Sunday, April 7, 2013

The LADY IN RED. My muse. Or my siren.

In my overly rational (well, mostly) life, I don't often chalk up occurrences to fate, or tell myself "it was supposed to happen." No, a lot of time there's a very good reason for the way things happen in our lives. We make decisions and choices, and sometimes a coincidence occurs. But this one... this one is different.

EXT. PHOENIX STREET - SUNRISE.

I'm driving to work, not unlike most mornings, with NPR occupying my audio capacity, and my mind holding hopeful focus on all the things I hope to accomplish in the day. My commute is short, ridiculously short, really. Depending on the single traffic light, it could take anywhere from three to five minutes. I find myself cruising through the green traffic light, celebrating the victory of catching it, and seeing a red figure ahead. Not wearing my glasses, it was a distant red blur until I came nearer. Enter LADY IN RED. (This made me pull in a picture of the Lady Chablis, but of course this isn't her.)

She possessed a powerful stopping power... and a vibrancy separate from the standard transient crowd in downtown Phoenix. It should be noted that this is coming from a girl not wearing her correctional eye gear and prior to having her coffee. Cherry red high-top sneakers. Faded red denim jeans. A red knit blouse. A mahogany cane with an exaggerated arc for her grip. And a glimmering tiara, to glamorize the look. She had posture that reminded you of some sort of royalty, and at the exact same time, she had a toughness that screamed mobster.

On this first encounter, I simply paused. No work. No NPR. Just genuine curiosity about this very unique character that for whatever reason, encapsulated me for that moment. On the walk from my car into the office, I wondered where she'd been, and where she was going.


EXT. PHOENIX STREET - SUNSET.

I found myself in the car again, the day's activities mostly commanding my mental state, squinting towards the distant sunset to determine whether I might squeeze in a run before the darkness falls. It's a personal rule of mine that if I go running in downtown alone, it can't be at night.

This time I did catch the light. Red hues shone from the setting sun, from the stoplight's reflection on the hood of my car, and again, there was something more in the distance. Stepping onto the curb with the same confidence as before, LADY IN RED made an appearance. Although this was a day later, she boasted the same red getup, complete with the shiny tiara. Same air of a rough past. Rousing in me the same level of wonder. I actually shouted in my car "There she is AGAIN!!!" but managing to stay in my lane, and arriving home that evening to recount the sighting to my boyfriend.

He challenged me, "Write about her. Maybe it means something. Maybe it doesn't."

EXT. TARGET - DAY.

I was late. Nearing running from one meeting in downtown to the Target on the north side of town. This little supermarket optical center was the only place I could get a same-day appointment for contact lenses, and I was catching a flight the next day to snow ski, an activity I knew I couldn't just "wing" without eyesight. Feeling lucky to have found a parking spot near the front entrance, I bounded out from the car toward a clearer future.

Meeting my exact path of entrance at that exact moment was the LADY IN RED. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared, my jaw dropping to the pavement. This was days later, and well across town. Thinking back, I don't know if I actually said 'wow!' aloud. It was one of those moments I felt paralyzed.

My odd behavior didn't phase her, and she continued on her path towards the garbage can. Up close, I now noticed a red leather purse, and dangling in between her dark fingers was the shiny tiara. She approached the garbage, taking her wooden cane and slamming it against the side, as if she was shaking up anything that might be inside. It made a loud cracking noise. This act gave her great delight, and laughing to herself, which then escalated into a cackle coughing fit, she continued on her way, leaving me standing stupefied. I squinted to see which direction she would choose once inside. The automatic doors closed behind her. And the red figure turned into a blur. And then finally, it disappeared.

CUT TO BLACK.




2 comments:

Edmund Prince said...

Muse or siren? You stole my lines! Three is the magic number, it seems.

The Possum Hunter said...

I stole your formatting too. Consider it flattery, sir.