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A girl sat sideways on a window ledge sixty feet above
the sidewalk. Her back rested against the stonework
that framed the window. She had one knee crooked so
her left foot could rest against the opposite wall.
Her other leg dangled freely into space. It was a long
drop to the street but she didn't seem to mind. From
time to time she gave the air a nonchalant kick.
Below her the traffic edged forward. Cars honked, Police
tow trucks waited patiently at crossings even when the
Don't Walk sign was lit. A man cleaned litter outside
a hamburger restaurant. The Spring equinox had just
passed and for the first time this year she wore nothing
warmer than blue jeans and a fleece jacket.
She glanced in through the window. It was early but
the office was already busy. From her pocket she pulled
a coiled black tube. The instrument was a stethoscope
such as you might find in any doctor's surgery. If you'd
been there you might have seen her scoop her blonde
hair behind her ears and fit the earpieces. You might
have seen her place the other end against the glass
of the window, and lean slightly forward as if to concentrate
on the sounds inside the room and block out the noise
of the traffic. You might have seen her shift the device
a little to the right so as to hear better.
On the other hand it's unlikely that you noticed any
of this, not because you weren't there, although the
truth is that you probably weren't, but because the
stethoscope, like the girl, was invisible.
She squinted at the paperwork on the desks inside the
office, trying to make out some of the words. A woman
was making a telephone call. A man was offering to run
out for coffee.
The girl's presence on the ledge had little real point,
though she was in denial over this fact. She had waited
and waited, and finally, her patience at an end and
her desperation mounting, she had decided to try to
find some answers on her own account.
A telephone on the nearest desk rang. A hand reached
out and picked up the receiver and then, through the
earpieces, the girl heard what she had hoped for. "Hello,
Human Resources. This is Patty."
Perfect. Perfect. Now, how to get inside?
A cry from below interrupted the girl's thoughts. The
Manhattan streets ring out all day with shouts, laughter,
cries, screams, profanities, whoops of joy. It is nothing
noteworthy. Cities are noisy and full of life. Manhattan
is especially full of noise and full of life. People,
by and large, just ignore most of the noise and try
to get on with things. Except this cry sounded a little
more heartfelt than most, a shade more serious. The
girl looked down and scanned the sidewalk.
"Stop!" The voice came from her right and
she had to turn on the ledge to see what was happening.
A woman on the sidewalk was turning around and around,
pleading to the passing crowd. Along the street, moving
fast, she saw a young man carrying a red purse.
The woman cursed loudly and shouted for help in vain.
The girl sighed. She gave one last longing glance into
the office but she knew her task there would have to
wait. She folded up the stethoscope and zipped it into
a pocket, and then slipped gracefully off the ledge
and flew west after the man and the purse.
Originally published May 11, 2002
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