Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Eye Witness

3/22/16
I’ve got off work this week, so I decide I should take the ol’ doggie on an extended walk. We trot down from Innis all the way to Market and grab a coffee and corn muffin at Alex’s restaurant. It’s a little brisk out but not uncomfortable. I take a bite of my muffin and stick the rest in my pocket and get the leash and coffee situated before we carry on walking.


We take Main St. back. I see a few people hanging out in front of that new deli next to the Heritage Center. Then I hear the yelling. My eyes dart to the left to see a man and a woman across the street. The sight stops me in my tracks. He’s pointing his finger, six feet of rage towering over this five foot woman wrapped in a puff coat. She’s crying, “Get away from me” “Nah, you don’t pull that shit bitch!” I can’t make out much, but it’s something about owing money. “Please, someone get him AWAY from me!” She yells. The men outside the deli aren’t more than ten feet away, but they don’t move. I can hardly blame them. I haven’t moved either. My mind is racing. “You wanna call the cops bitch” he yells, “go ahead and fuckin’ call ‘em!”


Yea, call the cops, I’ve got my hand on my cell phone but what are they gonna do? He hasn’t laid a finger on her yet and who knows what she owes him money for. Would she be in just as much trouble as him? Is that why he knows she won’t call? Is he pimping her out? Jesus Christ, it’s not even 9am, what the hell is going on? Besides, who knows how long it’s going to take for them to get here. I should probably do something. But the dog, what if this asshole starts kicking my dog. Then I’d have to kill him and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Who are you kidding Dan? He’d kick your ass. I bet this hot coffee would look good splashed across his face. Yea that’s great. Then he can beat the shit out of me and just get to her later. Why am I still standing here? Just a be a witness Dan, that’s something. Stop being a voyeur. Move on. Just..


And as my mind ineffectually races, a thin man in a hoodie, not much taller than the woman, starts crossing the street toward them, not running, but with purpose. He gets between them, even puts his hand on the tall man’s arm. I don’t know what he’s saying, but he’s got the man’s attention. But the woman doesn’t run. She doesn’t even move away. Maybe she expects this skinny stranger in a hoodie to fight for her? Maybe she thinks it’s hopeless? Maybe she’s frozen with a million thoughts just like me.


Then the tall man and the short woman walk away side by side. Not twenty feet down the road the tall man is screaming in this woman's face again. The skinny man is left standing there alone. He throws up his arms, defeated. He puts on his headphones and crosses back to my side of the street. I try to tell him that he’s a good man for at least trying to do something, but he doesn’t hear me over his music or he doesn’t acknowledge me anyway. He walks on. Head down. Disgusted with the real Poughkeepsie.


Leave a comment below. What should I have done? What could be done? Sad as it is, I doubt this is the last time I’ll witness something like this. It isn’t the first. And every time I’m left wondering if I could have or should have done something or anything at all. Have you been witness to this kind of madness? What did you do? Did it help?