Gutsy
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The Postcards
22nd of May 2012
Staten Island, New York
Consuela Lopez was exhausted and her foot was hurting. She was sitting on the Staten Island ferry on her usual seat right in front of the exit. She needed to get off the ferry fast to make it to the bus half past eleven, or else she would end up waiting for a very long time at St. George Terminal. The ferry’s diesel engine had 9000 horse power and when in motion it sent small vibrations through her skinny body and made her dizzy, but she was aware of her surroundings, she did not feel safe around the passengers and kept a close eye on all of them. She did not dare to close her eyes, in fear that someone would take her purse.
While on the ferry she had placed her legs up to rest, with a newspaper beneath her feet, it would be disrespectful to just let her feet be on the bench. Earlier that morning she had sprained her ankle, when she fell over a wire in her own home. Her job was to clean the executive offices in downtown Manhattan, and this was the last day of a long and hard week. And of course she sprained her ankle on a Friday, so she had the weekend to recover for work on Monday. She could not afford to lose a single paid day, a prayed that the ankle would be fine on Monday. If her ankle still hurt Saturday evening, she would go to church to pray, so that her foot would heal well and fast. She would also show the priest, Rochas, the strange postcard she had received. Maybe he could ease her, as she was feeling quite scared about it.
Consuela was a regular looking person and she did not speak English that well, but she was young and her body was beautiful, so she was always on guard towards anyone who would approach her. A few seats in front of her, there sat a young Latin-American man with a grey sweat-shirt on, looking right at her. He kept smiling at her, and even though she felt nervous in the beginning, there was something about him, something about his white teeth and beautiful brown eyes, which made her smile back at him. He approached her and presented himself to her and spent the last 10 minutes on the ferry with her, while he helped her with her foot.
When the ferry finally arrived, she slowly got up and limped off the ferry and refused his offer of helping her. He followed her, keeping a few steps behind her as if he was protecting her. He offered to drive her home, but she respectfully refused, though due to her walking so slow and the ferry being a few minutes late she did not make it to the bus. So she agreed to let him drive her home, he seemed nice, he was funny and respectful. She accepted his offer, and when he went over to find his car, she crossed her fingers praying for a safe ride home.
When they approached Fingerboard Road, where she lived, his mood changed, and of course she got worried. Her worries grew into fear, as the man drove straight ahead passed her road and ignored her complaints completely. He continued without saying anything down Bay Street, until he made a quick left turn and drove down towards Arthur Von Briesen Park.
When they reached the end of a dark road, she was crying. He yelled at her and pulled out a large knife. He forced her out of the car and grabbed her arm and threatened to hurt her, if she tried to call for help. He no longer worried about her sprained ankle. He forced her through a bunch of bushes in the park down towards the water, while she cried in pain but she was too scared to say anything.
In front of them, she could see the silhouette of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, threatening her. There was not a single person in sight. In a little clearing, he forced her down on the ground as he ripped her purse from her hands and began looking through her belongings while she began to cry even louder. While searching he told her to shut up, while he found a few dollars he placed in his pocket, and then he found a small white postcard with the drawing of a coffin, which was sent to her with the inscription, 22nd of May 2012. He looked at the card while having a sadistic smile on his face.
“Usted piensa que yo le envie esto?” He asked her, ‘Do you believe I sent it?’
“No sé” She cried and shook her head.
“Bueno esto si es de mi parte” He said, ‘But this is for you’
He laughed while loosening his belt.
While on the ferry she had placed her legs up to rest, with a newspaper beneath her feet, it would be disrespectful to just let her feet be on the bench. Earlier that morning she had sprained her ankle, when she fell over a wire in her own home. Her job was to clean the executive offices in downtown Manhattan, and this was the last day of a long and hard week. And of course she sprained her ankle on a Friday, so she had the weekend to recover for work on Monday. She could not afford to lose a single paid day, a prayed that the ankle would be fine on Monday. If her ankle still hurt Saturday evening, she would go to church to pray, so that her foot would heal well and fast. She would also show the priest, Rochas, the strange postcard she had received. Maybe he could ease her, as she was feeling quite scared about it.
Consuela was a regular looking person and she did not speak English that well, but she was young and her body was beautiful, so she was always on guard towards anyone who would approach her. A few seats in front of her, there sat a young Latin-American man with a grey sweat-shirt on, looking right at her. He kept smiling at her, and even though she felt nervous in the beginning, there was something about him, something about his white teeth and beautiful brown eyes, which made her smile back at him. He approached her and presented himself to her and spent the last 10 minutes on the ferry with her, while he helped her with her foot.
When the ferry finally arrived, she slowly got up and limped off the ferry and refused his offer of helping her. He followed her, keeping a few steps behind her as if he was protecting her. He offered to drive her home, but she respectfully refused, though due to her walking so slow and the ferry being a few minutes late she did not make it to the bus. So she agreed to let him drive her home, he seemed nice, he was funny and respectful. She accepted his offer, and when he went over to find his car, she crossed her fingers praying for a safe ride home.
When they approached Fingerboard Road, where she lived, his mood changed, and of course she got worried. Her worries grew into fear, as the man drove straight ahead passed her road and ignored her complaints completely. He continued without saying anything down Bay Street, until he made a quick left turn and drove down towards Arthur Von Briesen Park.
When they reached the end of a dark road, she was crying. He yelled at her and pulled out a large knife. He forced her out of the car and grabbed her arm and threatened to hurt her, if she tried to call for help. He no longer worried about her sprained ankle. He forced her through a bunch of bushes in the park down towards the water, while she cried in pain but she was too scared to say anything.
In front of them, she could see the silhouette of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, threatening her. There was not a single person in sight. In a little clearing, he forced her down on the ground as he ripped her purse from her hands and began looking through her belongings while she began to cry even louder. While searching he told her to shut up, while he found a few dollars he placed in his pocket, and then he found a small white postcard with the drawing of a coffin, which was sent to her with the inscription, 22nd of May 2012. He looked at the card while having a sadistic smile on his face.
“Usted piensa que yo le envie esto?” He asked her, ‘Do you believe I sent it?’
“No sé” She cried and shook her head.
“Bueno esto si es de mi parte” He said, ‘But this is for you’
He laughed while loosening his belt.
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