Mike, the cabbie, was relieved. He just dropped off his last passenger and was going to pick up his wife, then head home. ‘And not a moment too soon’, he thought as a nor’easter was headed their way.
Suddenly the wind whipped Mike’s cap off his head and he chased it across the sidewalk and down the steps of an office building. He grabbed his hat, then turning to go back to his cab, he spotted a figure huddled in the corner. Another drunk, no doubt.
“Hey, buddy! Storm’s a-coming. Better get yourself inside!” Mike warned the huddled heap in the corner. Then he heard crying. He inched closer and the dim streetlight revealed an old woman wrapped in a tattered grey coat.
“Oh, shit! I swear I got the worst luck in the world!” Mike muttered under his breath. Knowing his wife Laura would kill him if he didn’t help the old lady, Mike called out over the wind – “Excuse me. Are you ok?”
A weak voice replied “Help! I’m lost and scared. Please help me!”
“Let me take you to the police station” Mike suggested. “They can help you.”
“No! I need to see my son. Please take me to my son.”
“Look, lady, I’d like to help you, I really would, but the weather’s getting bad and I gotta pick up my wife.”
The old woman started sobbing and it was too much for Mike. “Okay, I got an idea. What’s your son’s address. If it ain’t too far, I’ll take you; otherwise, it’s the police station.”
Immediately the lady responded. “Renwick’s. That’s where my son Patrick is.”
“Your son’s at Renwick’s? Laura – that’s my wife – she works there! C’mon … we don’t wanna keep ’em waiting!”
“Patrick is very patient. He knows I’ll be there” replied the old lady.
“Well”, Mike said as he offered the old lady his arm, “my wife ain’t very patient, especially in weather like this, so let’s skedaddle.” Mike noticed the woman was so frail he barely felt her hand on his arm.
The woman clung to a little box which she placed on the back seat next to her. The rain started coming down harder as Mike made his way to Renwick’s. He called Laura to let her know he was on his way and filled her in on what was going on. The old woman hummed softly in the back seat; the sound was tender and sweet yet melancholy.
Finally they arrived at Renwick’s. Laura was waiting under the awning but there was no one else there and the store was closed. Mike flashed the headlights and Laura ran to the cab. She turned around to greet the mysterious old lady but the back seat was empty.
“Well, where is she?” asked Laura in surprise.
Mike looked into the backseat. “Where’d she go?” he stammered, clearly stunned. “I was here the whole time. No one left this cab!”
“Wait a second, Mike. What’s this?” Laura reached for a box sitting on the back seat; it was the old lady’s box. “Well, someone was definitely here” Laura remarked, bewildered. On the outside of the box was written ‘Patrick McGuire, Pediatric Unit, Bed #27‘. There was a note inside which read: “For my sweet Patrick. I’m sorry I made you wait so very long, little one. Mama’s coming now.” Inside was a miniature gold lantern with glass panels etched with cherubs.
“OMG Mike! I just remembered. Years ago the department store was once the site of the Renwick Smallpox Hospital. A lot of people died from smallpox, especially babies. So many helpless babies – bless them. This is a sign, Mike. That old lady was working her way back to her long lost baby boy.”
“Laura, I know you really believe in all that angel mumbo jumbo but I think somebody was just looking for a free cab ride. Let’s go home before we get stuck in this weather.“
“Mike, if you don’t believe, why do you have a statue of St. Christopher on the dashboard?” Laura asked.
“Because he’s the patron saint of travelers and the statue just so happened to come with the cab. I was pranked, Laura. Let’s go home. I’m tired and hungry and wanna watch Wheel of Fortune.”
“Ok, Mike. We’re not going to solve anything tonight” Laura agreed and reached over her shoulder for her seat belt. “Mike?” Laura practically whispered her husband’s name. “What color coat was the old lady wearing?”
“It was grey. Why?”
“Look.” Laura’s voice trembled as she pointed in the direction of Renwick’s.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph” Mike gasped, quickly making the sign of the cross.
There, under the awning of Renwick’s stood a woman in a grey coat cradling a baby. She was young and pretty with a peaceful glow about her and although her coat was poor quality, it was clean. She placed the infant in a pram, glanced at Laura and Mike and smiled. Then, pushing the carriage, she disappeared into the night.
Mike and Laura sat in the cab silently clutching each other’s hands. Getting home suddenly didn’t seem quite so urgent.
NAR © 2023
Author’s Note: The Renwick Smallpox Hospital, later known as the Maternity and Charity Hospital Training School, was located on Roosevelt Island in Manhattan, NYC. The hospital was diligent in caring for the infirm; at one given time, it was able to take in 100 patients – many of whom were desolate and/or pregnant immigrants that had arrived through Ellis Island. Sadly, about 450 patients were reported to die annually. Designed by architect James Renwick, Jr., the 100-bed hospital opened in 1856; a century later, it closed its doors.
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