Core Nature Thing

 

“Haaaalloooo! OOOhhhh! Yooohoooo!”

I turn around, pausing against the cold grey wind and steep incline on my way up Clinton Hill. A tall, darkly clad figure is hollering at me, waving and maybe smiling---can’t tell because of the mask. Who the hell knows me? And beyond that, who knows me and would be hollering at me?

            “Haaallooo!” The figure is closer now and I see who it is---V, the Scottish Lady. As she approaches me, I back away, hyperaware of social distancing. I’ve avoided the virus for nearly a year, now. No need to get it when the vaccine is on my horizon.

            Yet, she’s still striding toward me, her eyes sparkling, her thin blue mask heaving in and out as I decide that I have no choice but to wait for her. See what she wants. She’s probably just being neighborly, but I’m in a rush. Have a class to teach on Zoom in an hour and just wanted to get some air before 3 hours in front of the computer.

            “How are you?” she asks, stepping in stride with me as I start up the hill. Damn. I don’t want to walk with her. It scares me. I know people walk with each other during this Pandemic, donning their masks, but keeping the social distance? How is this possible while you’re walking.

            It’s not.

            People naturally veer closer to those they’re talking to. And the Scottish woman is no exception as she walks too close to me as we march up the little hill. What do I do? Do I tell her to get away from me? Do I run up on the sidewalk, out of the street where we currently are walking. If I’m up on the sidewalk and she’s in the street, then maybe that’s enough distance. But then how do you carry on a conversation?

            Gawd. I’m so sick of it all! I just want everything to go back to ‘normal’—whatever that will look like once everyone is vaccinated, or most people are.

            I don’t tell her what I’m really thinking. “I’m fine.”

            “Really?” She’s dubious. “Most people I ask....” She makes the hand gesture, palm down, rocking slightly that means, I’m okay. Or as they say in Spanish, “Así así”.

            “Yeah,” I am up on the sidewalk—she’s on the street now—yelling the conversation at me. I yell back, “I’m working a lot, so I guess I don’t have time to dwell on things...”

            “Oh, what kind of work do you do if you don’t mind my asking?” When did it become not okay to ask people what kind of work they do? Maybe it’s a European thing. My French friend (I have no idea what job she does after years) told me once that it’s not polite, or even rude, to ask people what they do for a living.

            I find this weird, but I’m American. “I teach writing at FFU,” I say.

            “Oh! I would like to take writing from you! I write! Well, I try to write. I write every day. I don’t always like it. But I can’t not do it. Do you know what I mean?”

            We’re at the top of the little hill now, pausing for a moment. Her blue mask continues to heave in and out, in and out, with each breath. It seems so thin and insubstantial. I’m scared that it’s not enough protection. Couldn’t spittle and air come through it and land on me even with the mask?

            I want to get away from her being this close. Even though I like her. Even though she’s talking about writing. But everyone does once I say I’m a writing teacher. Everyone is a writer.

            I tell her that, yeah, most writers feel at odds with the craft at times.

            She nods, taking this in. Then asks me if she can take writing from me. I tell her that sometimes I take private clients but not now. I’m too busy. I’ll keep in touch with her.

            I glance down the hill toward the right, wondering which way she’s headed so I can go the opposite. Again, it’s so weird that we all have to worry about this. Yet, the Scottish Lady doesn’t seem worried at all.            

            “Walking is good,” I offer, “but I miss swimming.” Why am I telling her this? I wish I were in the pool right now!

            “You’re a swimmer, are you?”

            “Yeah, but it’s hard right now. The pools are either closed or booked up. I did swim in the bay. though,  during the summer.”

            “Oh, did you now!” she exclaims. “That is a very Core Nature Thing to do!”

            I nod. Wondering what the hell that means but liking it a lot. Is swimming at my core and so it’s a natural thing to do? Maybe, she’s got it!

            She turns to head up the next little hill and I take my opportunity to head in the opposite direction.

            “Bye, now!” she waves, her long legs carrying her up the incline.

            “Bye,” I holler back to her, my core nature switching to walking as the brisk wind hits me in the face. Thinking how at least I have another walking story. Writing--that’s my Core Nature thing to do!