‘It’s gotta be around here someplace.’ Vivian stopped at a corner, glanced at the street sign, and raised her guidebook close to her face.
Abilene looked up at the sign and found herself grinning. ‘Hey, it’s Mulberry Street. And to think that I saw it.’
‘I don’t see it,’ Vivian murmured.
‘What?’ Cora asked.
‘Mulberry Street.’
‘And to think that I saw it,’ Abilene repeated.
‘What are you talking about, Hickok?’
‘Mulberry Street. Dr Seuss.’
‘Give us a break.’
‘I can’t find it on the map,’ Vivian said.
‘It’s gotta be on the map,’ Abilene told her. ‘It’s famous.’
‘You try and find it.’
Vivian handed the guide book to Abilene. In the center of one page was a small map of Greenwich Village. She squinted at it under the streetlight. ‘Well, there’s MacDougal.’
‘But we’re on Mulberry. Where the hell is Mulberry Street?’ She kept looking at the map. Streets went every which way, going off at odd angles, ending, resuming elsewhere. She found no Mulberry Street. Finally, she shook her head. ‘I sure don’t see it.’
‘Look for Broome,’ Cora suggested. ‘We’re at Broome and Mulberry.’
She studied the map, searching for Broome. ‘It’s not here either.’
‘Oh man,’ Helen moaned.
Vivian grimaced. ‘I think we might’ve gotten off the map.’
‘Then where the hell are we?’ Abilene flipped the page over and found a small map of the East Village. ‘Could we be in the East Village?’ she asked.
‘You got me.’
‘Jesus,’ Helen said.
‘These street names don’t look very familiar,’ she said, and a drop of water hit the page. She lifted her face and a cool drop splashed her forehead. ‘I hate to mention it, folks. I think it’s starting to rain.’
‘I was hoping that was just a little bird shitting on my head,’ Finley said.
‘Just some drizzle,’ Cora said. ‘It won’t kill us. Let’s keep walking. We’re bound to come to a main road before long. If we can’t find a subway station, we’ll get a taxi.’
Abilene handed the guidebook back to Vivian. ‘So which should we take?’ she asked. ‘Mulberry or Broome?’
‘Either way, we’re lost,’ Helen said.
‘Mulberry hasn’t gotten us anywhere,’ Cora said. ‘Let’s try Broome.’
As they crossed the road, the raindrops began to fall more rapidly. By the time they reached the other side, the drizzle had turned into a shower.
Walking backward at the head of the group, Finley stretched out her arms and said, ‘Could be worse.’
‘Yeah?’ Abilene asked. ‘We’re lost and it’s pouring.’
‘And my feet are killing me,’ Helen said.
‘At least we haven’t been mugged.’
‘The night’s still young,’ Abilene told her.
Finley laughed and whirled around.
‘Where are all those damn taxis when you need them?’ Cora said.
A few cars were passing on the street, headlights glaring on the slick pavement, tires swishing. There didn’t seem to be a cab among them. Nor were there any shops or restaurants in sight where they might take shelter and ask directions - or phone for a cab. There were only apartment buildings with dark entry-ways.
‘I don’t like this,’ Helen said.
‘Where is everyone?’ Abilene said.
‘Staying out of the rain,’ Finley called back.
‘We’re bound to find a taxi sooner or later,’ Vivian said. ‘Or a subway station.’
As they walked past a recessed entryway, a derelict wrapped in a blanket raised his head and yelled, ‘Hey!’ Abilene’s stomach lurched. She hurried past him and looked back. He was out of sight.
‘Wanta ask him for directions?’ Finley asked.
Cora elbowed her and she laughed.
‘This is getting a little too hairy for me,’ Abilene said.
‘Just consider it an adventure. That’s what we’re here for, right? Adventure! ’
‘Getting lost wasn’t what I had in mind,’ Vivian said.
‘Hell, it’s our last night in the Big Apple. At least it’ll be a memorable one.’
‘If we live through it,’ Helen said.
‘At least you can die happy,’ Finley told her. ‘You met Grandpa Munster.’
‘Uh-oh,’ Vivian said. ‘Here comes someone.’
Walking up the sidewalk toward them was a slim man dressed in jeans. His shirt was off. He walked briskly, swinging his shirt beside him.
At least he’s not staggering, Abilene thought.
‘Everyone just stay calm,’ Cora advised. ‘If he tries anything, I’ll handle it.’
As he neared them, he slowed his pace. He was a young man, rather handsome. ‘Are you ladies all right?’ he asked.
‘We’re not sure where we are,’ Vivian told him.
Nodding and frowning, he stopped in front of her. His long hair was pulled back in a pony tail. His wet torso gleamed in the streetlight, and Abilene could see raindrops splashing off his shoulders. ‘I wondered about that,’ he said. ‘If you knew where you were, you wouldn’t be here. This isn’t the best of neighborhoods, you know. You’re heading straight into the Bowery.’
‘Oh dandy,’ Finley said.
‘We’re trying to get back to our hotel,’ Vivian explained. ‘Where are you staying?’
‘The Hilton.’
‘You aren’t going to get there this way.’
‘We’ve been looking for a subway station.’
‘You won’t find one around here. I guess the best bet’d be Canal and Broadway.’
‘Where the hell is that?’ Cora asked.
‘Not far, but… maybe I’d better take you, make sure you get there in one piece.’
‘That bad?’ Cora asked.
‘I get scared and I live here. And I’m not a pretty young woman.’
‘We don’t want to take you out of your way,’ Vivian told him. ‘That’s okay. I was just on my way home anyway. My con-science’d bother me if I let you go on by yourselves.’
‘It’s mighty nice of you,’ Vivian said.
‘I’m Wayne, by the way.’ Cracking a smile, he added, ‘I’ll be your tour guide for this evening’s festivities.’
They introduced themselves, and he nodded a pleasant greeting to each of them.
‘First on the agenda, let’s get you turned around so you’re heading out of harm’s way.’ They parted to let him through, then accompanied him back up Broome Street.
Vivian and Cora walked at his sides, the others following close behind. His wet pony tail hung swaying at the nape of his neck. His jeans hugged his hips so low that the crevice of his buttocks showed and Abilene had doubts that he was wearing underpants.
