Chivalry on Sea Breeze Drive
I befriended a lady this week.
I am fully aware of the complications that can arise from such an act of kindness. You know how people talk. But still, she had stumbled into my Sea Breeze driveway, and I felt an uncontrollable urgency to act.
I knew at once that she was high born for she wore a sophisticated tea rose orange gown cut with impeccable taste, custom fitted to her petite form. Perhaps, I wondered, the black smudges that freckled the dress were the result of some unknown trauma encountered on the highway. It must have been those bad kids down the road throwing mud at her I thought, anger rising within me.
I knelt down and checked for signs of life. Not hearing any breathing, I was about to engage in CPR when she moved. It was just a faint fluttering of her gown, but I took it as a positive sign. I bent low and whispered words of comfort and inquiry.
She seemed startled and made an attempt to rise and flee.
I stopped her. “You’re not ready,” I said softly.
She paused realizing flight was an impossibility at the moment.
“Let me help you,” I said.
She would have none of it, searching frantically for an escape.
I lifted her from the ground. She made no resistance. A slight morning breeze drifted in across the ocean marsh ruffling her begonia gown, summoning.
I knew she would leave, and I would never see her again. I knew.
Still, I tossed her gently into the wind, and she was gone.
(But as we all know, real friends never really leave us).
David R. Denny