“Can you tell me where to find the information booth?”
“Huh?” Isabel turns her head to the voice.
The tall German college student is standing too close to Isabel and is speaking loudly.
It’s like two Seinfeld episodes in one: a close talker and a loud talker. Who was the close talker again? Come on, you know this. Close talker. Close talker. Judge Reinhold!
“The information counter. Can you tell me where to find it?”
Isabel stares at him.
“You do not know.” The German answers for her and moves toward a commuter smoking just outside the entrance to Grand Central.
Isabel snaps awake.
“In there,” she calls after him. “Down the steps, in the middle of the room. You’ll see a round clock on top of it.”
“Thank you,” the German replies as he pushes through the heavy doors into the terminal.
Isabel waits a beat and follows him in, scanning the huge departure board on her way down the steps.
Once onboard the train she collapses into a vacant seat by the window and closes her eyes until the conductor enters the car collecting fares. Without hesitation Isabel pays with exact change.
She sleeps the entire ride.
“Where to?”
“Three Breezes Hospital, please,” Isabel answers the cabdriver.
“Going to visit someone?”
“Yeah,” Isabel replies, embarrassed to admit her connection to the place.
“You got it,” the driver says, turning onto the road that leads to the hospital. “To the Nut Hut.”