Marc was busy studying his Tehillim and Gemara. The last few weeks went by without a hitch. Work was fine. Spring training kicked off. He went on two dates with two different ladies. They amounted to nothing. But he tried.
He met up with Alana a few times. They went bowling, went to the Victoria Confino tour at the Tenement Museum. Marc has seen it many times. He felt a connection to it. They argued and had deep conversations about life and where it was going. He bumped into Jen a few times. Her relationship with her new guy was going well. She was happy. She was really forgetting about her past. If only Marc and Alana could. Doubtful it’d happen.
He invested in a few companies and took things slow. He spent his free time learning and training. He anxiously awaited the rabbi to call again. But he knew he had more learning to do and the rabbi would call at the right time.
He went to Coney Island Avenue and Avenue J. His uncle used to shop there. He once dated a woman from this area. He strolled down the blocks picked up some groceries and wine.
His phone was ringing. His grandmother. They spoke for a few minutes and made plans to get together in a few days. They were going to go to Doody’s to pick up some things for her house. Marc remembered going there with his dad. He’s not sure he’s been there since he was about 7.
The Yeshiva kids were leaving school and heading to the pizza shop. All was well.
All of s sudden, a car went flying down Coney Island Avenue and Avenue L and smacked into a packed yellow school bus. The bus driver hit the brakes, as the bus skidded several feet down the block.
The driver got out of the car and started running like a madman. No way was Marc going to let this be a hit and run.
He handed his packages to one of the frumsters and said he’d be back. He asked the kid to watch his stuff and promised him falafel or whatever food he wanted. The kid took the bags and started to pray.
Marc ran after the driver. Meanwhile, Hatzolah and the NYPD arrived. Thankfully the bus driver and students were ok. A few minor bruises that were treated onsite. The kids texted their parents about the accident and said they needed to be picked up.
Marc cornered the driver. The guy was shaking. Marc asked him why he ran? The guy spoke in gibberish. Marc was about to dial 911 on his iPhone when the man pulled out a Glock and pointed it at Marc and told him he was going to blow his head off.
Marc tensed up and started singing verses from Shir HaShirim, the Song of Songs. He was thinking of the abundance of seeds the pomegranate contains. The man kept the gun aimed at Marc’s face. Marc didn’t care. He kept singing. He arms got thicker. His hands bulged. His well-built legs got heavier. The man’s finger was on the trigger, as he pulled it, Marc’s wrist flipped pomegranates. They and the bullet collided. Marc ducked as the bullet’s flight patch was interrupted. He shot a few more out and nailed the man in his hand. The gun fell to the ground. Marc dialed 911 and reported that a man with a gun tried to shoot him. But he was able to kick the gun out of his hand.
Sirens blared. Marc wasn’t sure if he should stay. He kept on the phone and said he was running into the nearby medical center to be checked out and couldn’t wait. But assured them that the man would be tied up. Marc tied up the man and went back to the scene of the accident. He grabbed his groceries. He gave the kid $20 for a meal and ran to the Q.
Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc. 