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I placed my hands lightly on the icy railing. They appeared distorted and oddcolored in the diminishing afternoon sun. My breath came in puffs of white mist and mynose felt frozen. I shivered as a blast of the frigid Chicago winter air hit me across myback. My lungs ached for warm fresh air. I felt as if the intense cold were freezing mefrom the inside out.
I leaned forward trying to peer over the high railing. But I couldn’t see. I lookeddown at the bottom of the railing. My feet seemed to move on their own. They steppedup onto the lower crossbar, slowly, one after the other.
I could now lean over the railing. I pushed farther onto my toes. People rushed allaround me; busy holiday shoppers and frantic over worked men with briefcases, businesswomen in long fur coats and Nike running shoes, mothers trailed by children of all ages. They bumped me, brushed, shoved, and hollered at each other and traffic.
Snowflakes landed softly on my nose and sleeve. I ignored everything, all of thesounds and commotion. It all blended together in the background. I only heard thewhirring of tires over the metal grating of the bridge and the gentle lapping of the water.
I looked at the cold dreary green waves of the Chicago River. I started as I saw aface staring back. It was a disfigured head, no body. The image frightened me, but at thesame time intrigued me. I strained to see it better and then it was if all motion ceased. There were no pushing, rushing families, no men and women hurrying to catch the “L”, notraffic, no noise, no freezing wind, no snow, no waves. I was alone. The city of Chicagostood all around me- silent, dark, empty. There was only me.
I peered through the on-coming dusk at the face in the water. It stared back up atme, solemn and sad. Her eyes sunk into her head, black circles around them. She had nocolor in her face, no “Happy Holiday smile,” there was no youthful glow; only a pale shellof the woman she had once been. Her lips were chapped and colorless, turned down in aperpetual frown. Her once vibrant hair lay listless around her face.
The young woman grown old before her time depressed me so much. Every partof my being, as an essential to my character, wanted to help. I wanted to make her laugh,to forget about her worries, to smile, grin, anything to change her expression. I couldn’ttake looking at her anymore.
I closed my eyes. I could still see the woman, the vision even more vivid. Sheseemed to reach out to me, “Help.”
I leaned farther over the railing, hand extended. I wanted to grab her and pull herto safety; it was a feeling so strong. I had to set her free from her wintry prison. I openedmy eyes again and looked down at her and realized I was unable to reach her. She was sofar below the bridge, it seemed like miles in-between.
She only pleaded with her eyes, “Help, please help.”
I couldn’t reach her. I tried to turn away, to run as far away as I could. I didn’twant to see her face anymore, the horrible glassy brown eyes. I looked around for help,but I was still alone. The buildings all stood gaping at me, watching, waiting to see what Iwould do.
The urge to reach lower down, to stretch my arm to the green water below wasgrowing stronger. I had to save her, but I couldn’t reach. I turned and screamed. Thesound echoed off the vacant buildings; there was no one to hear me. I was totally alone.
I started to panic, my heart raced, my breathing was shallow, and I couldn’t thinkstraight. All I knew was to save my sanity I had to get that woman out of the dark water. How? How could I reach her? I searched up and down the bridge, but found no waydown. How could I?
My concentration broke when I heard the clock in the old Union Station ring thehour. It was 6 o’clock. I turned to look at the train station. I was supposed to becatching a train back to school. I didn’t want to go, but it was what I was supposed to do. I grew scared. I was split between the pull to save the woman in the water and myresponsibility to get on that train and return. I had to make a choice.
Trembling I stood back on the railing and leaned over. That terrible pleading facestill stared back. “Help me, please help.”
“I don’t know how,” I answered weakly. I leaned farther and farther over the edgetrying to extend my reach, groping the air with my frostbitten fingers. Still I tilted closerto the water. I locked eyes with the woman far below. I looked deep into her vacanteyes, wondering who she was and how she got into this mess. My eyes started to waterover.
I felt as if I was moving in slow motion, my mind dissociated from my body. Firstmy right leg slid over the stone cold rail, then the left. I squatted on the outer edge of thebridge, reaching out.
“Please help, please.”
“I’m trying.”
With my arm outstretched hanging off the bridge I looked once more at thewoman and one single tear slid down my cheek. I watched it fall slowly to the surface ofthe water. The ripple effect disturbing the image, the distant reflection of myself.
“I’ll save you,” I whispered. And with that one tear I returned us to our freedom.
