Pedestrian

Kari felt herself being jerked and shoved down the sidewalk by the teeming crowd. The wave of humanity had swallowed her up several blocks before, when she had been trying to keep up with her sisters, Madge and Deera, older by 4 and 6 years. At the pedestrian crosswalk, Kari had looked away for just an instant, and by then it was too late.

Kari, 4-years-old, was just 39-inches tall and weighed but a scant 35 lbs, soaking wet. It was small wonder that she was being bundled along so. She thought to stop her forward motion, but was rebuffed in her efforts by the punching of the knees of the man behind her. She hurried to regain her speed. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw the man’s shoes: they looked two feet long! She accelerated her pace some more.

She listened, but the mob of people was relatively silent. No happy talk, no chatter like she experienced on the school bus to pre-school each morning. Were these people all angry? she wondered.

The crowd halted again. Kari looked up and saw the cartoonish stoplights which loomed over every street corner. When would this strange excursion end? she wondered bleakly. She couldn’t go on forever. She could strike out on her own, but she felt an odd comfort in the familiairity she shared with these strangers. And where were her sisters? She tried looking over her shoulder, but was shoved back into line by the hard, unforgiving knees of those behind her.

A thuddering crash from overhead, and the sky opened up to a drenching rainfall. Instantly dozens of embrellas popped open, but Kari had none. She proceeded to get soaked. As the promenade continued, attendees came and went, exiting and entering taxis and buses and emerging from and dropping into the trains in the subway. Kari looked up, had no idea where she was.

They halted at yet another pedestrian walkspace–the sixth, seventh?–and Kari felt the fatigue of overtaxed 4-year-old muscles. She looked up at those in the train and didn’t recognize any of them from when she started out. What could she do? she wondered again. She thought about what he older sister Deera might do. “Pitch a fit,” urged Deera in her ear. “No one can just stand by when a little girl freaks out.”

So Kari did. As the crowd moved forward, she halted in her tracks, was instantly assaulted by the impatient knees of those behind her. She abruptly fell hard to the ground. She cried out. Ooh, good, she thought. This was so much better. A screaming child was one thing, but a child sprawled out on the wet pavement was something else again. Like magic, the crowd halted. Several adults observed Kari owlishly, then stepped over her and proceeded on their way. Far more of them, however, stopped to see if she were okay.

“Hey,” rapped a voice belonging to a man with sharp knees, “this little girl has fallen. Who’s her parent?” he demanded. Others stood around, uncertainly, as if they’d never noticed Kari before.

“That’s her mother,” said another man, pointing to a tall, willowy blonde.

“No,” said the willowy one, “she’s not mine. I never saw her before. Let’s ask her. Honey,” she said, kneeling down and helping Kari to her feet, “where’s your mama?”

Kari, always pleased by being the center of attention, contemplated briefly whether she should start crying, in order to sell it. She decided not too. “I don’t know,” she said miserably. “I was walking with my sisters back there,” and she pointed back the way they’d come, “and then they were gone.”

“What’s your name, Baby?” asked the thin blonde, who had assumed control of the situation. Kari gave her name. “Do you know your telephone number?” asked the nice woman.

Kari turned up her tiny clutch and handed it over. The woman opened it up and found Kari’s contact info. The woman pulled out her cell and punched in the number.

________

40 minutes later found Kari’s mother, Marsha, flustered and making apologies to the willowy blonde, who turned out to be a nice woman named Francine Levy.

“I can’t tell you how I appreciate your kindness, Francine,” said Marsha as the three sat before an ice cream pushcart a half block from where Kari had been discovered. The rain had stopped, the clouds dispersed and the sun shined down brightly. “When my other daughters returned without Kari, I was aghast. They were only a block away when she disappeared. It was like a nightmare; you dream about it, but never expect it to happen to you.”

“Did your other children explain how it happened?” asked Francise, 

lapping at a cherry cone.

Marsha shook her head. “One second she was there, the next she was gone,” she said. “Deera has always been very responsible,” she said. “Things just got out of hand…I don’t know, I suppose that’s too much responsibility for a 10-year-old. During the school year it’s a lot easier to keep track of them, since every minute is structured and chaperoned.”

“Fortunately, you had Kari’s contact info on her,” said Francine, smiling at Kari and stroking her  dark hair.

“Well, I can’t thank you enough for calling,” said Marsha. “Do you have children?” she asked.

Francine shook her head. “Not yet. But, when I do,” she said wistfully, “I like the name Kari.”

Kari beamed.

The adults said their goodbyes.

“Ready to go, Gumdrop?” Marsha asked her daughter.

Kari nodded, took a final bite of ice cream.

“You be careful in future, girl,” said her mother. “Otherwise I might have to put you on a leash.”

Kari’s eyes sprang open wide in alarm, but then she realized her mother was only teasing.

“Why did you fall and call out?” asked Marsha.

“I just did what Deera said to do,” revealed Kari, recounting her sister’s advice to “pitch a fit.”

“Deera had a point,” conceded Marsha. “It’s always the squeaky wheel that gets the grease. But, you know you can always contact a policeman, right, Honey?”

“I didn’t see any around,” said Kari. “An’ I was tired of walking.”

“I think you handled yourself very well,” said Marsha. “But, not every stranger is as nice as Francine,” Marsha pointed out.

“Are we goin’ home now?” asked Kari.

“Uh huh.”

“Can we take a taxi?” the 4-year-old asked..

“Uh huh, I think you’ve rather overplayed your pedestrian gig for one day.”

And they caught the next Yellow Cab home.