DO UNTO OTHERS

He’s going to get me. I know he is. I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. But I’m ready, ready to give him a run for his money.I’ve got a few slick tricks of my own that will get him off my tail.

It’s cold out. Ice is on the sidewalks. The streets are slushy. I walk cautiously but get splashed and slip in the middle of the street. My scream reaches him I am sure yet I sense him backing off. Two men who I had noticed walking hand in hand stop, help me up. Nothing is broken. I am okay.

Santa, a much too skinny Santa, rings his bell. His thin, shrill voice blows away in the wind. ‘Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas!’ In gratitude for not being killed I take a five dollar bill from my purse and drop it in the black kettle. I don’t stay to watch if it stays there or goes slyly into a pocket of his too big suit. Trick #1 and I can breathe a little easier.

Macy’s walls are bulging but that doesn’t stop me. I still have a few gifts to get. Easy pickings on the first floor. Passion eau de toilette for Jane and a rhinestone cross on a silver chain for Molly. On the way to the escalator I, and others, see a little girl, no more than 3 years old, wandering around alone. Nobody cares–except me. Baby tears run down her cheeks. I am the first to reach her, hold her hand, give her a hug. ‘What’s your name?’ I ask. ‘Suzy.’ ‘Do you know your other name?’ ‘No, It’s too hard.’ I’m worried about this blond angel, wonder why her mother didn’t teach her not to go with strangers. ‘Let’s go over to that pretty lady behind the counter. She has a phone and I’ll have her find your mommie. She must be looking all over for you. We’ll find her.’ Suzy stoops crying when her mother’s voice rings out from the intercom system. ‘Suzy, stay with the nice lady who found you.’ Mother and wandering daughter are united. I buy her a child’s bracelet made of papier mache’ and wave good-bye. My follower is not around. Trick 2.

In the Woman’s over-size department my eyes spot a stack of V neck sweaters, XL. In the middle is a lavender one, Mabel’s favorite color. A fatsybumbalatze woman takes off the first 4 sweaters and is about to take the only lavender, when I grab it like my life depended on my having it. Wow! What a dirty look I get! I snottily take it to the cashier and give the angry lady the finger. Damn, I was good. My face starts to get warm. My hair accumulates electricity, crackles.

I am about done and head for the down escalator. A line to go downstairs? Yikes. I spent so much time with the little girl, I might miss the 8:30 bus back to Hanover. With no apologies I fake a limp, hold my packages close to my body, and get right on.

The automatic exit door opens and I step out into the refreshing cold air, but am not cold. There is a fire behind me. Something is burning. It’s red and it’s not another Santa Claus. This person, this thing, has black eyes and claws instead of hands. The ‘it’ has a tail and it is out to get me.

Across the busy street is the Lady of Lourdes Catholic Church. I aim for it. The traffic light is against me. I dart in and out. Horns honk. The red thing is catching up to me. I step over the curb, kneel down on the cold sidewalk. My packages scatter. Molly’s gift just about jumps in my hand. I hold the cross to my heart and the red thing goes up in smoke. Inside the beautiful church , I light a candle, put a $10 bill in the contribution box, sit down in the back row and give thanks, pray the only way I know,

‘Shema, Israel, Adenoi, Elohanyu....Trick 3