Maribel Cane and the Light of Central Park

“Taxi! Taxi!” Maribel Cane ran, her briefcase under her arm and her heels clacking on the sidewalk. Someone else stepped into the cab and the light switched off as they drove away. Maribel stopped and huffed, frowning. She began to walk, her heels clicking on the pavement. She glanced at her watch, trying not to drop the briefcase from under her arm. It was already late, and it was looking more and more like she was going to have to walk all the way back home. The handle on her briefcase had snapped off a few days ago and she hadn’t the time to get a new one or get it fixed, and today she’d had a parent-teacher conference after school and then spent a few hours alternating between crying and grading English papers filled with atrocious grammar and spelling. Maribel tried not to think about it, wishing she’d worn different shoes. She tried to walk just right so her feet wouldn’t hurt but it didn’t really work.

Maribel Cane was upset, and understandably so. Her briefcase broke, but that wasn’t what was bothering her. She’d burned her breakfast this morning but that wasn’t it either. She’d had to deal with horrible parents and horrible papers this evening and that wasn’t it. Walking home, feeling the blisters form on her feet she didn’t even think that was what was bothering her. She’d had another failed relationship, failed before it even began. She’d been on two dates with the guy and thought it went really well, but then he’d stopped calling or texting. A five year relationship ended unexpectedly and since then not a single relationship had lasted longer than a week. She was beginning to feel cursed.

Almost on cue her shoe’s heel snapped off leaving Maribel tripping into a puddle and dropping her briefcase. She sighed, and felt like crying. Crying would just take more effort from her, and she’d rather not right now. She took off her shoes and picked up her briefcase, walking on slowly through the rain-stained city streets, the bright lights of the city that never sleeps glaring in the lingering haze. A yellow cab pulled up beside her, the driver rolling down the window.

“You need a ride, ma’am?” Maribel smiled despite herself.

“Yes, yes thank you so much!” She climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. “Seventh street please.”

“Sure thing.” The driver said, switching off his light and pulling out into the abandoned street. “Pretty calm out tonight, huh?” Maribel nodded. “You don’t see that too often these days, do you?”

“No, I guess not.” Maribel said with a sigh, realizing this was going to be a talkative driver.

“I guess the rain keeps people in doors, huh? Not even a lot of cabs out tonight.”

“I saw one earlier.” Maribel said.

“He didn’t pick you up?” The driver asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

“No, he picked up somebody else.”

“Mm, you’ve been out for awhile, huh?” Maribel repositioned herself and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve been out for awhile.”

“No one waiting up for you?” The driver asked, his voice full of surprise. Maribel caught her breath and chose her next words.

“No, there is. My boyfriend is waiting for me at home.”

“It’s pretty late, he didn’t go to bed?” The driver asked as he turned onto another street.

“No.” Maribel held her keys between her knuckles. “He just texted me, actually.”

“That’s good. The city can be full of creeps at this time of night, y’know?”

“Yeah.” The cab rolled to a stop at a traffic light and Maribel looked out the window. Central Park sat beside them, quiet and still. She glanced at the light, dull red above them. She watched the driver in the rearview mirror, his eyes on the road, his hands resting on top of the steering wheel wearing a pair of black, fingerless gloves. Maribel took a deep breath. The light turned green and she threw open the door of the cab and ran, her briefcase clutched against her chest. The cab driver yelled after her but she kept running. Central Park opened before her as the wet concrete tore at her pantyhose beneath her feet. She cowered behind a statue, breathing heavily, listening for the sound of the man pursuing her. She glanced out from her hiding place but didn’t see him anywhere. Cautiously she stepped out and began to walk, trying to get her bearings. Her legs were shaking and her eyes darted at every small noise. Gingerly she crept through the park, her pantyhose torn and muddy, her feet beginning to bleed. Twice she’d had to avoid people walking in the park. Somehow she had to get out of here and make it home, but she was afraid to go back the way she came and afraid to stop or sit for even a moment. That man would catch up to her.

Finally, her legs aching, her feet bloody and mud stained, Maribel Cane collapsed to the curb. She looked around, utterly exhausted, but didn’t see the man following her. He was nowhere to be found. She waited for a half hour, resting her legs, but not another soul could be seen. Maribel let out the breath she’d been holding. Maybe she had misread the situation, and he’d been a normal cab driver. She held her head in her hands. Maybe she was crazy, like everyone thought.

As she sat, head in hands, eyes on the pavement, she began to hear a strange sound. At first she looked up, thinking maybe it was some kind of motorized vehicle, but there was no one about. The sound was growing steadily louder, like a hum, but Maribel had no idea where it was coming from. Suddenly a green light filled the park and shocked her off her feet. The hum was loud now, like a thousand bees or a broken stereo, reverberating through the entire park. Maribel covered her ears and shut her eyes as the green light grew brighter still. As sudden as it appeared a minute later the sound vanished. Maribel Cane opened her eyes slowly and found the park exactly as she remembered it. Almost. She looked up as snow began to fall. She cocked her head to the side-- snow, in August? She walked a few steps through the grass, realizing she was no longer barefoot, and her feet didn’t hurt. Looking down she was wearing some kind of white tights with shoes attached, like a ballet dancer or a gymnast. Ahead the pond was frozen, solid ice on the surface in the middle of August. Maribel cautiously approached and gazed down at her reflection, not at all how she remembered it. She was wearing a costume, like a superhero, with a mask to hide her face.

“Lady, are you okay?” She turned around to see the cab driver facing her, concern on his face. “What’re you doing?” Maribel saw him but didn’t feel any panic. She felt anger, anger that he had frightened her so much, that she had felt so unsafe. Maribel Cane raised her arms at the man, glaring at him.

“I’m going to be just fine, sir.” A blast of cold air and ice shot from her hands and the man didn’t even have time to scream. He stood frozen in shock and repose as Maribel strolled up to him and met his eyes. “We’re all going to be just fine from now on.”