Ginny and I
rode the subway from Brooklyn to Manhattan. We exited the tunnel,
burst into bright sunshine, and began to cross the Manhattan Bridge
into lower Manhattan. Through the windows, we watched the city grow
larger. Skyscrapers
stretched to
the scattered clouds above them. It was intimidating – miles of
buildings – a wall of concrete and glass.
The river fell
below and behind us. We plunged underneath the city and to our
transfer point at West 4TH street. We walked off the
train and looked around. The station had three levels of tracks –
all underground. "Which way do we go?" I asked.
We climbed the
stairs to the next level. Ginny pointed. "Look! There’s a subway map
over there." Ginny pointed.
"I see it."
We walked up to
the six-foot high display with the map of the New York City subway
on it. Colored lines, indicating the various subway lines,
crisscrossed the map. It looked like someone had spilled
multicolored spaghetti over the face of it. I found the dark orange
line that marked the "D" train we’d rode from Brooklyn and followed
it with my finger.
"What are you
doing?" Ginny asked.
"I’m trying to
find this station on the map."
"Do you think
that big red circle with the ‘You are here’ sign in the middle might
be a clue?"
"Oh! You could
be right." We burst into hysterics.
That moment has
been a joke between us for years. Whenever I’m upset over something
I can’t find, Ginny says, "Do you think the big red circle might be
a clue." We laugh again. I relax and find my goal.
I recently lost
my job. As I search the internet for work, I wonder where my map is.
Which way do I go from here? Where’s the red circle with the arrow
telling me, "You are here".
