Tewahedo Woman by Mike Bozart - HTML preview

It was a splendid 54º (Fahrenheit; 12º Celsius) mid-October, Sunday morning, leisurely bike ride in east Charlotte. After making a right turn onto Wilora Lake Road (from southbound North Sharon Amity Road) on my single-speed, steel-frame Thruster, I heard a woman screaming. What now? Is this a setup for a robbery? Better stay wary.

“Can you please help me, sir?” the slight, elderly, gray-skinned woman in an ornate, full-length, red dress with a burnt orange shawl and a white, head-wrapped, linen scarf shouted. She was standing beside a 15-year-old maroon sedan that was parked on the curb, 100 feet (30.5 meters) away. Oh my, what has happened to her? Is she injured? Is this some kind of health emergency? Or, is there a burly guy lying in wait, ready to jump out of the back seat with a machete?

I rode up to her, peered into the car, dismounted my bike, and pushed down the kickstand. I quickly noticed that she was very distressed and very much alone. However, she seemed to have no health issues. She immediately trusted me enough to push her cell phone towards me, imploring me to look at it. Ah, a Samsung Galaxy Note 7. Hope it doesn’t explode in my hand.

“I no speak English,” [sic] she said. “I’m lost. The map is walking.” [sic] The map is walking? Must remember that one – a gold-medal winner.

“Your English is fine,” I said, trying to calm and reassure her. “I understand you. Where do you want to go?”

“Church. I Ethiopian Orthodox Christian.” [sic] She was frightened and thoroughly flustered. “Please help me.” 

“I will. Don’t worry; it’s going to be ok.” I then looked at the screen of her thin silver phone in my left hand. Ah, there’s her church: Ankise Miheret Batalemariam Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church. What a mouthful. “So, that’s where you need to go?” I asked very slowly and deliberately, while pointing at the little icon.

“Yes, but the map is walking.” [sic] She said it again. What does she mean? Oh, wait; I see what she’s trying to say: Her Google map is set for walking and not for driving. That’s why it has the route in dots. Even though her church is nearly within eyesight, she can’t get there as easily by car. She’s going to have to make a U-turn on [North] Sharon Amity. [Road] This may be a challenge communicating this to her. Oh, why not just set the map mode to automobile? Wake up! Don’t make this into a Cecil B. DeMille production.

“I’ll change the map for car,” I placidly and slowly stated.

“Yes! Please do that!” She was very excited about me fixing this issue. Does she really not know how to change modes of travel on Google Maps?

I then tapped on her phone. But, nothing happened. I tapped the glass screen again. Nothing. None of the touch options were working. It’s frozen. Actually, it feels a little hot. “Listen, we better turn your phone off. It has locked up and is getting hot. I can show you how to get there.”

The poor lady looked very confused, and said nothing. Ok, none of that registered. Let’s just use hand signals.

“Ok, just follow me on my bike,” I said while pointing to my black bicycle.

She nodded. Ok, good; she understands … I think.

I walked back to my bike and she got in her old car. I started to pedal back towards North Sharon Amity Road. She then made a three-point turn and caught up to me at the STOP sign. There I used my left hand to let her know to turn right. I then raced down the level sidewalk at about 20 MPH (32 km/h). She followed beside me with her hazard flashers on.

Even though it was only 7:58 AM on a Sunday morning, there was still some traffic on the four-lane road that connected east and south Charlotte. Soon, horns were beeping. This freaked her out. She then sped ahead of me to the traffic light at Central Avenue before I could signal her to get in the left turn lane for a U-turn. Oh, great! She’s going way off course now.

I was able to catch up to her as she made a right turn onto Central Avenue. I waved her into a restaurant parking lot (El Rey Del Pollo). There I used both hands to communicate an upcoming U-turn and a left turn to her. She nodded as if she understood, but I had my doubts as she drove off. She may end up in midtown.

Her U-turn was about 1,000 feet (305 meters) away at Rosehaven Drive. So, I just waited to see if she would come back past me in a few minutes. I saw her car move into the left lane in the distance. Maybe she will navigate this correctly after all.

Two minutes later, her maroon sedan was slowly passing me on the other side of Central Avenue. She moved into the outer left-turn lane. She caught my gaze and gave me a thumbs-up. I reciprocated. Good deal. She did the U-turn and is in the correct lane to go to her church. Mission accomplished. Well, maybe.

She made the left turn onto northbound North Sharon Amity Road, and disappeared from view as I pedaled up to the intersection. When I got a white crosswalk signal, I walked my bike to the QuikTrip convenience store, hoping to get some free air in my rear tire (feeling a little soft). However, when I arrived at the air compressor, I immediately noticed that the hose was gone. Darn! Just my rotten luck. Some moron ripped the hose off. Idiot! 

I got an amaretto-flavored coffee and gulped it down outside. Then I continued my bike journey across the old Eastland Mall (demolished in 2013-14) parking lot, thinking about the merry mischief that my friends and I partook in back in late ‘70s. Getting ripped and swinging from a flagpole’s ropes on a November night after the mall had closed. Sailing over that twenty-five-foot [7.6 meters] drop-off. Amazing that none of us got hurt. Wow, that was almost four decades ago. I’m ancient history.

In the southeast corner of the crumbling asphalt parking lot, Latino vendors were already setting up their counters and canopies for an open-air market. Trucks and vans were unloading wares. However, I didn’t see any LFC (Liverpool Football Club) shirts or flags, so I kept riding.

I exited to Wilora Lake Road behind where a Hannaford’s grocery store had once stood (razed). I continued around the back of the mall property, eventually crossing between dead-ends of the segmented street. When I arrived back at North Sharon Amity Road, I decided to go left down the sidewalk to see if the old lady’s maroon sedan was in the church’s parking lot. I wonder if she made it. What was that church’s address? 39-something. An even number. 3924? No. 3918? No. 3912? Yeah, that’s it! It’s right here.

I stopped pedaling and looked at the cars parked in the large dirt lot in front of what looked to be an old house that had been converted into a church. No one was outside. The church service must have already started. Hmmmm … I don’t see her car.

I rolled up another twenty feet to get a different sight line. And, there was her car. She had made it to her church safely. Excellent.

Then I turned my bike around and prepared to go back home (about two miles – 3.2 km – away). I looked at my bike’s odometer (20278) as I started to pedal away. When I glanced back at the church, I saw an Ethiopian man at the door giving me a thumbs-up. Ah, excellent.