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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Drama
- Published: 01/11/2023
Hold on and Trust me!
At the time of this incident, we were living at the Christopher Columbus Homes Public Housing projects in Newark New Jersey, where one could never be sure when the elevator would be out of order or malfunctioning in some totally unpredictable way. For example, if you got in, there was no guarantee that the door would open to let you out. In that case, someone needed to open the door from the outside or if the elevator had not stopped functioning, to try another floor as my parents did.
Neither was there any guarantee that the stairwells would be lighted. So it was not that much of a surprise that late afternoon, when the elevator door refused to open on the 11th floor, and my parents, who were carrying grocery bags, were forced to get off on the twelfth floor instead, nor the condition in which they found the stairwell they would choose to use.
Now, from the twelfth floor, there were two ways to get down to our apartment on the eleventh. One was to use the stairwell at the end of the long hallway. The other was to take the stairwell next to the elevator and walk towards the apartment on the eleventh floor. Unfortunately, my parents chose to walk the length of the hallway on the 12th floor in order to use the stairway that lead directly to our apartment door on the 11th.
Nothing unusual. A totally logical decision, except that they found the stairwell nearer to our apartment was pitch-dark. This made my mother hesitate for fear of falling.
“I think we should go back and take the other stairwell which is lighted! Here we might stumble in the dark and fall,” she said in a worried tone of voice.
“What?" my father responded while staring at her wide-mouthed, as he always did whenever he felt that she or anyone else was suggesting something that he considered absurd.
"After I’m already here? Just a few feet away from our doorway downstairs? With all these groceries? No way I’m going to lug all these groceries all the way back down that long hallway when I am just a few feet from my apartment-door downstairs!"
"But we might trip and fall!" she objected hoping that he would agree.
"Just hold on tightly to my arm. I will make sure that we don’t fall.”
So after haggling over it a few moments more, she finally went along with his suggestion. They entered the stairwell, the hallway-door behind them slammed shut, and everything became pitch-dark as they began cautiously inching their way toward the steps, and my father groping for the stairwell handrail to his right, in order to guide him down and give him stability. When suddenly my mother noticed something disturbing:
“This floor is wet, and slippery!" she announced in a tremulous fearful voice.
“Don’t worry about the wetness and the slipping." my father answered confidently. “Just hold on tightly to my arm, and I will get you down safely!"
“We are going to slip Hipolito!” she insisted as one of her high-heeled shoes suddenly lost traction, and she was forced to brace herself by grabbing his arm with her free hand even tighter.
“Listen," he said while holding onto the handrail, and with his feet just a few inches short of the descending steps, "...how many times have you seen me lose my balance? Eh? Have you ever seen me lose my balance and fall on slippery ice?” my father immediately shot back.
This was definitely not an idle boast. He was 100% right. You see, he never had lost his balance on slippery, ice, and we had indeed repeatedly observed in awe as he would totter at all kinds of weird angles, and always manage to remain standing even while being buffeted from all directions by wind-driven snow.
"Ave Maria! ["Hail Mary!"] Muchacho! How did you do that?" my mom would always say, and he would remain silently proud of his accomplishment as we continued heading home.
“Bueno, yes, you are right," she finally admitted, after recalling all those impressive, almost supernatural balance-demonstrations during extremely inclement weather when he seemed totally impervious to gravity. "I have never seen you lose your balance on ice. But don't you think that-"
“But don't I think, nothing!" he shot back immediately, "Absolutely no difference! Why don’t you trust me? I assure you, that if you hold onto my arm tightly, you are perfectly safe. Chica! We are wasting time!”
“But are you sure we aren’t going to fall, Hipolito?”
"You still are not listening to me, right?" the argument continued in the total darkness. "I never fall. Just trust my balance, and hold on tight! OK? Is that too much for me to ask of you? Is it? Eh?”
“OK I am going to trust your exceptional balance because you promised that we are not going to fall, and I trust your word! That's the only reason, because I trust your word.” she responded, sounding as if she was referring to some infallible, messianic figure.
“As I said, nothing to worry about!" he pontificated. "Just hold on tightly, and remember, no matter what happens, or what you feel me doing, do not let go of my arm. What did I just say?” he asked patiently, in order to make absolutely certain that she perfectly understood his instructions.
“You said don't let go of your arm no matter what happens or whatever I feel you doing." she obediently responded as if she had been considering his word sacrosanct.
"Exactly!" he said confidently as an added reassurance.
With that, they cautiously approached the edge of the steps. She had her free arm wrapped tightly around his arm in a death grip, while his other arm was extended in order to grip the stairway hand-railings. The groceries were being precariously cradled by their left arms.
Now, just as he had promised, his first two steps were secure, while my mom kept slipping and yelling out, "We are going to fall!" and holding on tighter to her only means of salvation when suddenly my father's footing gave way and he took her with him still hanging confidently onto his arm as he had instructed her to do straight down towards the wet stairway platform below.
