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Delilah
“Wow.” I turn in circles, my head tilted all the way back as my eyes try to take in everything around me. I’ve never seen anything like this beyond my computer screen. It is overwhelming with a mix of excitement. People buzz all around me, clearly not seeing what I am. How can they rush around so easily and not stop to look at all of the lights and towering buildings? I stand and turn my camera lens around to take a selfie in Times Square. As I’m taking my picture someone bumps into me, almost knocking me over. I turn around, annoyed, but remind myself that I’m in a foreign place. I need to be courteous.
“Sorry,” I say, my eyes flying to the man in the suit who knocked into me. He looks back at me like I have two heads, not returning an apology of his own as he keeps on moving, shaking his head. He bumped into me. This is probably the ninth time that has happened since I stepped into Times Square.
I’m not sure where everyone’s manners have gone today. Still, I can’t help myself from saying sorry even if I wasn’t the one who bumped into them. The apology pops out of my mouth as easy as breathing. It’s the polite thing to do. I pull my eyes from the man as he disappears into the sea of people.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to see New York for the first time. Growing up in a small town, the lure of something different has pulled at me. Now that I’m here anxiety starts to trickle up my spine, but my mind is too flooded with everything happening around me to pay attention to it. I won’t be like my Ma, who would never go far from home. Heck, she didn’t even want me going far from her. My ear still hurts from when I called home this afternoon to tell them where I was. The scream Ma let out was louder than the roar of a rodeo when a bull sends a man flying.
I close my eyes for a moment, trying not to let the things she and Dad always said about the city being scary affect me. I try to forget their words about me not being equipped for big city life. My Ma always said I was too naïve and too sweet. She truly believes my blood runs sweeter than others’ and it’s her job to protect me. I was born with my heart on the outside of my chest, which led my Ma to believe I was special.
They knew about my heart condition before I was born. I came out of Ma and went right into surgery. They said it took three surgeons and a team of highly skilled nurses to get it back where it belonged. My mom said the condition was as rare as I was. She never let me go far from her growing up and to this day she acts like my heart still rests on the outside of me. I always joke with Ma and tell her that I now wear my heart on my sleeve but she doesn’t think it’s funny. I laugh to myself, thinking about how mad she gets at that joke. I don’t need her to remind me about how delicate I am. Each time I get undressed I see the scar and I’m reminded of how I entered this world.
I suck in a deep breath, scrunching up my nose as I do. I get a whiff of something worse than cow manure. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to some of the smells here. I’ve never thought about what the city might smell like. All I knew was I wanted to come here since the first time my dad told me he was going on a business trip. I looked it up and became fascinated with it.
I knew where New York was. I learned about it in school and watched it on TV. Five years ago I really started researching what the big city was all about. I became obsessed with finding out everything that I possibly could. Through my online research my eyes were opened to a whole new world.
My dad goes to New York City every year. I beg him every single time to take me but he always says he is going for business and I can’t go along with him. I know that he’s telling me the truth, but that doesn’t curb my disappointment. He always meets with a silent investor. One that had helped him fund a new product he and Colton developed. They needed the funds to increase the production in order to get it to other farmers. Thinking back on it, I was almost positive that my Dad said no to me going with him because Ma didn’t want me to. Dad always gives Ma what she wants so that meant that I stayed home.
