I was doing some cleaning in the basement and was going through some of my boxes of stuff. Some of them are old textbooks and some of them are random keepsakes. Suddenly, this tape caught my glimpse and I started to remember the story.
About ten years ago, I was a little younger and a lot more active socially. By virtue of that, I was out for a lot of late nights. I recall one bitterly cold winter night, I left a friends house in the wee hours of the morning. I was nearly to falling asleep at the wheels and was not really paying attention to my surroundings as I headed south on 14th Street NW (in Calgary) just past the Winter Club and the Police Station. I stopped at the set of lights on top of John Laurie Boulevard. The light was about the turn green, but suddenly without warning, a native woman ran past the front of car, and before I knew it, she was in my passenger seat.
By now, I could tell that she had had a few drinks. She seemed calm enough, but still the last thing I wanted to do was to provoke a drunken stranger in my very own vehicle. So I asked if I could help her in some way. She said she needed a place to stay for the night, and she knew a friend who might be able to take her in. I felt a little annoyed because I was dead tired; but at the same time, I was a bit fearful. So I offered to give her a ride.
As we were cruising along the night streets of Calgary, she started unloading all her personal problems: broken family, abusive boyfriend, and the whole nine yards. I started to feel sorry for her -- I really did. Unfortunately (or rather fortunately), I had no similar life experience to draw on to be able to say anything intelligent to console her. So I just quietly listened and let out the occasional uh-huh.
After what seemed like a long drive, we finally arrived at her friend's house. Before I could wish her luck and say goodbye, she asked if I could hang on until she can be let in. I quietly sucked in a breathe of cold air through my teeth, and said "sure". As she staggered up the steps to knock on the door, I was tempted to just take off. However, I didn't have the heart to do so as it was a very cold night. If her friend was not home, or simply did not answer the door, she would have to walk for miles to find any shelter. So I waited and hoped the lights would turn on and the door would open. Neither happened.
She staggered back down the steps, opened the car door and let in another draft of cold air, climbed in and shut the door. "Now what?" I thought. She said she really need a place to spend the night and she did not know what to do then. She mumbled on for a bit and I was starting to get the sense that she was hoping I could make a place for her to stay in my home. Not to mention that I was living with my parents at the time, I simply would not have made it happened. I finally said, "I can give you a ride to another destination, but after that", I made up a white lie and continued, "I have to go home, or my wife would start to worry". She paused and thought for a moment. Then she asked if I could take her downtown to the Cecil Hotel. I agreed, put the car in gear, and started the final leg of this interesting journey.
During the ride, she continued on with her life stories for a bit, but then she grabbed a tape of native music out of her coat pocket. She stuck it into my stereo and then just listened to the music.
After what seemed like another long drive, we finally arrived at the Cecil Hotel and she let herself out. I finally got to wish her luck as she climbed out of the car. Needless to say, she forgot the tape and I was not alert enough at the time to have noticed. I kept the tape because it was a reminder of a somewhat funny anecdote in my otherwise-ordinary life. Moreover, it was also a reminder of this unique opportunity to catch a glimpse into a world that is unknown to me. Most importantly, it reminds me to be thankful for everything that is of me, and everyone and everything that surrounds me.
