52 card pick-up

Last night I dreamt that I ran into an old lady in a wheelchair on the street. Well, not literally - I was walking, she was rolling, and I didn't crash into her or anything like that.

She looked like she was having a hard time with it all - her arms were tired, the streets were busy...
I was pretty busy myself, but the sight of her concerned me so that I stopped heading my direction and decided instead to head in hers.

I smiled. "Please, let me help."

She looked at me - not mean nor malicious, but untrusting and untouchable. It was clear she found me far from charming.

"I'm fine," she said, clutching her things. "Please go."

"I'd like to help," I offered. "And I happen to be headed your direction. So please?"

She quarreled with me and for a little old lady - she put up a good fight. But each profanity she uttered and spit she spat required more energy than the last. When she knew she couldn't afford to waste anymore, she gave in.

"If you must," she articulated impatiently, "then fine. But let's go. I haven't got all day."

She didn't have all day, but that its how long it took for us to get there. I rolled her along a smooth cemented sidewalk along straight streets that never ended. Cars passed parallel. Lights changed from green to yellow to red. Traffic rarely ever intersected with the old lady, me, and her chair.

She was cautious and cranky. At times I considered leaving and letting her go on her own, but something inside me was too frightened to run off. I pushed along quietly hoping that by not interfering with her thoughts she might soon start to relax and not worry.

Without her ever uttering a "left" or a "right", I knew exactly where she was headed and that's where I took her - straight to the circus. We wheeled right in to the Big Top where I lifted her up in her wheelchair and sat her on the very top bleacher.

"There, now," she said with a smile. "This is perfect."

She was tired and her trust had slightly teetered. I was relieved.

Within seconds it seemed, though, her attention shifted from her faith in my face to the sack that sat in her lap. Feverishly, she unzipped it and rifled though its contents.

As she searched through the sack, bits of fric frac fell, slipping through the slats of the bleachers, falling down to the bottom of the tent.

I tried to keep track of what dropped, knowing that once I was certain she was situated, I would be crawling along the surface recollecting her things.

Finally from the bottom, she pulled out a deck of cards. I helped remove them from their box, set a blanket cross her knees, and left her to shuffle.

She was ready to play bridge by herself on the bleachers.

I started down to the ground to retrieve her things, nervous that should I return with less than everything, she would accuse me of trying to take everything from her.

It was dirty and dusty down there and her things had landed in spots my arms could not reach, but I tried. The first thing I rescued was a familiar old beaten up padlock. The key was right in there in the hole.

"Strange, isn't it?" a man said from behind me. He was older now and a little gray, but I knew him instantly.

"She's left it open like that for years. She was just to damn nervous that one day she might get careless and lose the key."

I smiled and nodded. I remembered.

"I know," I answered. "But what good is a lock should you lose the key? I think not ever being able to get at it is far worse than if it should be gone forever. I mean, nobody likes to lose things."

A few playing cards fell to the ground. I looked up to where she sat, concerned.

His eyes followed mine. "It just doesn't make sense," he said pointing up to the top bleacher."She didn't mind me holding all the cards - all of them! She'd hand over every last one in a heart beat. Even when if we were playing, she didn't seem to care if I knew what she held in her hands."

More cards fluttered down from the sky.

"It isn't just now," he continued, "She's always had trouble handling all of them herself - too determined to ask for assistance..."

"So the key, one day I see that she's all worried about losing it. So I asked her to give it to me. I promised to keep it safe - that she wouldn't have to worry anymore about losing it. And you know what?"

"She wouldn't do it." I answered. Four more cards fell.

"Exactly, she wouldn't do it! So instead she spent her life running around with a lock that never lost its key. Useless!" he said angrily. "I don't understand how you can expect to keep anything safe when you leave the key in the lock!"

"I think this lock is very useful," I said. "It all depends on what you are trying to keep safe."

I pointed to a storage shack there underneath the bleachers.

"If you put the lock on the outside of that door, leave the key and walk away the chances are good that someone will go in while you aren't watching. They'll clear you out while you are gone. And all you are left with is your self."

Cards and more cards continued to fall from up above. It made me so nervous. I wanted to go up and help her, but I continued to talk.

"But from the inside the lock works perfectly. You can go inside and close the door. Lock the door, leave in the key - the only person you have to guard it from is yourself. Not only are you protecting all of your things, but you are protecting yourself as well. And what could possible be more valuable?"
He looked at me at me a little funny. As if he were seeing me for the first time, though I'd know he'd seen me dozens of times before.

"I guess you have a point," he said. "I never thought of it that way."

I laughed and smiled. "Girls are funny like that," I said.

"No," he responded. "Just you."

The final card fell and I knew that all 52 had finally fallen because I felt them as if they were her years that she shed onto me one card at a time.

I wanted to give them back. I picked each of cards up, along with the padlock, and headed back up the bleachers, but by the time I got up there she was gone.