4013
Pt. 1
Over the last six or eight years, I have walked out my front door about 4am, and either jumped on my bicycle, or begun walking, mostly the former, rather than the latter; depending on the state of repair of the former. While I cannot begin to tell you how many miles I have walked during that time period, I have biked roughly 13,000 miles, (or halfway around the world).
A woman standing in the landscaped area of a bank holding a leash attached to a small dog on the lower end, and singing (perhaps 'warbling' is the word) the eeriest song I think I have ever heard.
A young man limping along the sidewalk, cane in his hand. Pedaling past him, I paused and asked him where he had come from and where he was going. He told me that he'd been released from the county jail in a nearby city hours earlier, and that he was walking home. I replied that I'd be glad to pedal back to my house, retrieve my car, and meet him again a few minutes later; which I did. Stepping into the passenger side of my vehicle, he thanked me and guided me to his house; about three miles from where he got in.
A man, a woman, an intersection and a tractor trailer truck. I arrived at the intersection in time to see the man helping the woman into the side door, walking back around to the driver's side, he got in and drove away. In retrospect, it seemed to me that the woman had been a bit unwilling to get into the cab, (as if the driver had taken her by force off the sidewalk). I surmised (I hoped) that she had merely been driving the semi, was overcome with fatigue, and given the lack of traffic, they had decided to switch off at the intersection. Thankfully, I never saw anything in the newspapers about an abduction. (But, I have always wondered).
A possum which ran out in front of my bicycle. Throwing on the brakes I "did a Peter Pan" over the handlebars, and landed two arms, chest, stomach and two legs on the asphalt; convinced I had broken up something inside. (I tell people the flight was ecstatic, but the landing was pretty rude).
Stopping my bicycle at a stop sign, I prepared to cross a four laned highway. I looked to my right, and noticed a young man walking down the sidewalk; perhaps 50 feet away. I looked to my left, and back to my right, and the young fella had vanished "into thin air." There was an eight foot wall on his left which bordered a gated community. There was, as I have previously inferred, a lighted street on his right. I could only surmise that I had seen... an angel. Interestingly enough, a week or two later, a woman died in a one car crash at that intersection. I naturally wondered if perhaps I had witnessed the Death Angel doing a dry run. (When I told my grandson about this event, he replied, "You just saw some guy dressed up in an angel suit!)"
Pt. 2
And then tonight, well, it was much too early to ride my bike, about 1am, but I was craving a canned Coca-Cola. (The plastic bottled ones are virtually tasteless). I drove to "Circle K," and was informed they didn't sell the cold canned Coca-Cola's. Getting back in my car, I drove to "Racetrack," got out, and went in. Retrieving my bounty from the cold case, I walked up to the counter, paid for the two frigid cokes, (so cold I feared frostbite), and walked out of the store.
As I walked towards my vehicle, a slightly built woman approached me. She was wearing what I would describe as a white, flowery summer dress, thin shoulder straps, "V" neck, tight waist, and an "A" shaped skirt. She spoke.
"Hello Sir!"
Thinking she was either soliciting money or offering me a "trick," I said,
"Hello, what can I do for you?"
To which she said,
"Oh nothing" (and) "I was wondering why all those people are lined up like that," (which seemed to be a perfectly incoherent remark).
Not having a ready answer for the young woman, I simply replied,
"God bless you" (and with this, she blessed me in return).
Getting in my vehicle and driving the three or four miles back to my house, I could not stop thinking about the young lady. Walking in the front door, I sat down at my computer, Googled the number of the store, grabbed my phone, punched in the seven digits and reported the situation to the clerk. He assured me that he'd check on the seemingly incoherent or intoxicated lady.
I don't know if it's me, or if it's me, but...
it's crazy out there!!!
Post-script
When I was a 9th grade English class, our teacher taught us an old Irish poem.
"From ghosties and ghoulies and long legg-ed beasties
and things that go 'bump' in the night,
Good Lord, deliver us."
That just about covers it.
by William McDonald, PhD
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