Thursday, February 4, 2010


Abigail had heard me talk about the parks, and knew that nearly every Saturday morning, before the early afternoon meeting I would be in the park. She said she wanted to meet me there.

I told her that at about noon I would be by the pond where they sailed the model boats. I thought that if I were waiting for someone else this could be a setting for a love story, a place to start a fine future. Though certainly not with such as Abigail. I congratulated myself on being big spirited enough to see someone who repelled me.

She spotted me standing by the pond on this very clear late winter Saturday. She marched over, grey and stone faced, in badly fitting trousers and dirty running shoes. I waited for what she had to say, but she just stood there looking at me. I thought she might be silently screaming that I had what she needed and was withholding it from her. But I told myself this was silly projection.

On Sunday evening I went a little early to the Corlears meeting. Janet was there already waiting on a folding chair. I sat beside her and we chatted. As usual, she had a book for me, and I had one for her.

The following morning there was an angry letter from Abigail stuck to my mailbox in Chelsea. She had actually come to where I lived. The letter began, “Far be it from me to tell you who to sit beside….”

It was as if I were being stalked.

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