I saw an old man at the Subway terminal. He appeared to be both blind and deaf. He was wandering around like a spinning wind up toy, only slower. I couldn’t tell if there was ,in fact, any method to his madness, at first.
I hollared out at him, cause Lord, I didn’t want him to fall on the tracks. That would kill him. I didn’t want him to get killed and I didn’t want to watch him die.
I’ve seen a few people die, in my day. It ain’t nothing to look at. I guess you get used to it, though, like anything else because the third was easier than the second, which was easier than the first.
He didn’t hear me or turn around. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. I had no choice but to grab his arm and lead him out of there.
He knew me. Sort of. And difficult as it was to go in so many circles with this deaf and blind man, I felt better for doing it. I assume everyone watched as it appeared we were dancing. I was trying to hold on, and lead and follow.
I give directions to strangers all the time. But this experience was making me dizzy, I started to feel sick like I might throw up on everyone there. Oy, I pushed the deaf and blind man. I pushed him out the door. He didn’t fall and thank God no one died.