-- I am Martha. I have lived in New York City for twenty-three years. I lost my parents through a grisly accident at the age of nine. My mom and dad were driving along the Joe DiMaggio Highway while on their way home in Manhattan from a weekend fellowship when the accident happened. It was a horrible time in my life, to be honest. Even the memories of my Dad, who was a highly religious person, did not help me. My father often played the role of the community motivator and volunteer who helped the poor and the orphans. My family was to me an example of high standards of morality. When I was a little kid, my parents gave me as much attention as I needed. They were always there offering words of support to me when I got scraped from playing outside or high praises when I came home with good marks. All of those Manhattan memories make me think that maybe my life would become better if I left the city. When there was conflict in my neighborhood, everyone would turn to my family for support as they believed us to be beacons of morality. My Dad taught me to appreciate God. He would tell me that God is in the beauty of everything and we should thank Him for His blessings daily. My mom would always encourage me to do my best in many of the things I tried. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, I always had my mom in my corner rooting me on. When my parents left this world, I was stuck alone in Manhattan. The only thing which would distract me from painful thoughts was painting. Every time I would take a brush in my hands, my mind would transcend into another world. Painting makes me calm and happy. Even though life has taught me to grow up fast, while drawing I still feel like a child with my parents around. “Very nice, God sure has blessed you with a talent,” I would hear my father say. Sometimes when I concentrated hard enough, I could still smell the faint hint of perfume my mom would wear as she was standing next to me. “Keep it up and you’ll have every art college begging to have you.” Each day when I look in the mirror, I am reminded of them. I have the same hazel eyes that my mom had, the one dimple on my left cheek that came from my father, and the sharp jawline that was a gift from both of them. The only difference was that my hair was black while theirs was blonde, mine came out as strawberry blonde with pale skin. “I know they’re looking down on me”, I say to my reflection, “and I want to show them that I’ll continue this gift of life by continuing my paintings. Also, I don’t plan on living this life alone. I know that there is someone out there for me who can fill this void in my heart, and I plan to find him. So, just keep watch over me until then, okay mom and dad?” Painting makes me believe that one day I will meet this person who will have as high moral standards as I did in my family. I really want to get the feeling of my family back into my life. It is all that I am asking for. I believe that one day I would be able to create my own family with someone very special and unique. This person will definitely inspire me for new drawings and add more colors to a sometimes gray Manhattan life, if not to consider a green oasis of Central Park.
Scene 2
-- My name is Joshua. Joshua Dean. You probably have never heard about me, so let me introduce myself. I am twenty-five years old. Single, by the way but not by appearance or personality but by choice. I would say that I’m a pretty good catch: 5’9, sandy brown hair, tanned skin, and olive eyes. My job helps me to meet many people every day and get to know new things because I am a taxi driver at Transport Company in New York City. People may be very skeptical of me when they hear about my job. However, they have no idea how interesting it makes my life. Every Tuesday, I would get a call from the old lady on 2nd street to take her to Langston Avenue. “Every time I call I get you. Aren’t there other drivers on this route?” Isn’t she a doll? On Thursday evenings, the calls for businessmen would come in and I would have the pleasure of listening to their latest soirees. “Isn’t that new secretary the hottest?” “She gives my wife a run for her money. The next time I go out of town, I’ll probably.” The weekend nights are when I get the female, and occasionally the male, clients who’ll try to proposition me for a good tip or better tip. Ha! Despite the constant flow of interesting characters from my cab, I feel like there is still something missing from it. Nevertheless, I am trying to live the American dream. However, so far I just live in Brooklyn. My mom says that I am a dreamer. She’s right in a way since I also have a dream to meet my father, but she won’t tell me who he is. “Why do you need to meet him for,” she would spit back whenever I asked her. “He didn’t do anything for us back then, why would you expect now to be different?” Sometimes, it is hard for me to think that he just left me and my mother which makes me doubt that true love still exists in this world. Regardless, I do believe in love. You have heard it right. I think there is nothing wrong with that. In our twenty-first-century cynical world, love is the only instance that seems to be real at least sometimes. At least, they say that it exists. Even though, I have never happened to experience this soul warming feeling of affection to another human. However, I still hope that it will happen soon. Sooner than I expect. Also, I have to admit that I am a hopeless romantic. Every weekend I go to Brooklyn Bridge hoping that one day I will meet HER there. No need to laugh. Many people don’t believe in love and I will prove that it exists. That is why I will coming to Brooklyn Bridge to meet my one and only. She will be the one that I would take care of and love till the rest of my life. I have imagined this moment so many times and I think it will happen soon. I think my love is already near. At least, she is in this city among these 15 million people. “Do you hear that,” I say into the wind every time I stand on the bridge, “I’m out here waiting for you. I know you exist within this city. I can feel it in my heart. One day, this heart of mine will finally lead us to the spot where we’ll meet. And then I can finally prove to this world, and to myself, that true love actually exists. This game of cat and mouse has long been drawn out.”
