I saw a little girl the other day who reminded me of my cat. She was with her mother outside the Forest Hills subway station in Jamaica Plain. It was a gorgeous late summer twilight and I was sitting across the walkway from them, waiting to meet my wife after work.
Like my cat, the little girl couldn’t speak English, or any language for that matter. She was busily picking up leaves and examining them, tottering around and otherwise making happy squeaking noises. Except for the picking up leaves part, she was just like Felix* my orange cat. I like to watch Felix making noises and “talking” to himself as he chases bugs or watches the birds outside the window. The little girl was with her mother and another woman. The mother was in her twenties and heavy-set. The other woman was older and scrawny looking. Both were wearing tank tops and jeans. From the look of things, neither looked to be living an easy life.
Then the little girl’s mother got pissed off. She started swearing at the girl and telling her to stop running around. When the little girl kept running around, the mother got up in a hail of obscenities, and roughly picked the girl up. Then, the mother thrust the little girl onto the park bench with such force the little girl’s head snapped back and hit the back of the bench. I could hear the “thunk” where I was sitting across the walkway. The little girl was bawling and the mother was still swearing.
I waited a moment. Then I casually grabbed my things and strolled into the subway station, looking for a police officer. A very nice MBTA station attendant called the transit police for me. The transit police arrived, one male one female. They asked me to discreetly point out the woman and child, and I did. They thanked me. I thanked them. They went to talk to the mother and I loitered around a bit, out of sight of whatever was transpiring, waiting for my wife.
If that mother had consoled the little girl I would never have gotten involved.
Later that night, I thought of the little girl.
I hoped she got a good night’s sleep, and dreamed of orange cats.
copyright 2013 Magnus Incognito
* Felix (left) has an orange colored brother, Quiet Rustle (right) who was not involved in the making of this blog post.