"A God Thang"

When I go to the library, Valarie still was not there. However there was a young Asian man standing by all her belongings. I asked him if he had seen an old woman. He responded that she had gone to Burger King, and he had promised to watch her things until she got back. I asked him how long ago she left - two hours. "You've been standing here for two hours?!" He said that when he promises someone something, he sees it through. He also said that he was quite concerned about her, that she did not seem in good health. I told him that I was sure that she was fine as I had waited for her last night, and she had not returned; obviously, she takes off periodically. We agreed that he would go to BK and check on her as I stood guard over her blankets, bags and vermin friends.

About 45 minutes later, I see them across 5th Avenue. He is practically carrying her. When they finally got to the library side of the street, Valarie spotted me, "Kim!" I said, "Valarie, what's going on? What is wrong with you?" She shook her left wrist up in the air, "I was in the hospital. See my bracelets?"

Evidently, she tried to get up on Thursday and could not walk. A bystander called 911, and an ambulance took her to Bellevue. By Friday morning, she had been discharged and brought back to the library.

The next part is a bit foggy as it went fast. I am not naive woman. I am not a stupid woman. However, I am an impulsive woman. Maybe impulsive is the wrong word as I had been thinking about what I did next all week.

Michael, this lovely young man continued to say that he really wanted to help her. I asked him how he knew her. He said that he didn't. Like me, he was just drawn off his Christmas shopping path to speak with her. He is a web designer who lives in Queens and works in midtown. I said to him, "So, if you want to hop into this with me, I am ready to commit to getting her off the street." He confessed, "In my culture, we take care of our elderly. I am in." We agreed that it was not a random act that we were drawn into the Valarie web and that we were partners in getting her off the street. It was a "God Thang."

Supposedly, Valarie has an assistance check coming General Delivery to the post office on Monday. She needs any money she can get. Unfortunately, my flight is at 6 am on Monday. Michael said that he would get her to the post office and then to Amtrak in the afternoon. I then asked Valarie, "What do you think about going home with me?" She and I had an honest conversation about whether or not she really wanted off the streets. I had made many calls and could not locate any relatives. So, if she came to SD it would be to restart her life comfortably inside. She finally said, "I think that sound nice."

I decided that I would take her back to my apartment, and Michael assured me that he would come and get her on Monday. He would have to lock up my apartment. My plan was to give him the directions as to what to do with the key via phone later in the weekend. I got his number and then went down to the street to get a cab.

It is 5 pm on 5th Ave and 42nd Street the Friday before Christmas. Empty cabs just do not exist. Phantom cabs are unmarked luxury vehicles that roam the streets of nyc trying to pick up passengers but at a much higher cost. Most wave them off. Unfortunately, after an hour of waving for a yellow cab and waving off phantoms, I gave in. "How much to get me to the West Village." $45 was the answer. No way! Typically, this is a $15 (gratuity included) ride. I tell the next phantom, "Listen, I got a homeless woman here that I am taking home to get off the streets. Show me some Christmas cheer and give me a break." Nice thought - no deal. I ask 3 more phantom cabs. Finally one said, "$25." Sold.

I do not think the cabbie took me seriously, until I told him to please pop the trunk as we has a lot of luggage. Michael and I shook everything with vigor as I did not want any mice as visitors. I know Diego and Joe would have loved one as a Christmas playmate, but there is a limit to my generosity. Once we got everything loaded up (included Valarie who can barely stand) We were on our way to my apartment. I think I actually said "I am an idiot" outloud as I sat in the backseat with my new SD travel partner. The Lord knows I was certainly thinking it.

Our driver could not believe what I was doing. He asked again and again if we were telling the truth. Valarie said, "It is my lucky day. My friend Kim is my angel. She is taking me home to SD." By the time we got to the Village, we had learned that his name was Richardo and he was from Milan, Italy. This city of nine million stories. He asked us about ours; we gave him the short and condensed version.