His words as he lost his balance were “La Ostra!" Her words as she finally realized that they were definitely on their way towards the floor were: “Tu madre!" ["Your mother!"] Of course, the groceries went flying all over the place.
I was watching TV in the living room when I heard what sounded like an explosion in the stairwell next to our door. I heard a vehement argument that sounded like my parents. Then the frantic pounding on the door with my mom cursing and my father cursing as well in order to assure her that he was also suffering from the incident.
They both entered and stood by the apartment door in the living room and had the following conversation as my mother was still effusively hurling invectives at my dad who was standing there sheepishly and silently absorbing all the accusations until he finally decided to speak up.
"When you felt that I was was falling, why didn’t you release my arm?" he calmly asked as if totally oblivious to all the previous instructions that he had given her.
“Because you told me clearly that no matter what happened, I was to hold on to you, and I trusted you." she said blinking rapidly in confusion as he stood frowning at her suspiciously with and incredulous look on his pale, pug-nosed face. After tightly pursing his thin lips in disapproval while slightly shaking his head slowly, he responded with:
“I didn't mean that if you felt me falling you should go down with me! You know? You didn't know that I didn't mean that? That's the strange way that you understood what I said? Ha! Ha! Ha! Hay virgen!" he said, shaking his head more vigorously as if totally unable to comprehend how someone could ever reach such an absurd conclusion.
After staring at him incredulously for a few seconds as if trying to decipher some totally unsolvable puzzle, she responded with:
"You told me repeatedly and very clearly that it was impossible for you to fall! Didn’t you, Hipolito? Didn't you? Told me to have faith in your balance. Remember?"
“Well, yes, that is true. That is what I said! But when I started falling, did you know that I was falling?" he responded squinting one small, dark suspicious eye at her.
“Yes, I felt that you were falling, but you said...
“Entonces, caso cerrado!" ["Then case closed!"] my father announced confidently and began walking away.
“Case closed, huh?" she asked, as she gave him her customary up-and-down, sizing-him-up look. “Just like that? Right? You were the one who insisted on using those dark, and slippery stairways, not me! I told you repeatedly, but since you are a cabeza de hierro,[literally: an iron head] you didn’t listen-right? You know what? Now you are the one whose going to fetch those groceries in that dark, wet hallway, because I am not! Or else there is no dinner." she added as an incentive.
Of course he wanted to eat dinner and calmly took care of the task with no complaints.
Hold on and Trust me!(Radrook)
Hold on and Trust me!
At the time of this incident, we were living at the Christopher Columbus Homes Public Housing projects in Newark New Jersey, where one could never be sure when the elevator would be out of order or malfunctioning in some totally unpredictable way. For example, if you got in, there was no guarantee that the door would open to let you out. In that case, someone needed to open the door from the outside or if the elevator had not stopped functioning, to try another floor as my parents did.
Neither was there any guarantee that the stairwells would be lighted. So it was not that much of a surprise that late afternoon, when the elevator door refused to open on the 11th floor, and my parents, who were carrying grocery bags, were forced to get off on the twelfth floor instead, nor the condition in which they found the stairwell they would choose to use.
Now, from the twelfth floor, there were two ways to get down to our apartment on the eleventh. One was to use the stairwell at the end of the long hallway. The other was to take the stairwell next to the elevator and walk towards the apartment on the eleventh floor. Unfortunately, my parents chose to walk the length of the hallway on the 12th floor in order to use the stairway that lead directly to our apartment door on the 11th.
Nothing unusual. A totally logical decision, except that they found the stairwell nearer to our apartment was pitch-dark. This made my mother hesitate for fear of falling.
“I think we should go back and take the other stairwell which is lighted! Here we might stumble in the dark and fall,” she said in a worried tone of voice.
“What?" my father responded while staring at her wide-mouthed, as he always did whenever he felt that she or anyone else was suggesting something that he considered absurd.
"After I’m already here? Just a few feet away from our doorway downstairs? With all these groceries? No way I’m going to lug all these groceries all the way back down that long hallway when I am just a few feet from my apartment-door downstairs!"
"But we might trip and fall!" she objected hoping that he would agree.
"Just hold on tightly to my arm. I will make sure that we don’t fall.”
So after haggling over it a few moments more, she finally went along with his suggestion. They entered the stairwell, the hallway-door behind them slammed shut, and everything became pitch-dark as they began cautiously inching their way toward the steps, and my father groping for the stairwell handrail to his right, in order to guide him down and give him stability. When suddenly my mother noticed something disturbing:
“This floor is wet, and slippery!" she announced in a tremulous fearful voice.
“Don’t worry about the wetness and the slipping." my father answered confidently. “Just hold on tightly to my arm, and I will get you down safely!"
“We are going to slip Hipolito!” she insisted as one of her high-heeled shoes suddenly lost traction, and she was forced to brace herself by grabbing his arm with her free hand even tighter.
