Short Story: When I Left The Party

When I left the party, it was half past ten, pitch black outside and raining. All I had to wear was a thin short jacket, so I turned the collar up and tucked my purse as far under my arm as I could, and I headed straight for the subway station a couple of blocks away. The lights from business signs and streetlights glared on the wet pavement and every step I took caused a splash of water to wash up around my feet.
Soon enough my shoes were soaking through. Even my ankles were getting wet from splashing water. There didn’t seem to be anywhere to walk around what appeared to be a continuous puddle that covered the entire sidewalk. The only variation was depth. What a change, I thought, from the recent heat wave we’d been having. I walked as quickly as I could while trying to avoid the splashing, but pretty soon there was no point. The water was soaking through my jacket and through my shirt, so that my upper back felt chilled and wet through. My hair was dripping.
I was wondering if I should have stayed at the party. But I had come too far to go back. I was committed. I didn’t see him until it was too late, and he was tapping me on the shoulder.
"Excuse me. Can you tell me how to get to the subway station?" he said.
I jumped back and it took me a second to get hold of myself. He had caught me totally off guard. His blue eyes were clear and kind, his smile disarming. "Oh, yes, I ‘m going there myself."
"Oh, so can I just follow you?"
"Would that be okay?" he asked.
"I guess so."
"I’m not from around these parts, and I got disoriented. I was at this party on Riverside."
"On Riverside? I was at a party on Riverside."
"I was at Ellie’s birthday party. Were you there?"
"I was there. I can’t believe I didn’t see you. Let’s walk."
"Okay, yes. It’s wet out here." He chuckled and his face softened. "Nice weather we’re having."
"Well," I said, "it’s not the best. It’s this way." I led the way down Broadway. "It’s just a few blocks."
"So, are you a friend of Ellie’s?"
"Yes, we went to high school together."
"Oh really? I know her from work."
"Oh you guys work together?" I asked.
"Yes, at Childville."
"Childville? I never heard of that. What is that?"
"Childville is a foster care facility for special children. I’m a counselor there. So is Ellie. She plays with the children. She’s very special."
"Oh. So special children, what does that mean?"
"These children are autistic. They’re very special in their own ways."
"Oh wow. That sounds interesting. Oh here we are." We had arrived at the subway station, and we stopped together on the top step.
The light from the tunnel made the pavement shine where we stood. We started down the stairs and out of the downpour.
"I’ll have to figure this out," he said. "I don’t think this is the way I came. Can you tell me which way the train goes from here?" he asked.
"Well, basically it goes uptown or downtown, and you can connect from there."
"Well I guess I need to go downtown. I’m headed for Brooklyn."
"Oh really? Me too. Where in Brooklyn do you live?"
"I live in Park Slope. Where do you live, if I may ask?"
"I live in Carroll Gardens, on President Street and yes, you may ask," I said. There was something very charming about this Childville counselor with the bright blue eyes and the winning smile. I was glad we were going to be riding together part of the way.
"Do you mind if I ride with you on the subway?"
"Not at all. In fact, I’m glad we’re going the same way," I said.
We deposited our tokens in the turnstile and walked through onto the deserted platform. The northbound train roared into the station on the opposite side of the tracks.
After a moment, it disappeared into the tunnel headed uptown to the Bronx. A handful of people walked to the exit and disappeared, leaving the platform empty. The station was silent, a hollow sound with just a hint of a rumble fading into the distance.
As we stood together on the platform, I was at a loss for words, but acutely aware of how attractive I was finding this man. A realization was dawning in my mind, something unprecedented, something unique. I shook the water from my hair and brushed beads of water from my shoulders. My new friend chuckled.
It occurred to me there is just so much water you can absorb, and I thought maybe I was approaching that limit. My shoes felt soggy, and even in the heat of the subway I felt a chill.
The southbound train finally rumbled into the station, screeching its way around a curve in the tunnel. The doors clanked open and we got on. The train was nearly empty so we had our choice of seats. We sat down side by side. I noticed he carried a spiral bound notebook under his arm. Now he took it out and opened it.
He started to make notes on the page. I couldn’t help wondering what he was writing, but I tried to be discreet and mind my own business. He seemed lost in private thoughts.
After a few minutes, he looked up at me and smiled. "I was just making a few notes," he said, "about the party, the rain, meeting you."
"Are you a writer?" I asked.
"I write poetry, yes. I would have to say I am a writer."
"Really, that is really cool," I said. I was dying to hear something he’d written, but didn’t know how to ask. The moments passed and the subway rumbled. Our elbows rubbed against each other.
"Yesterday when it was summertime out, I wrote a little poem. Would you like to hear it?" he asked.
"Yes, by all means. I’d love to," I said.
He turned a few pages in his book, and then he read,
"I took a walk and ate the sun.
The peach man sold a ripe one.
God it was hot."
"Wow, that’s great," I said. "I really do like that."
"Okay, I will dedicate it to you. What’s your name?" he asked.
"Renee," I said.
"I’m pleased to meet you, Renee," he said. Then he wrote "For Renee" on the page.
He tore it out of his book, folded it and handed it to me.
"You know," he said, "I left the party early because I wasn’t having much fun there. I felt out of place. But now I have to admit something good came from that party after all. I guess I’m trying to say I’m glad to have met you."
