Lincoln Square

Lincoln Square

           The train lurched to a stop and the doors opened. I grabbed my bag, stood up, and hesitantly made my way to the door. I had no way of knowing if I was in the right place until I found the house, which was at least a few blocks from the train station. Sighing, I stepped off the train. People quickly left the platform, disappearing down the two stairwells. Within seconds, I was the only one left on the platform. It stretched above a busy street, lined with small storefronts, cafés and the occasional smaller house, tucked away between the towering buildings.   

           I made my way over to the smaller of the two stairwells and went down. I pushed past an iron revolving gate and found myself on the street. Cars flew past the crowded sidewalks, adding to the already noisy street. I glanced down at the map Mom had given me. I had to go west on Leland. Looking around, I quickly spotted a sign with LELAND printed in bold text. It was only a few feet away.   

           Turning onto Leland, the noise died down almost instantly. This street was much smaller, with various houses lining both sides for as far as I could see. Large trees grew over the street, creating a tunnel of leaves. The houses themselves seemed mostly very old, though not run-down. A few newer homes were scattered around, all very large and remarkably similar to one another.

           “It’s so strange. Why would someone build the same house three times on one block?” I thought to myself.

           I kept walking, turning onto more narrow, quiet streets. I was grateful I was walking when I noticed how many of these streets were one way. I would never be able to find my way by car.

           Before long, I reached another busy street. This one was different, though. They were very few cars, and the street itself was very narrow. It was surrounded by huge sidewalks, filled with people walking around between the shops and restaurants the lined the street. At one end, there was a parking lot with what seemed to be an outdoor market inside. In the center of it all was a large square. I could hear music coming from the center of the square, but was having a hard time seeing what it was over the crowd. I pushed past a clown making balloon animals, past several carts selling pretzels and sausages, before finally making it to the center of the square. There was a band playing on a small stone stage. I stood there for awhile listening before I remember I had somewhere to be. I pushed my way back through the crowd, pulling out my map once more. I walked back down the street to a small street called Giddings. I kept trying to follow the map, but it seemed like I was just going in circles. Everything looked so similar. I was staring at my map for what seemed like the hundredth time when I bumped into someone.

           “Sorry.” I muttered without looking up.

           “Are you lost?” The person asked.

           “Yeah. Kinda. I’m trying to get to 2124 W. Sunnyside. Do you know where that is?”

           The person, a woman in her mid-thirties, took the map in her hands and studied it for a moment.

           “We are right here.” She said, pointing to a place on the map. “I believe you are trying to get here. If you keep walking for another block, then take a left, you should find it.”

           “Thanks!” I said, putting the map away as I started to walk down the block.

           “No problem.”

           Within minutes I was standing in front of the familiar yellow house I had seen in the photographs. I didn’t even have to knock. She was already on the porch.

           “Grandma!”