A Day in the Park

It was a beautiful fall day, and as his destination was only a few blocks past the other side of Central Park, the man decided to forego using the subway and enjoy a walk in the park.

Taking a short cut across the center of the park loosely paralleling 72nd Street, he was only about a hundred yards into the park when he spotted the man in the electric wheelchair, squarely centered in the middle of the path.  As he got closer, he noticed that the man was pushing hard against the large rear wheels of the chair, desperately trying to get the stalled chair to move forward.

As he walked closer, he asked, “Having a problem?”

“Yes, my chair just stopped and now everything is dead.  I think it’s an electrical problem, but I can’t disengage the gears.  I’ve got to meet my sister in front of the museum.”  Once again, the chair-bound man used both of his arms to push on the wheels on either side of his chair, but only managed to move the heavy chair forward about a foot.

Looking past the wheelchair, the man could see the top of the Museum of Natural History directly ahead, but it was still more than halfway across the park.  Looking at his watch, he realized that he still had some time left before his appointment, and he really couldn’t ignore the plight of the man in the chair.

“Hi, my name’s Jack.  Let me give you a hand.”  

Walking behind the chair, he grasped the two handles and pushed towards the museum in the distance.  Immediately, he was surprised to see that despite pushing forcefully against the chair, it would just barely move.

“Thank you.  I’m Ben.  I really appreciate this, I don’t know what I would do if I missed my sister.  We’re visiting and I don’t know this city at all.”

Grunting with effort, Jack leaned into the chair, pushing as hard as he could.  Though the chair moved, it felt like the chair had no wheels, and that he was pushing a boulder across the sidewalk.

“Can you disengage the motor or something? It just barely moves.”

“It doesn’t release,” Ben answered.  “This is a new chair, and everything is electric, even the transmission.  I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Jack continued to push the chair, but it was slow hard work and no one was volunteering to help.  “Damn,” Jack thought.  “I can’t leave him now, but this is impossible.”

Little by little, the two men and the chair inched down the sidewalk, getting closer and closer to Central Park West.  As they inched past the Turtle Pond, Jack glanced between the trees and noticed a man admiring the statue of the two lovers.

Standing alone in a small clearing, the wizard admired the statue of a pair of lovers, a man and a woman holding hands, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes.  Just by looking at the pair, he could tell that the sculptor had managed to capture a moment in time:  the two were just about to fall into each other’s embrace and share a kiss.

Year in and year out, through all the seasons, the pair were the epitome of unfulfilled love.  Everyone could see the beauty of a great love in their eyes, but, being especially empathetic, the wizard could feel the endless sadness that the two lovers could never complete that for which they had desperately yearned for years.

Though the wizard had frequently admired the statue, today he had a little free time on his hands.  It was a beautiful fall day, and the wizard was in an exceptionally good mood.  As he walked closer to the statue, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the pathos of the pair and acted impulsively.   

Glancing around, he discovered that, except for a man focused on pushing a wheel chair down the sidewalk, he was completely alone.   Drawing his wand out from beneath his jacket, he waved the wand towards the two lovers.

“AD VITUM!”, he chanted.

And instantly, the statues began to move, as the pair of lovers awakened, as if from a deep sleep, coming to life.

“My friends,” said the wizard.  “I am afraid that even my magic can only give you life for a single hour.  I suggest you use your time wisely.”

Immediately, the two lovers giggled and jumped behind some nearby bushes. For quite a while, all the wizard heard was the rustling of the bushes and quiet happy giggles.  Respecting their privacy, the wizard waited on a nearby bench, satisfied that finally the two young lovers would find happiness together.

Finally, the two lovers, hand in hand, came out of the bushes with big smiles on their faces.

“I see you have used your time well," said the wizard. "But, you still have almost 30 minutes left if you would like to do it again.”

With huge smiles on their faces, the pair nodded their heads and hurriedly jumped back behind the bushes.  "This time," the male statue said, "You hold the pigeon down while I shit on him."

Meanwhile, Jack had sweated through his shirt, but they were finally nearing the museum. He could hardly believe that he had pushed this cumbersome chair all the way across the middle of the park.  

“Where are you going to meet your sister?” Jack asked.  He really didn’t want to push that impossible chair a foot further than he had to.

“She said to meet her in front of the museum and we could go look at the paintings together,” Ben answered.  “She’s an art historian.”

Jack froze and the chair stopped moving instantly.

“Art work?  This is the Museum of Natural History.  There’s no artwork in there.  Was she meeting you here or at the Metropolitan Museum of Art?”  Even as Jack said the words, he knew what the answer was going to be.

“She was going to meet me at the art museum.  But, I didn’t know where it was.”

Jack bent over, putting his hands on his knees, breathing deeply.

“This is Central Park and the Met is on one side of the park and the Natural History Museum is on the other side, on Fifth Avenue, pretty close to where we started.”

Ben, obviously upset, answered, “What am I going to do?  I have to meet my sister...”

“I have an idea,” Jack interrupted.  It was an idea born of desperation, for he knew damn well he could never push that damn wheelchair back across the entire park.  Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he pulled a couple of bills out and thrust them into Ben’s hands.

“Look, I have to go, but New York has special wheelchair accessible taxis.  You’re on Central Park West, and it should be no problem to flag one down.  Have them take you to either the Met or back to your hotel.”

And with that, Jack rushed off, while behind him, Ben was profusely thanking him.

Ben continued to watch the man rush off as he pocketed the bills.  Wondering why the men never looked back, he slid his right hand under the armrest and flipped the recessed switch.  Immediately, the chair began to hum and slightly vibrate.  Resting a single finger on the joystick, Ben quickly maneuvered the chair around and moved a hundred yards back into the park, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk where he had a good view of the top of the three-story Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Once again flipping off the power to the chair, Ben thought to himself, “It really is another beautiful day in the park.”