the girl in the broken window

got on the wrong bus

got off at the wrong stop

 

no lights anywhere except for the distant moon

full and illuminating the clear night like it’s noon

 

this street is nothing but abandon buildings

defining decay

an endless line wasting away

man, am i in the wrong neighborhood

 

i don’t even see a homeless person

          a shopping cart being pushed

 

i’m looking around

wondering why buses even go through here

and in the looking i see

something that makes me stop dead in my tracks

 

i almost can’t see her

a little black girl

inside one of the buildings

staring at me staring at her

through the shattered glass

of a second story window

 

i say, “hello”

and she just stares

i ask if she is alone

the staring continues

 

“where are your parents?” i press

then take a wild guess,

“do you have any parents?”

to this she shakes her head

 

i gather my thoughts and continue

“do you have someone you live with?”

she nods

 

“would you like me to help you

find your way home?”

 

she disappears

and i just about continue on my way

when she exits the door of the building

walks to me and takes my hand

 

and i do the one thing i am good at

and start walking

 

we must have gone a good three miles

before i see any signs of life

and turn down a street

occupied by apartment buildings

only a shade better then

the buildings that have been left to decay

 

black men begin to stare

and i suddenly feel i have reason to fear

but i walk on until

i get close enough to one man and say,

“do you know where this little girl lives?

i found her a few miles away

i think she is lost”

 

he jerks his thumb

to the building behind

and says,

“second floor, 2B”

 

i knock

fear driving the pounding of my heart

an elderly man and woman open the door

 

“my baby!” the woman exclaims

drops to her knees

and takes the little girl in her arms

smothering her in an embrace

 

“what you doing with our grandchild?”

the old man questions

 

“i got off at the wrong bus stop

a few miles east

found her

and helped her find her way home”

 

“we called the police

about her being missing

but that don’t do no good”

the old man explains

 

“God brought you to that spot”

the woman says with conviction

“so you could find our baby

and bring her home

thank-you Jesus

thank-you Lord”

 

i blush

embarrassed i look at the ground

these are the times you don’t make a sound

or say god may be here but he’s not around

 

the old man tells me,

“you can’t be walking alone

in this neighborhood

(no kidding)

let me give you a ride

to the other side"

 

we get in his chrysler

and tires begin to roll

he becomes uncomfortable with my silence

and my lack of picking up any conversational thread

he tries to weave

 

streets start to look familiar

and i tell him,

“this will be fine”

he pulls over next to the curb

 

i grab the handle on the door and pull

but he puts his hand on my left arm and says,

“i don’t know why you bothered

to help our little girl

but thank-you”

 

i push open the door

and look down at the floorboard

while i say,

“when i woke this evening i was a nihilist

i didn’t believe any of us mattered”

 

i get out his car and turn

lean in and say,

“i was wrong”

 

i shut the door and walk away

light a cigarette and melt into

the dark streets of decay

 

***