And then I saw you

I cannot find the origin of this photo to give the right people credit. It's been floating around Tumbler and Pinterest. If you know the origin please let me know.

 Center Park, New York. 1957

A gust of wind chilled me as I handed the news man the money and took my paper. I turned up my collar as I headed to central park. It wasn't cold unless the wind picked up but I never liked the cold in any amount. In a hour I was to meet with my mother for lunch before we spent the rest of the day shopping. We were in town for a week, a vacation for mother and I, a business trip for father.

 I enjoyed the clicking of my heels as I walked. The park was not far from our hotel and I had been starring longingly at it whenever the taxi passed it. The leaves hand turned and started falling, it was bright greens, yellows, oranges and reds against the brown trunks and grey pavement. New York was too big  for my fancy, at least in the long term. After four days of walking, taxi rides, lunches, and dinner parties,  I needed a little peace.

I did not have to walk far into the park to find an open bench. I paused for a moment and continued  to the furthest I could see, I didn't want just a bench, I wanted the perfect bench. This one was set along a path of grown trees and was surrounded in there colorful foliage. This I decided was the best bench to lose myself in my news paper. I sat down in the middle to discourage others from trying to share my bench, this next hour I wanted for myself. I unfolded the paper and flipped it open, looking for something interesting,  maybe I would be able to join in conversations at dinner tonight. A good portion of articles were on the last game of the New York Giants. I didn't need to read the paper to find out why it was big news, after dinner the past two nights it had been the top conversation piece. I knew that the team was moving to San Francisco and had lost there last game in New York and people were upset. I was not into fallowing baseball but I was growing tired of just smiling and nodding my head while my father and mother talked with their friends, so I read.

I was nearly finished when from the corner of my left eye I saw a small squirrel. He was quite fat and had a nut in his mouth, he scampered in front of me and for a moment I lost sight of him before he appeared again to my right. He was arching around me, between the tree and my bench. he stopped and examined the ground before digging a small hole. I smirked as he pounded his nut down like a jackhammer and covered it with earth. He then scampered behind me.
My eyes moved back towards my paper when I noticed against the tree was a figure, I stared for a moment. It was a man, he looked relaxed as he leaned against the tree with his suit jacket unbuttoned and necktie loosened, just taking a drag from his cigarette. His only oddity was that he was staring right at me, his eyes never wavered, even when I met his gaze. I went back to my paper. It unnerved me at his rudeness and I found that I was reading the same paragraph repeatedly, my mind was on the stranger. I could still feel his eyes on me. How long had he been standing there? The foot traffic on the park path had picked up as people came out for their lunch. I realized I had drastically stretched out while reading and moving to the proper sitting position,  my bum had gone numb and tingly sitting that way. I glanced at my wrist watch to find that I had 5 minutes until I was to meet mother. The man was still against the tree. Though I didn't dare look at him I knew he was still watching me. I began feeling very alone on my bench, even with the trickle of people on the footpath I felt like it was just the stranger and I surrounded by the changing trees. My heartbeat quickened, I was letting my imagination get the better of me and if I continued sitting here I would be late meeting mother. I folded my paper and tucked it under my arm as I got up and walked to the path and out of the park. My walking was brisk and I realized I was passing people. I slowed myself. I was acting like a silly child. Back home an encounter like that would warrant my panic,  back home it was not only  impolite and rude to stare at someone like that, it was creepy. With all the people in New York, especially different people, staring happened  I reminded myself I had done the same thing the other day at lunch, mother scolded me and broke my starring trance.

