The Lady in the Square

There was not a lot of joy in my hometown that day. I was a student, and I had to use the downtown core in order to earn some extra money for my studies. And it was a beautiful day in the city. The sun had hit us with more heat than we deserved, but I still had to dress fairly conservatively for my work (I was a runner at the library and would be brought to different floors to return and restack books, handle damaged material, and generally assure others that the library had no disturbances that did not require the security guards I never saw). That must have been the reason why there were so many conferences and meetings in our city. I knew vaguely of the gatherings at the convention centre and could see the people who huddled in the lobby of the hotel that was attached to the mall. But it had nothing to do with me or my work…or so I thought.

There were many international meetings and conferences that were taking place all over this region. I could see the lanyards with the enclosed titles and names on them as I walked through the mall. A part of me wanted to know more about what was happening, but I realized that I would probably not be very interested in the main topic of their sessions, or there might be the bigger problem of not being able to understand the various languages used during these events. One thing did stand out for me: I wanted to get away from my city. I was already tired of being a student at the school I had chosen for me, and I just wanted to see anything beyond the usual bus routes, roads, buildings and even people I worked with and knew from school. I was hungry for experiences that would take me out of the simple suburban to urban life that many people in my city lived. There seemed to be no way out unless I found the money from a generous donor or worked even longer hours and found myself longing and longing for a life that would grow out of reach year by year. Very cynical, perhaps, but the time I spent in school and the work that I did proved that certain dreams were not going to become reality unless some wheel of fortune turned in my favour.

This was the mood I had as I walked through one busy pathway to the library. I was actually looking forward to the work, if not the people who would be supervising us. Some people took it as an opportunity to boss us around beyond the responsibilities we had to do our regular duties. I was hopeful that I would only be handling books and clearing desks and tables during my shift. And I knew that I would need something special before I got to the third or fourth floor that day. The United Cigar Store was one of my favourite stops between things and I looked for a snack.

‘Excuse me?’

I was standing with my back to the voice, about to head in when I heard it. I turned and saw a small lady with a very nice dress and jewels standing with her lanyard and tag around her neck and shoulders. She smiled but was clearly confused about something.

‘Yes, ma’am?’

I was making an assumption about her age…and her background. It was not necessarily true that someone attending one of the conferences in our town came from outside of Canada, or that they were of an age where I had to start using terms that I reserved for my mother’s friends. But from her dress and manner, I could not assume that she was just a young lady stuck in the mall with no sense of direction.

‘Could you tell me…?’

She was asking for directions that I could actually give. It was a building in our downtown core and she was looking for some of the people who came with her to the city and had left her wandering in an unfamiliar mall all on our own.

‘Oh, thank you, thank you! You are a kind man!’

It was strange to be called a man as a teenager, but I did not want to nitpick over this. But there was something else that happened that threw me off.

She hugged me.

Remember what I said: it was in the middle of the day and I was on my way to work. I remember the smell of her perfume and the feel of the plastic dangling down her chest. It could not have taken more than a few seconds, but it really left me speechless. And then she walked away.

I do not remember her name. I did not chase after her when she left to follow my directions. I don’t even know what the conference was specifically for. But I will never forget walking to work, doing my shift, and wondering about the differences between a kid from the city and a woman from another part of the world that I would like to visit one day.

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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