Chapter 4

I guess I wasn't surprised to see the cute girl in the yellow dress there at the bottom of the hotel's steps as I left after lunch. I sort of figured I'd be seeing her again. I can't tell you why I'd felt that way. It's just one of those things.

As she'd spoken, she'd lifted her chin off her hands. I reached over and took one of her hands in mine, gave her a genuine smile and suggested, "Walk with me."

I didn't want to hand her food in full view of the lobby. Walking was a natural way to put some distance between us and the hotel's front steps. After a half-block I released our hands and withdrew one of the rolls, holding it out for her. I wasn't sure what would happen. I thought perhaps she might make a mad dash down a dark alley, sequester herself in a corner, then hurriedly tear the bread into consumable pieces so she could stuff her mouth full.

I guess I really didn't know what she might do, but I was quite pleased when she politely offered, "Thank you," broke off a piece and extended it toward me. I leaned into her, kissed her on the crown of her head and replied, "No thanks. I got that all for you."

After she'd eaten half the roll, she pocketed the rest, then placed her hand in mine as we continued to walk. I wasn't sure where we were walking but it felt good to at least have some contact and not be afraid of screwing up anything. At least I hoped my Guardian Angel meant it was OK to interact with her.

We'd gone a couple of blocks in silence when she changed our position. She lifted my arm over her shoulder and moved close to me as we began to walk instep with each other. When we reached a corner and stopped to wait for traffic, I looked down at her and she was looking up at me. She had what I'd call a 'Knowing Smile' on her face.

"The old gentleman said you would be nice to me and bring me some bread," She said, then asked, "Do you know him?"

"Sort of," I told her. "I've seen him a few times. I think of him as my Guardian Angel."

"Just before I saw you pass us on the street, he told me to smile at you. Didn't you see him, he was standing right in front of me on the soup line."

"Sorry," I told her, "I didn't see him but I remember seeing you smiling at me."

I thought it was strange that I hadn't seen him but I was sort of ignoring everyone until I saw her smile. It did seem special to me but I knew I had to walk on by. Or at least that's what I'd figured I had to do.

The New York City's traffic lights were real strange to me. They were so different from the ones in my time. I was used to the lights being suspended from overhead wires over the intersection or held up by tall posts with long arms on them.

But here in the 1930's, New York City traffic lights were all mounted on top of posts like old-time lampposts. They weren't more than perhaps eight feet up, plus they only had two colors; red and green.

Finally the light changed and we could walk on. "My name's Morgan," she offered.

I responded with, "Mine's Blair."

"You living in the hotel?" she asked.

"Well, I'm here for only a few days then I have to get home."

Looking down into her face as we walked, I noticed a cloud wash over her eyes. "I don't have a home," she told me and I could see the start of tears begin to form.

"What happened Morgan?

"Why don't you have a home?" I asked.

Then her tears welled up and overflowed their banks. We were I guess at about 19th street and next to a small park. I gathered her up in my arms as she cried and moved us over to sit on one of the nearby benches.

Morgan began, "Daddy lost his job over a week ago and he couldn't pay the rent. The landlord wouldn't even let us get anything from our home. He was so mean. The clothes I have on is all I've got.

"We slept in an alley the first night. It was terrible. Halfway through the night a downpour started. Lightning was everywhere. I was so scared.

"The next night it was even worse."

I held Morgan tight and felt very upset at her plight. I didn't say anything while she cried. I needed time to think. When she calmed I changed the subject a bit asking her, "You've hardly touched the bread."

I could see her tears had stained her cheeks and the look in her eyes brought the same to the edges of my eyes. "I want to save it for mommie and daddy."

"It's OK to eat it," I told her and brought out the other one I still had stashed in my pocket and handed it to her. "There's plenty more where this came from."

With that, she pocketed the second roll and pulled a fair sized piece and began to chew it. Then, with a swallow clearing her mouth, she tore another piece off and offered it to me like she had before. "Would you like some?" she asked.