It was partly cloudy Thursday afternoon. Marc was bored at work. He had some time to kill. He usually brings lunch and eats at his desk. He decided to take a walk to mincha services (Jewish afternoon prayers). He liked the spirituality of the services. He also loves the rituals he did in the scouts based on the Lenni Lenape Indians. He quickly walked over to the temple. He often wondered which he liked better and mean more to him.
He listened to the rabbi speak after services for a few minutes and left. He took a call on the walk back to his office. He strolled along Madison Avenue and made it back to the dump he worked in.
About two hours later he went to the gym. He trained and had his usual discussions with his fellow gym rats.
He decided to run to J.Crew after the gym. As he walked through Rockefeller Center to the store, he heard a little girl crying. He kept walking. But her screams got louder. He figured it was nothing. She must have tripped or didn’t get ice cream. It happens every day over there. The kids run around too much.
He went into the store and tried on a few pairs of pants. He bought two and went outside. He still heard the kid shrieking. He heard her saying, “Please mommy. No more. Not again. Leave me alone.”
He turned his head and saw the poor child in a corner near the ice skating rink being slapped around. He was never one to rubberneck. But he did look for a moment. He walked over and asked the kid if she was ok.
“Mind your own business,” shouted her mom.
“No., mister, please help me. I get hit a lot. Mommy is so mean. I miss my daddy. We tried so hard to be a family. But mommy wasn’t nice to any of us. She lied so much. Daddy left,” cried out the little girl.
“He was bad,” yelled the mom.
“No. He went to work every day and was nice to everyone. You spent your days drinking. He tried to ask you to stop. But you wouldn’t listen. I can’t wait to see him this weekend. We are going to Bronx Zoo and getting ice cream.”
“No, you’re not going. I won’t let you,” she blurted out as she punched the kid again.”
“I am going. Daddy gets to see me. And I am going to live with him. And you can never see me.”
The mom stared at Marc. “Why don’t you walk away? My daughter and I need to be alone.”
“No. Please help me. She’s only going to take me home and lock me in the closet. She won’t even let me out to go to the bathroom. The last time I had to go in my pants. And they were the new ones that daddy bought me,” she started to cry.
The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a makeup case. She lunged it at Marc. Onlookers were waiting for what was going to happen next. Someone called the police to report the woman. The 911 operator promised they’d get an officer over there right away.
Meanwhile, the enraged woman tossed more junk from her handbag at Marc.
Someone yelled over to him to see if she is ok. He didn’t hear that. His neck started bulging. His fingers got slightly longer, while the tips of them opened. He swallowed a few times. Then he began shooting date honey out of the openings in his fingers. The honey spattered all over the woman. He shot so much it was strangling her. She lost her grip on her daughter. The girl ran toward Marc. But he shot one more blurb of honey that knocked mom on her butt. The cops were arriving. The crowd made way for them to walk through. As they did, Marc walked away. They never even looked at each other.
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