"Thank you," I said. "I feel the same way. At first when you walked up to me, I was a little scared. But now I’m glad I left when I did."
"Maybe, dare I say it’s fate?" he said.
He laughed a little nervously.
"Maybe," I said.
"When do you get off?" he asked. "I think you’re first. Am I right?"
"I get off at Carroll Street, before you get to Park Slope."
"May I walk you home?" he asked.
I agreed immediately, and I was wondering at how glad I was that he had offered to prolong our time together. We walked out of the subway together. It was still raining outside. I could feel myself bracing against the chill night air. I was still soaking wet. He put his arm around my shoulder, and it felt good.
A drunk came out of the darkness swaying heavily from side to side and stumbling toward us. His jacket was torn and dirty and his hat was smashed on his head like it was an outgrowth of his matted hair. His pants were stained and torn at the bottoms. His shoes were laceless workboots, hanging open at the tops. As soon as he saw us, he started to reach into his pocket for something. We both instinctively backed away, but he lurched into us as if propelled from behind. I saw the knife in his hand flash in the streetlight.
An instant later I saw it disappear into my new friend’s stomach. For some reason, the first thought that flashed into my mind was that I didn’t know his name. How could I have forgotten to ask his name? The drunk pushed. He fell back onto his knees beside me. Then the drunk reached out and grabbed my purse. I let go of it, trying to give it to him so I could get away from him. I could smell his rancid breath on my face and his shoulder leaned against me as he pulled the purse off my shoulder.
As soon as he had the purse, he stumbled away and disappeared. I got to my knees.
"I won’t leave you," I said. He looked up at me and I could see the color had gone out of his face. He tried to speak but no words came out. He looked down at his hands, and we both saw the blood pooling there on his shirt. "The guy got my cell phone," I said. "We have to call 911." He nodded in the direction of his own jacket pocket and I reached into his pocket and found his cell phone.
While we waited for the paramedics, I helped him get down into a seated position against the subway entrance. The rain just kept coming down and we sat together in a puddle. He leaned against me, and I tried to hold him up as best I could. "What’s your name?" I asked. He didn’t answer, but one of his hands reached out to find mine and he held on. It took an eternity before the medics arrived. As they laid him on a stretcher, he leaned over in my direction. "Rand," he said. I reached over and touched his shoulder.
I climbed into the front seat of the ambulance and told the driver my story on the way to the hospital. "He’s going to be okay I think," he told me. "He’s lost some blood and he’s in shock, but it looks like a shallow wound. Pretty worried for somebody you just met, huh?" "Yeah," I said. I felt a growing awareness that something had changed in my life, a corner had been turned and there was a new chapter starting. This stranger in the back of the ambulance was more important to me than anyone else in my life.

At the hospital, I had to stand in the hallway while he was in emergency, so I made a report of the robbery to a police officer who was on duty there. Apparently, they get a lot of crime reports in the emergency room. He seemed to take it all in stride. I’d been there about an hour when the officer found me again. They had found a purse and wallet lying in a trashcan just a block away from the subway station where we were attacked. The officer presented me with a plastic sack full of soaking wet things.
My wallet and all my cards were still there, as was my checkbook. Only the cash was gone. I confirmed it was my stuff, and the officer told me it was typical for this type of crime. "He should have just asked me for some money," I said. "Would you have given it to him?" the officer asked. "Yes," I said. "I would have. Not all of my money, but I would have given him some cash." "Guess he didn’t know that," the officer said. I thought about that and about all the times I had walked those streets alone.
The doctor came out to talk to me. "Are you related to Mr. Roberts?" "I’m a friend," I said. "Well he’s lucky you were there with him. He lost a lot of blood. But he’ll make a full recovery. He just needs to rest. We’ll keep him here at least overnight. You can see him now." "Thank you" was all I could think of to say. He nodded and walked away. I went into the room where Rand was laying quietly, tubes extending from his arm. His color was a lot better than the last time I had seen him.
"Hey," I said.
"Hi. You didn’t leave."
"I told you I wouldn’t leave you," I said. "So, how do you feel?" I asked.
"A little weak," he answered.
"Understandable," I said. "You just took a hit, as they say."
"I’m sorry I wasn’t much help," he said. "He got your purse, didn’t he?"
"Yeah. He got my purse. Look, I’m just sorry you got hurt. That guy came at us so fast, there was nothing you could have done."
"No I guess not."
"I didn’t know what to do."
"I know."
"I’m really glad you had a cell phone."
"Yeah."
"Thank you for staying with me and calling for help," he said.
"You’re totally welcome. Are you kidding? Of course."
"Guess I’ll walk you home another time."
"Yeah. Is that a promise?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
He got quiet then and closed his eyes, so I sat down in the room. Sleep overtook me like a tidal wave the instant I sat down. I dreamed about swinging in the park as a little kid, and it felt like I was flying. When I woke up, he was sleeping soundly. My watch said 2:00 a.m. The nurse came in to check on Rand.
Even though I didn’t ask her, the nurse brought me a warm blanket and a pillow. I realized she had it right: I wasn’t leaving. The thought of going home alone after what had just happened was too scary. I decided I’d wait until morning to face the world outside again. I laid the contents of my wallet out on the heating unit to dry and curled up in the chair. Some part of me was tied to this man now, this man I hardly knew yet knew so well. Ellie’s party seemed like a scene out of another life.