2003: Tears ran unaware and unchecked down L. D. Jansen’s face as she watched from her shadowy alcove as the stranger first embraced and then kissed the lips of the woman she had hoped to make her own. The tears were accompanied by a persistent ache in her abdomen, as if she’d been punched, but she could not turn away. Anger rose, but died just as quickly. With whom could she be angry--Solace, the stranger, herself? She had, in essence, pursued Solace. The fact that there seemed to be a shared chemistry between them was probably nothing more than coincidental. Although the evening retained much of the day’s heat and humidity and perspiration was beading on L. D.’s forehead, she could see that the woman (what was her name, Rosanna?) was holding Solace so close that there was little room between their bodies. It seemed almost indecent to be ogling such an intimate moment.
A creaking sound made L. D. turn her head slightly. She watched warily as a thin figure pushing a shopping cart moved towards her. She narrowed her eyes and could make out the face of a woman with a thatch of wild hair. She stiffened and her fingers clenched into fists. Her mood was foul; and she did not desire it to be tested by one of New York’s unfortunates. She made to back up but it seemed the woman’s eyes were boring into her soul and she felt powerless against allowing her to invade her space and grief. The cart slowed as the woman drew nearer. L. D. swiped at her forehead with the tips of her fingers. Her leg began its annoying twitching and she placed a hand on it, but it was useless. The trembling persisted.
“Your money cannot acquire this treasure,” came the uncharacteristically soft voice of the woman. Her breath held the sweet odor of peppermint. L. D. could see that she held an object in her hands. What was it—a can?
“Go away,” snarled L. D.
“You will not find comfort here. You will only find comfort on the dance floor,” replied the woman, ignoring L. D.’s threatening tone. She raised the hand holding the can so that L. D. could see the label. Ignoring the large block letters spelling out the word MACE, L. D. advanced, planting her taller frame directly in front of the bedraggled stranger.
“I will find comfort whenever, wherever and with whomever I choose,” she hissed, “Now, get out of here before I—“ she raised her hand but was hit with a caustic cloud. Instantly, her eyes began to burn and water and she began to cough violently. She thought she might choke or lose the contents of her stomach. Right now, though, L. D. did not care. Frantically, she removed a handkerchief from a breast pocket and began dabbing at her eyes which felt as if they had been set on fire. The bout was so noisy, she did not hear the voices of the women who came to see if they could help someone who was obviously in distress.
The women heard what seemed to be uncontrollable coughing and retching. Solace disentangled herself from Rosanna and began moving in the direction from which the horrible sounds emanated. Rosanna, being more cautious but having no intention of allowing Solace to walk into a situation alone, took her arm and headed them in the direction of the emergency.
As they neared the source, Rosanna recognized the outfit of the woman in black. Her brows knit in confusion. She thought she had left earlier and would be on her way to her next destination. Why was she here in the shadows? Suspicion welled up in Rosanna’s mind. Solace would, of course, have no idea who the stranger was until she spoke, which she seemed incapable of doing through her hacking and choking.
“Do you need helped?” Solace questioned, concern evident as she reached out a hand to where she thought the woman might be standing.
“I…I….I…think I’m okay,” L. D. gasped. She had never been attacked in this fashion and it galled her immensely that her usually excellent instincts and reflexes had failed her. She also realized, with a mixture of disbelief and trepidation that Solace and Rosanna were coming to her rescue. Could this evening get any more bizarre? It also became painfully clear to L. D. that she could not see. She moved her hands in front of her eyes and almost fainted. It was as if a curtain had been drawn, blocking out all light. She let out an involuntary moan of distress.
“What’s the matter?” asked Solace.
“Solace, I can’t see!” L. D. wailed. “I didn’t know that pepper spray could do that.” Now, not only was her leg trembling, but her entire body began to shake uncontrollably. She thought she might hyperventilate. Her cool exterior was rapidly cracking and she felt hysteria wrapping itself around her like a black cloak. She had never been deprived of her sense of sight and it frightened her more than any words could express.
Solace found L. D.’s hand, Without breaking contact with her frightened dance partner, she looped her arm around L. D.’s slim hips.
“You’re going to be all right, L. D. I’m sure it’s just a severe reaction to the spray. I’ve never heard of anyone actually going blind from a mace attack. Solace said this with more confidence than she possessed for she knew next to nothing about the side-effects of the poison. She did, however, know that they needed to get L. D. to an emergency room as soon as possible to assess the damage.
“Sanna, put your arms around L. D. We’re going to need to support her. She’s not too steady on her feet.”
Solace’s words jolted Rosanna out of her momentary inertia. She had stood by watching L. D.’s rising panic. She heard the dreaded three-word sentence and realized that the warm night air was doing nothing to stave off the chill of fear that made its way unbidden up her spine. She had known and loved Solace for five years and had never actually pondered what it would be like to be a blind person. She had simply accepted the fact as a part of Solace, only ever thinking about the many ways Solace went about her daily activities. Seeing a sighted person instantly become blind shook her to her very core for she took her ability to see for granted.
Rosanna moved woodenly to L. D.’s other side and, making an immense effort to push aside her feelings of intense jealousy and suspicion, looped her arm about the woman’s waist.
“We should take her to Lenox Hill Hospital. They’re closer,” Solace announced.
“Whatever you say, Sol” They made their way to the corner where Solace left L. D. in Rosanna’s strong arms and hailed a taxi.
L. D. was aware that she was being propelled forward, but her mind raced with dire possibilities and she found it difficult to stay in the moment as a black future loomed before her. She thought how ironic it was that she was so fond of the color black. Now that it was all she could see, she hung her head in dismay. It also did not escape her that she was being held up by her rival, but this fact seemed completely insignificant in the face of her despair.
As they entered the cab for the short ride, Solace tried to get L. D. to recount the incident. The only sentences she continued to utter concerned the fact that she could not see.
“Everything is black, Solace. How can I dance with you? How can I guide you?” L. D. moaned.
Rosanna stiffened in the seat next to her and quietly fumed.
“Don’t worry about that, L. D. We’ll be able to dance and you won’t have to worry about guiding me. I know the moves. You know that.”
“But I have to make sure that you don’t get hurt,” L. D. rambled. Words seemed to be tumbling out of her of their own volition.
“L. D., can you tell us what happened?” Solace tried again.
The fog began to lift from L. D.’s shocked brain and she stammered, “There was a homeless woman. She said my money couldn’t buy comfort. I just wanted to… I wouldn’t have hurt her. I wouldn’t have hurt her.” She dropped her head in her hands running her fingers through her hair, pushing the bangs away from her forehead; the strands lay in tangled disarray.
Solace and Rosanna gasped at the mention of a homeless woman. Rosanna noted Solace’s reaction and asked, “Did you meet a homeless woman with a shopping cart, Sol?”
