairs while we waited for stragglers.

The car traffic was a bit of a shit show. At one point a car stalled on 51st Street and the impatience erupted with a woman laying on her horn for a good seven seconds and then driving up on to the sidewalk to get around.

I hear from my left and down, “SOMEBODY just got their period.”

How he managed to have me hear that and not one single one of the other twenty people seated directly all around us was a bit of witchcraft in and of itself.

But later on, as we were leaving the Tenement Museum and I was swiping Metro Cards to get them all on the F Train, I got a series of text messages in quick succession.

Stop.

Don’t get on a train.

Still at Museum.

Minor Emergency.

I told the group to wait for me on the other side of the turnstiles and walked back to the museum.

“Sorry Jeff,” the lovely teacher said. “One of the girls had to go to the bathroom.”

“Why didn’t she use it before?” I asked.

The teacher looked at me with the universal “stupid boys” and explained, “Because something happened to her that had never happened before and she didn’t know what to do.”

Still seeing the blank look on my face she simply said with a little emphasis, “It’s hard being a girl, Jeff.”

I ran back to the subway to keep the natives quiet and so the young woman (now) didn’t have another set of knowing eyes on her, but I could tell the science of the day was swift.

Apparently another flurry of text messages preceded my arrival because as I looked over the turnstiles, there was Christian, his arms crossed, shaking his head “yes” at me until he burst out laughing.

The kid has powers…

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