Living for today …
“I know just exactly how you feeling right now,” said Alva. “Because I stood right here in this city where you standing many years ago and I looked around me the way you looking around you right now. And I wondered all them thoughts that are in your head this minute.”
“And you stayed?” Kitty was totally bewildered by the sheer number of people. But there was also the noise and the smells. And the big terminal and all the buses and the loudspeakers announcing arrivals and departures. She felt as if she had been dropped into a cyclone and the world was spinning around her and she was caught inside the storm.
Alva laughed. “Course I stayed. But I wasn’t alone. And you not alone neither. You come on along with me and you’ll see. Brooklyn is not like this. It’s nice where I live. A house on a street with trees and yards. And neighbors and people. Kids and dogs and even a rooster crowing at dawn for that matter.”
“But we just met. I hardly know you,” Kitty dropped her head a little, not meaning to offend Alva or show mistrust.
“That’s right, but do you know them nuns? I got a feeling for you, Kitty, and I just be hoping you making the right call for yourself.”
“I’d have to call the convent and tell them I’m not coming today. And I’d have to get a refund on the rest of my ticket. Or maybe they’d let me use it later. I’d have to ask.” Kitty talked almost to herself, thinking aloud, not sure about anything anymore. “Maybe I could stay for a few days. But trying to find my family. I wouldn’t know where to start. I don’t know what to do.”
“Just take one step at a time. Today live just for today. And tomorrow will take care of itself,” Alva told her. “That’s what my mama always told me. And she was right. Ain’t no sense in trying to live the future, or you sure going to miss the here and now.”
Kitty looked up at the ceiling of the big station, so far above her. It was like looking up at the night sky, so small did she feel in its vast space. She took one step forward, her fingers wrapped around the handle of her bag, and then she looked at Alva, whose round face looked happy, and she said, “I think I will stay with you for a little bit.”
“You got the number of that convent? You can use my cell phone,” Alva held it out and Kitty hesitated, looking at the tiny blue thing, smaller than the palm of her hand, as if it were some baby alien, about to hatch.