When we arrived at 55 Morton, Richardo basically carried Valarie to the door. He helped me with all our bags and then looked right at me and said, "This is good thing that you are doing." He was crying. He kissed me on both cheeks, hugged me hard and refused payment. God is hard at work here.

My door man Bkem acted like this was an everyday occurrence. He assisted in getting everything upstairs before wishing me goodbye and good luck. I will not see him again before I leave.

I left most of Valarie's things in the hallway as I needed to run to work but wanted to spray them for lice before bringing it into the apartment. I got her settled on the couch with a blanket and the remote and dashed to the subway. I had 27 minutes to get to the theatre.

I waited forever at the Christopher Street station. Once I got in the train, it stopped for 20 minutes between the 23rd and 28th Street stops. It was obvious the show was going to have to go on without me. There was nothing I could do. This lady next to me was really agitated by the whole delay. I said, "Do you want to hear a story while we wait?" She looked hesitantly at me but said, "Why not?" I told her about my last couple of hours and asked her if she thought I was insane. "No. Not at all. I believe that the world works in a way that if we just would listen to each other, there would be such a better balance. Thank you for choosing to speak to me. I have no reason to hurry, so being disgusted about being stuck here is silly." I told her that I did have somewhere that I was suppose to be, and that people would be angry. However, it wasn't world peace and the show would go on. We shared a deep relaxing sigh and smiled.

I ran like the devil once I emerged from the 56th Street stop...in high heels. The show had already started. Megan was thrown in to replace me at the last minute. Once I caught my breath, I told those from the Women's Project working the lobby what had happened. I was a bit disappointed in their reaction. It was almost as if they were sharing a secret that went something like..."oh, that silly naive girl from SD." I know the difference between naivete and doing the right thing. How sad that their naivete of their own potential for changing others lives may never be realized.

When the show was over, I apologized to the actors. They were so supportive and told me to get home as quickly as possible. Rebecca just masked her annoyance with a passive smile and nod.

Valarie was sleeping when I got home. I had stopped by Duane Reade to pick up lice soap and the grocery story to get dinner supplies. Other than sandwiches, this meal of spaghetti was the first and only I made in my kitchen the entire 3 months. We enjoyed hot cider together as I continued to ask Valarie questions about her past.

I got her bathed and to the bathroom which was difficult because of the state of her legs and feet. Between helping my dad after his colostomy and Valarie, I am handling the realities of the human body like a pro...if I do say so myself! :)

I called my niece Dr. Melissa as I was really concerned about Valarie. He legs were so bloated that she could not stand even the slightest touch. The skin was pulled so taunt that they looked like cellophane. Also, huge water blisters had appeared all over. Mel confirmed that she needed medical attention. Valarie insists that if she just had wheat germ oil and vitamins, it would take care of itself. I decided we would meet half way and make a decision after a good night rest...who was I kidding?

Valarie groaned and cried in her sleep all night as she was in so much pain. At 6 am I heard her calling my name. She needed to go to the bathroom. It was obvious I was in over my head. Not only does she have incontinence, but her legs were turning blue and the blood vessels above her right eye had popped. I called 911.

To say Valarie was mad at me is a severe understatement. This was the first time that I had seen any sort of mental limitations. She refused to go. She told the police officers that I had brought her to my apartment under false pretenses. She refused to go to the hospital as doctors know nothing. She did have point when she told them that she had just been in the hospital, and they told her they could not help her. I could understand her skepticism. We (the police and the EMTs) assured her that she would now be taken to St. Vincent's which is not a state hospital but instead religiously affiliated; they would take better care of her. She practically hissed at me as we all tried to convince her that we all had her best interest at heart. About the third time she told them that I had held her there against her will, the cop said, "Well, if you are going to be held hostage, this beautiful apartment in the West Village with this nice lady would be my pick."

They finally had to basically physically force her in the ambulance. It was heartbreaking.

I tried to go back to bed as I got little sleep. I decided that I would wait a day to visit her as she was really upset with me. Hopefully a little time would heal that.