“Listen," he said while holding onto the handrail, and with his feet just a few inches short of the descending steps, "...how many times have you seen me lose my balance? Eh? Have you ever seen me lose my balance and fall on slippery ice?” my father immediately shot back.
This was definitely not an idle boast. He was 100% right. You see, he never had lost his balance on slippery, ice, and we had indeed repeatedly observed in awe as he would totter at all kinds of weird angles, and always manage to remain standing even while being buffeted from all directions by wind-driven snow.
"Ave Maria! ["Hail Mary!"] Muchacho! How did you do that?" my mom would always say, and he would remain silently proud of his accomplishment as we continued heading home.
“Bueno, yes, you are right," she finally admitted, after recalling all those impressive, almost supernatural balance-demonstrations during extremely inclement weather when he seemed totally impervious to gravity. "I have never seen you lose your balance on ice. But don't you think that-"
“But don't I think, nothing!" he shot back immediately, "Absolutely no difference! Why don’t you trust me? I assure you, that if you hold onto my arm tightly, you are perfectly safe. Chica! We are wasting time!”
“But are you sure we aren’t going to fall, Hipolito?”
"You still are not listening to me, right?" the argument continued in the total darkness. "I never fall. Just trust my balance, and hold on tight! OK? Is that too much for me to ask of you? Is it? Eh?”
“OK I am going to trust your exceptional balance because you promised that we are not going to fall, and I trust your word! That's the only reason, because I trust your word.” she responded, sounding as if she was referring to some infallible, messianic figure.
“As I said, nothing to worry about!" he pontificated. "Just hold on tightly, and remember, no matter what happens, or what you feel me doing, do not let go of my arm. What did I just say?” he asked patiently, in order to make absolutely certain that she perfectly understood his instructions.
“You said don't let go of your arm no matter what happens or whatever I feel you doing." she obediently responded as if she had been considering his word sacrosanct.
"Exactly!" he said confidently as an added reassurance.
With that, they cautiously approached the edge of the steps. She had her free arm wrapped tightly around his arm in a death grip, while his other arm was extended in order to grip the stairway hand-railings. The groceries were being precariously cradled by their left arms.
Now, just as he had promised, his first two steps were secure, while my mom kept slipping and yelling out, "We are going to fall!" and holding on tighter to her only means of salvation when suddenly my father's footing gave way and he took her with him still hanging confidently onto his arm as he had instructed her to do straight down towards the wet stairway platform below.
His words as he lost his balance were “La Ostra!" Her words as she finally realized that they were definitely on their way towards the floor were: “Tu madre!" ["Your mother!"] Of course, the groceries went flying all over the place.
I was watching TV in the living room when I heard what sounded like an explosion in the stairwell next to our door. I heard a vehement argument that sounded like my parents. Then the frantic pounding on the door with my mom cursing and my father cursing as well in order to assure her that he was also suffering from the incident.
They both entered and stood by the apartment door in the living room and had the following conversation as my mother was still effusively hurling invectives at my dad who was standing there sheepishly and silently absorbing all the accusations until he finally decided to speak up.
"When you felt that I was was falling, why didn’t you release my arm?" he calmly asked as if totally oblivious to all the previous instructions that he had given her.
“Because you told me clearly that no matter what happened, I was to hold on to you, and I trusted you." she said blinking rapidly in confusion as he stood frowning at her suspiciously with and incredulous look on his pale, pug-nosed face. After tightly pursing his thin lips in disapproval while slightly shaking his head slowly, he responded with:
“I didn't mean that if you felt me falling you should go down with me! You know? You didn't know that I didn't mean that? That's the strange way that you understood what I said? Ha! Ha! Ha! Hay virgen!" he said, shaking his head more vigorously as if totally unable to comprehend how someone could ever reach such an absurd conclusion.
After staring at him incredulously for a few seconds as if trying to decipher some totally unsolvable puzzle, she responded with:
"You told me repeatedly and very clearly that it was impossible for you to fall! Didn’t you, Hipolito? Didn't you? Told me to have faith in your balance. Remember?"
“Well, yes, that is true. That is what I said! But when I started falling, did you know that I was falling?" he responded squinting one small, dark suspicious eye at her.
“Yes, I felt that you were falling, but you said...
“Entonces, caso cerrado!" ["Then case closed!"] my father announced confidently and began walking away.
“Case closed, huh?" she asked, as she gave him her customary up-and-down, sizing-him-up look. “Just like that? Right? You were the one who insisted on using those dark, and slippery stairways, not me! I told you repeatedly, but since you are a cabeza de hierro,[literally: an iron head] you didn’t listen-right? You know what? Now you are the one whose going to fetch those groceries in that dark, wet hallway, because I am not! Or else there is no dinner." she added as an incentive.
Of course he wanted to eat dinner and calmly took care of the task with no complaints.
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