I took a risk...

 

It is funny how life has a way of bringing people into our life when we need them most. Even more so when we don’t know how much a random person we meet can have an impact on us. I have been thinking about her all night wondering about the next part of her story. A series of unplanned events lead me to her.

It had been one of those days at school when the contracted time to leave could not come soon enough. State testing, 7^th graders off the wall, and not enough time in the day to get done what needed to get done left me drained. Rather than run out to the nearest bar for a drink when the bell rang, I sat with a friend and colleague and chatted. Before we knew it, an hour had passed. We said our goodbyes and headed toward home for some relaxation.

The only thing I had to eat all day was a banana. I figured I would stop at Burger King on the way home for something to take the edge off the hunger pangs. I am not sure why Burger King was the chosen fast food joint. I had never stopped there before today. I ordered my Whopper Jr. meal and headed to the window. “We are waiting on your fries. It will be about two minutes. Can you pull up please?” Seriously? My father was coming in from Maine. I was hoping to be home before he got there. No biggie. It would give him time with the girls.

I sat playing on my phone with my window still open waiting for my fry delivery when I heard a voice say hello. I looked up to see a woman in disheveled clothing sipping on a super-sized soda. I gave her a smile and asked about her day.

“I am working to get back up and make my life something good.”

That is totally my thing! Disheveled, homeless, poor, whatever, I didn’t care. There was something about her that drew me in. I wanted to have a conversation with her. She talked about all the evil people that she had been around. Drug dealers, murderers, and child molesters among others. She talked of terrorists and the evil in the world. Where was the getting back up she mentioned earlier?

“What made you smile today?” My all-time favorite question to ask. I enjoy hearing people talk about what makes them happy. I figured the question was a good way to get her back on track of getting back up.

“Nothing. There are so many terrorists out there.”

“Lucky for you, we met! Meeting new people is a great reason to smile.”

She told me about her need to get to a doctor and get an upper GI test done. Maybe a lower GI test. Something was wrong. People had been shooting her up and she didn’t know what was in the needles. She just felt wrong. I began to realize that she was a bit was a bit off. Through our entire conversation, I keep looking at what appeared to be a piece of gauze hanging from below her shirt, as if the rest of it was wrapped around her abdomen.

“Is that what the bandage on your stomach is from?”

She lifted up her shirt to show me it was a belt. “No. This is my white belt. I am starting back at the beginning again.”

“Nothing wrong with starting at the beginning again.” I assured her.

The BK lady finally came out with my food. I was sad for our conversation to end, but I needed to get home to welcome my father. I started saying goodbye and wishing her well.

“Do you think you could help me?”

“What kind of help do you need?”

“Could you maybe give me a ride to a doctor? I think I need to go to Raleigh. That’s where the good ones are. I really thinking I need an upper GI test.”

For those of you who don’t know, I work in Louisburg. Raleigh is 30 miles down the road. I heard the voices of many of you in my head. Don’t let her in your car. She might have a weapon and she could kill you. Other voices chimed in. You need to get back and see your father. He has been traveling all day. Raleigh? Why Raleigh? She is mentally ill. God knows what she could do. You don’t have the time. What if she sucks you dry? The conversation in my head seemed to last an eternity. It became noisy. Negative. Fear began seeping in. And then I began listen to my soul. That part of me that leads with love.

“Sure.”

She got in the car. I reminded her to wear her seatbelt. As we continued our conversation, there was no doubt in my mind that she was mentally ill. I asked her if anyone would wonder where she was like family or friends. “I had a family, but I don’t know what happened to them.” She alluded to the fact that they might be dead. Later in the conversation, she became nostalgic and mentioned that her daughter would be 35. (She first clarified that it was 2016. I let her know it was 2015.)

“My name is Mandie. What’s your name?”

“I would rather not say it out loud. The terrorists might hear it and that would not be good.”

The conversation went on to everyday things. Hearing that I was an English teacher, she told me that she majored in English in college. Of course, any time English comes up in conversation, a discussion of books is not too far behind. I asked her about her favorite books. Withering Heights and Nancy Drew books. I loved Nancy Drew when I was a kid! We talked about the chances she took and the trouble she got into.

“I don’t know which of my government identities to use with the doctor.”

“Why don’t you use them all? That way, they can compile all the information and treat you in the best possible way to get you better. I am going to take you to an Urgent Care in Youngsville.” This woman was growing on me. I wanted her safe from the harm she believed was heading her way.

“Do you know them? Can I trust them? Will they take me away in a straight-jacket and put me in a padded room like they did my father?”

“I do know them. They will help you.” I hoped with all my heart what I said was true.

A few minutes later, I looked over to see her head down on her chest. She was sound asleep. Too soon, we were at the Urgent Care. She thanked me for my kindness as she got out of the car. We walked into the office together. I wanted her to know she was loved. That she mattered. She told the receptionist about needing the Upper GI test done. When she was told they could refer her to a specialist, I encouraged her to sit down and relax. I would tell them about the other symptoms she told me about. I told the receptionist about my observations.

“This is Angelica. She is going to take care of you.”

I gave her a hug and thanked her for being the wonderful person she was. I asked for her picture. I want to remember her. “Let’s take one together.” After taking our picture together, I gave her a big hug and headed home.

Sometimes it is the people we least expect who have a lasting effect on us.