It was evening in the historic part of Lewes, Delaware and the moonlight shimmered on the river. Whether the moon was full or not was another question.
"What a pretty full moon" said Mrs. Katel.
"Well, actually, I don't think it's completely full" followed up Mr. Patel, contorting his face somewhat to assess the moon.
"What do you mean?" his wife responded. "If that's not full, I don't know what is".
Mr. Patel continued contorting his face and said "If you examine the lower right-hand edge of the moon, you can see that just a sliver of it is missing".
"What are you talking about?" said Mrs. Katel. "That thing is full."
Mr. Patel then said "I may be wrong, but it may behoove you to get your eyes examined. I may be wrong, but then again I may be right."
To which Mrs. Katel replied "Are you being passive-aggressive?"
"No, I am being aggressive-aggressive."
"Do you mean active-aggressive?"
"Yes, I think so. Does passive-aggressive have a hyphen?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? You just used the term."
The conversation continued in this vein and eventually they returned to the subject of whether the moon was full or not.
"Are you crazy? That thing is full!"
"Well, actually, technically, it's not."
"Are you out of your mind?!! You need to get your brain examined!!"
In the end, they could not agree to disagree, and in the moonlight began to physically wrestle one another on the ground. Mrs. Katel had Mr. Patel in a headlock, then managed to get his arms behind his back. Pinned down on the promenade by the river, face down, Mr. Patel first felt his wrists tied together tightly with a zip tie, then his ankles with her scarf. For the finale, a strip of packing tape was applied to his mouth.
He was unable to move but he could hear Mrs. Katel's footsteps as she wandered off. Feeling a bit exhausted, he decided to get some sleep.
In the morning he was able to break off the zip tie with the help of a nearby iron fence. He then walked to his hotel, where he learned that Mrs. Katel had checked out and left with the rental car.
There really wasn't much choice than to take the ferryboat to Cape May, New Jersey. The ferry left Lewes throughout the day, and it was what they were planning on doing anyway. It was even conceivable that he would see Mrs. Katel on the boat.
The ferry ride was pleasant but he did not see Mrs. Katel. Instead, he slowly ate a pretzel and sipped coffee while gazing at Delaware Bay. When the boat started to rock, a car alarm went off on the lower deck. Since Mr. Patel was a foot passenger, it wasn't his problem.
He didn't see Mrs. Katel, but he did meet someone who identified himself as a Navajo Indian named Gerald, who was exploring the east coast.
"I like to see what's going on in my own country. I heard they built a big city called New York, so I plan to see that next."
"Well that's exactly where I am headed, Gerald, and I can tell you a thing or two about New York."
The two worked out an agreement. When Gerald learned that Mr. Patel was without car, he offered to give him a ride. In exchange, Mr. Patel would share his considerable knowledge of the geography and history of New York.
So when the ferry landed in Cape May, the two got into Gerald's pickup truck and drove up the Garden State Freeway. When they got to the New York metro area, Mr. Patel helped navigate the way through Staten Island and over the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge.
"Is Verrazzano-Narrows hyphenated?" asked Gerald.
"Yes it is" said Mr. Patel.
Then, just as they were crossing the bridge and Mr. Patel started explaining exactly who Giovanni de Verrazzano was, Gerald's pickup truck lifted straight up in the air approximately 1000 feet.
Now anyone who is familiar with the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge knows that it is already very high up relative to the city's topography and that the view is as impressive as it is terrifying for anyone who had a fear of heights, as Mr. Patel famously did.
So imagine being raised 1000 feet higher than the bridge. Gerald said he didn't understand what was going on, but that as a Navajo, he was open to it. Mr. Patel was quaking in his boots, but since the view of all of New York City was so spectacular, he pointed out to Gerald each of the five Burroughs, the Atlantic Ocean, New Jersey, Long Isand, JFK airport, Long Island Sound, Westchester, Connecticut, and many, many other features.
This went on for approximately ten minutes; then Gerald's pickup truck magically lowered itself back on the bridge, and they proceeded into Brooklyn along the BQE.
Due to the strangeness of their experience they agreed that what was needed was to stop at a Starbucks in suburban Nassau County, Long Island.
Over green tea lattes they hatched a plan wherein Gerald would drive Mr. Patel to the Orient Point ferry at the end of Long Island, then head back to New York City. The fact was Gerald was curious about all of New York, and he was as interested in seeing the surrounding areas as he was the city. He was a Native American and he cared about the land, the topography and the geographical nuances.
So they drove east to Long Island's North Fork, stopped at farm stands, had more coffee in Greenport, told jokes, laughed, and agreed to meet some day in the high desert of Arizona.
Meanwhile, Mr. Patel boarded the ferry to New London, Connecticut. It was actually quite similar to the ferry that ran between Lewes and Cape May.
He got comfortable in a seat at a table and gazed at Long Island Sound.
Right then, Mrs. Katel sat herself directly opposite him at the table. She had that sort of loaded gun smile that Southern women are so good at.
"Can I get you a coffee?" she asked, exuding a love that transcends all zip ties, all Zip codes, all misunderstandings, all betrayals, all separation of time and space. It was real love.
"Yes" said Mr. Patel.
- copyright 2018 by P.T. Gachot
