Manhattan Sojourn

I have a confession to tell: when David, Pam and I were traversing New Jersey on our way to Manhattan, New York we bumped into a young lady. She’s probably 19 years old. We were in the mountainous area, on a two-lane highway, with no houses or stopover stores in sight. Pam was on the wheel and David was chatting with her about their misadventures during those years when plaid pants left nothing to the imagination. I was sitting in the back seat, content in my silence, listening to their conversation, nodding my head to show affirmation to their comments about how the American society has changed socially, politically and spiritually. It was a long journey, so long that I felt my butt thickened and gave that pin prick feeling. I was not prepared for the trip. It was on a Friday afternoon when David, my sponsor, and Pam, his close friend, decided to head for the big city just the way they used to do on a Friday night. David kept the itinerary a secret, even if I was puzzled as to why he drove out to Brockport to pick me up. He told me to pack my bag with my clothes and we’re off to somewhere. I thought we were going to Neverland; I mean, to a fishing camp as Pam has a license to fish around New York State.

So, to get back to that April night when snowflakes fell like God’s little whispers, and winter was just saying its farewell, we never expected an accident will happen. Not in our wildest dreams. It was about 10 p.m. The lady was standing on the side of the road; her car was in the ditch. It was most likely in the ditch because of the slippery driving conditions. She was waving her hands as if begging for us to stop. We saw several cars in the ditch on our way but help had come their way. It’s totally a disaster when you travel alone on such a highway. It was maybe because she was excited or frightened as it was dark and cold that she ran in the middle of the road without thinking of the consequences. It was too late for Pam to put on the brake. The lady was thrown off the side of the road, into the ditch, lifeless. Then I remembered we were traveling on Friday the 13th. Such bad luck we had.

Frantic and nervous, as if the heavens had gripped our neck, depriving us of the sweet smell of mountain breeze, we got out of the car. It was too late. Even if she lived it would be an hour or two before we could take her to a hospital. Shaken, Pam and David came up with an idea. David took several garbage bags out of the car trunk. We wrapped the body. We put her in the trunk, careful not to leave any blood that might be taken as evidence, and drove off.

On our way we never said a word. In my mind I wondered why we had to take the body with us when nobody saw the incident but us. We could have just buried it in the snow and left the case to the police. My mind was taunting me – the lady’s face was still fresh in my mind, her long blonde hair and the red, thick snow coat she wore. I was trembling actually.

When we were about to enter Manhattan, Pam pulled over and told us to take the body out of the trunk and transfer it on top of the car. I stared at David who stared at Pam with disbelief. But we complied with the request. We entered the city without any hassle, but it took us about thirty to forty-five minutes to find a parking spot. Manhattan is as busy as a beehive. We parked in front of an electronics store, just a few feet away was a hotel undergoing a renovation. We got out of the car. I looked at the load on the car’s roof and was puzzled by what David said. David suggested that we come back after an hour or so and not to worry about anything. So we did as he suggested and looked for a pub to have a beer or two. We had a good time at the pub, drinking our beer. We forgot about the incident. That’s how big city life is – drink as if there’s no tomorrow.

After an hour and a half we went back to the parking area. To my surprise the body was not there anymore. Pam said, “Works everytime!” David smiled. We headed to our hotel at 1 a.m.

Tadah! And you believed me, didn’t you? Yes, we did make the trip to Manhattan, on Friday the 13th, at the end of winter. And yes, there were many cars that wound up in the ditch because of the slippery roads. But the incident was actually a story told to us by Pam as a prank. She fooled us. I was actually shaking my head and about to blame her that she didn’t report the matter to the police. Until she revealed that it was pure fiction, told by a friend to a friend etc. (And I cannot drink beer anymore as I am allergic to it).

Our Manhattan sojourn was a blessing. Winter was on its way out, the ground was almost clear. Though the winter breeze still made our joints stiff, it’s better than wading in the snow on a trip. Such trip is just ordinary to David and Pam. They revealed to me that they used to spend their weekends in Toronto or Manhattan or New York City “just for the heck of it.”

We stayed in a hotel in New Jersey (and not in Manhattan as I have written earlier), which is a few minute drive to Manhattan. We checked in at 1 a.m. after a good 10 hour trip from Rochester, New York. We crossed Pennsylvania, too. The hotel is actually on top of a hill and one can see Manhattan’s lights during nighttime. Manhattan is a business area and it never sleeps.

The trip to Manhattan was a fruitful endeavor, though I was kind of dazed over the busy lifestyle of the people. The big city life still amazes me. Rochester is a much smaller city, but I have come to love the suburban feel - fresh breeze, manicured lawns, grand houses and less traffic. Living in Rochester is like living in Bacolod. Though Bacolod is smaller than Manila, the comely, easy feel makes one feel at home. I’d never trade Bacolod and Rochester for any place at all.

(with pictures)