I had to stop at the corner of the street to wait for the traffic light. A small crowd was growing waiting for the light to change. I went to check my watch again and the paper came loose and fell to the pavement.  I bent down to retrieve it when another hand picked it up. I looked up to find the man from the park. He handed it to me with a small smile growing on his lips, his eyes never looking away.
"Thank you." I said as the light changed. We walked across the street in a small pack.
"Would you like to have lunch with me? I heard him ask. His presence was no longer unnerving like in the park. Perhaps it was because of all the people or the towering buildings around us.
"I'm meeting my mother for lunch right now. So I have to..."
"That sounds wonderful. Where are we meeting her?" He interrupted. his voice full of happy energy.
I stopped and stared at him. "She won't like you." was the only thing that came to mind. I kept his gaze, I was no longer scared of him. He was looking at me with a giant toothy grin.
"I don't care if your mother likes me. I'd like to have lunch with you."
I was becoming amused by him and continued walking to the restaurant. Mother would be able to run him off should he continue in this manner.

Mother Duncan's devotion

When I was 14 or so I scoured my mothers bookshelf for interesting books. One that I found was a volume of Crimes and Punishment (volume 10,  On Amazon )  Being a fan of mysteries and watching COPS, I loved the book. Within this volume were topics of hired killers, suicide, war crimes, and good old fashion murder.

 One story  really caught my eye and my thoughts constantly went back to it. Mother Duncan's Devotion was the first story in the book, it was in the Chapter for Hired Killers and it was twisted and evil. When I began writing a few years later I found it hard to get into my bad guys head or even create someone that was not nice.  I went back to my Crimes and Punishment book (by now I had hoarded it in my room long enough that it had become mine) and I reread Mother Duncan's Devotion and then wrote a  scene from Elizabeth Duncan's POV. On paper I tried to become her or at least try to get a feel for her. If you want to read a little about her story here is a great site that sums it up, Mrs. Elizabeth Duncan. I cannot find a site that is like the passages in Crimes and Punishment.

 The following is what I came up with, I have not edited it or revised it. It's a treasure from when I first began writing, as rough and amateur as it is.

Mrs. Elizabeth Duncan Behind bars.

Mother Duncan's Devotion

There was a surprising gust of wind and I had to pull my light blue coat around me closer. Santa Barbara was a beautiful place except on state street. It was run down and trashy, the place we were going was run down and trashy. But no matter, this was where I was to meet with some "Boys" that could do me a favor. 

I opened the door to the tropical cafe and nodded to Mrs. Esquivel as Emma and I sat at a table. The place, as I said, was run down, filthy, probably to dirty for even the cockroaches. It all made me think that I shouldn't of had frank help them out, but then again I wouldn't have the opportunity to be doing what had to be done. My mood lightened slightly as I thought about my Frank. He would be with me again soon and he would see I was always right. Franks father was an idiot so I couldn't blame Frank for his sudden urge to do the same thing and strike out on his own. Mrs. Esquivel came up to the table with the "Boys" she had been talking about. Hispanic trash, no doubt illegal, stood before me. Both had ungodly big ears and that dirty look most Hispanics have.

"Mrs. Duncan this is Luis Moya and Augustine Baldonado. I think they can help you with your problem." She looked from the young men to me and left.

I placed a placid smile on my face and greeted them. We sat at one table to talk business while Emma, good friend as she was, sat at a different one. God bless her 70 years old and still loyal and thick enough to keep my secret. 

We jumped right into the heart of the meeting and we started to discuss price. Luis seemed the most eager and did most of the talking, the other one though, younger I suppose, kept quiet.

" I can happily pay you $3000 once the jobs done."

"That sounds a little cheap for who were taking out."

I pursed my lips, No matter, I thought, I won't pay them that much anyway.

"We'll do it for $6000." Luis exchanged a glance at his friend. "$3000 now and $3000 after."

Men were so easily deceived, it was almost sad. Lucky I knew how to keep them in the dark and still get what I wanted.

"Very well gentlemen. I just need the problem to be taken care of."

"Well make sure your unwanted daughter-in-law is eliminated Mrs. Duncan."

"Make sure you do." I got up stiffly. I already mentioned some ways I've thought to get rid of the little wretch, their faces graying as I went into details. She wasn't going to take away my son, I thought as Emma and I left the Cafe. He would be mine again soon and Olga would be gone.

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Interestingly this was the first time I wrote in first person and to date this is the only fiction I have in first person, at least that I can remember (and I have no old scraps of paper to say otherwise)