He stood over me, panting. I could taste blood in my mouth. The sharp pain in my hip prevented me from feeling all of the little rocks and shards of glass I had landed upon. My left eye was begining to swell. Speaking jarred it and I whinced as I spoke.
He turned and walked slowly away. I sucked my lip. I must have bitten it when I fell. I set my hands down in the diterus and felt the rocks and glass as I pushed down to heave myself up. I couldn't put my weight on that leg and found myself squinting. I took a step and hopped the other leg along. It was slow progress down the road way. People lined up along the way refused to look me in the eye. No, I was wrong. Some young men were staring at me and snickering. "Was it something I said?" they mocked me. An older lady, dressed in a long narrow gown, shushed them, grabbing at them with her long fingers on their arms.
i looked imploringly at her, but she turned her face from me. I continued my limp hopping down the road. The pain in my hip was increasing with each step. I grabbed on to a lamp post and leaned against it for a while. The cool metal of the post felt good against my raw face. I held on to it gratefully until I heard a voice say, "you better get on out of here."
I blinked back tears. I wouldn't cry, not here, not now. Later at home with a large whiskey at hand I would probably cry. Nothing would compel me to cry here.
I looked around, but couldn't tell who had spoken. A mother, with her children pushed behind her, was glaring at me. With a sigh, I pushed away from the lamp post. With a step and shuffle hop, I started back down the road. Never had a city block seemed so long. Step, shuffle hop, step, shuffle hop, step, shuffle hop.
At last I could see the end of the block. I wanted to run, but had to continue to step, shuffle hop, step, shuffle hop, step, shuffle hop. The other leg was starting to cramp, but I could see the end. Cars were streaming along. I could smell their exhaust while they roared in my ears. The crowd was changing here. More and more people looked at me and gasped. If it looked as I felt, I'm sure that I was quite the site to see. Even here no one did more than get out of my way.
Almost to the end of the road and the transectting street, I was shaky, but I had to keep going. I kept watching the traffic drive past. I hadn't seen a cab pass and was starting to wonder if I would have to take the bus. Right now I hoped for the solitude of a cab regardless of the expense.
At last, I was at the intersection. A couple of ladies looked at me concernedly, then turned to each other and whispered. They started to head toward me when I saw a cab. I raised my hand hoping he would see me and would stop. I knew I couldn't whistle.
He stopped. I limped the last couple of steps to the cab and pulled the door open. I held onto the frame so I wouldn't collapse into the back seat. Finally I was in the cab.
Instead of asking where I was going, the cabbie just sat there regarding me in his rear view mirror. His gaze took in my swollen eye and now puffing lip. I had dirt smeared on my face and I was certain that I probably had a twig or two on my hair. I had done my hair so carefully that morning, pulled low into a conservative bun that covered my neck.
I met his gaze in the mirror defiantly. I had not gone through all of this to be stared at by a cabbie. I wanted to go home and find an ice pack or twelve.
"You obviously did your homework," he said gesturing to my clothes. I had made sure that I was modestly covered. I had dressed in one of the long narrow dresses. I had been curious about them and hadn't wanted to give any offense. I nodded my head, which was a mistake,as it jarred my eye.
"So what did you do?" He asked.
"I don't know," I said grimly, "must have been something I said."
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