This is another story that I read on October 14th, at the Tompkins County Public Library.
Sippy, you see that woman? Look over there by the fountain. No, not the tree; move your eyes to the left. To the left. You see that woman? That’s a woman, Sippy, a woman in a fur coat. No, that’s not a bear. In this park, they don’t have bears. Maybe it looks like a bear to you, but it isn’t, it’s a woman. You see who I’m talking about? That woman. I used to know her.
Years ago. She was my neighbor. Her name is Mrs. Nash. Nash. No, not Nosh. Who would be named Nosh, that's not even a name. Are you listening to me, Sippy? That woman over there, she’s blind.
Blind, not blond. No, she’s not blond, she’s blind. That woman. The one over there on the bench, by the fountain. Yes, the one you thought was a bear. That’s Mrs. Nash. She’s blind.
I know what I’m talking, trust me. When you’re neighbors with someone you notice these things. She lived right in my building when we were on Vyse Avenue. She was on the second floor, like me. She had windows, they faced the front. The woman is blind, Sippy, she can’t see a thing but she had windows on the street. I’ve got two good eyes, they gave me windows to the back.
You hear me? All day long I looked out on other people’s laundry, I smelled their stinking garbage. But she had rooms with a view. It used to gall me something terrible. I told my Solly, I said to him, “Where is the justice?”
But it wasn't her fault, I didn’t hold it against her. It was the rental agent, that crook Rubikoff. Ira Rubikoff. Roo-bi-koff, the rental agent. Doesn’t ring a bell with you? No matter, he’s dead. Don’t be sorry, you didn't kill him. No, not Solly. Solly's not dead. Solly's my husband. I'm talking about that rat, Rubikoff. Pay attention, Sippy. Well make more of an effort.
So, that woman, Mrs. Nash, the blind woman, I’m telling you, she could do anything you or I could do. Honest to God. She shopped for herself, she cooked for herself, she baked even. Yes, in the oven. When I passed her door I could smell she was baking. Sewing, too, she made her own clothes. The whole works, not just hems, the entire outfit she would make. With darts for her bosoms. She had large bosoms. It's not a criticism and it's not a compliment, it's just a fact.
And I’ll tell you something else. She did her own laundry down in the basement, in that old machine there. Yes, she did, why would I lie to you? And she hung it up in the backyard, with clothespins. I saw her do it. From my windows I could see her, with the undergarments, the good linens. She had nice quality things, that Mrs. Nash.
I’m telling you, Sippy, there’s not a thing she couldn’t do. Except drive a car. I know, of course, who wants to drive? But with her, it’s not a matter of want. Let’s say, just for argument’s sake, let’s say she wanted to drive. Who knows why? It doesn’t matter why, let’s just say she wanted to. If she wanted to, still, she could not do it.
If I wanted to drive, if you wanted to drive, whatever the reason, we could do it if we wanted to. But her, Mrs. Nash, if she wanted to, still she couldn’t do it.
Because she’s blind, that’s why. You forgot she was blind? That’s the whole point. The point is, the woman is blind. She can do everything the same as you and me. But she cannot drive a car.
No, that is the point. It’s my story, Sippy, I know, she was my neighbor. You don’t even know her so how could you know the point? The point is: no matter she had her windows on the front, no matter she could sew, she could bake, no matter she was born over here in this country, her husband, he had a good job, a nice head of hair, all of that makes no matter. What I’m telling you is, even if she wanted to, she could not drive. It’s just not possible.
Okay, Sippy, you see your point and I’ll see mine. Let’s just leave it at that. No, I’m not angry with you. I am not angry, trust me. Here, Sippy, eat an apple, be happy.
It's an apple. Put out your hand and take it. No, it won’t give you gas. I want you should eat it. I’m telling you one more time. Eat the apple, Sippy.
