I remember the day so vividly. The clouds shielding the sun’s rays, the wind whipping my skin, cold to the touch, and the rain pouring heavily, my clothes absorbing the droplets like a sponge, I started walking slowly towards the High Line from the subway station, not equipped with a much needed umbrella. I was in search of an answer. I wanted to take my usual stroll on the Coney Island boardwalk, but the artificial fun nature created by the amusement parks and colorful trash cans would only distract me in my quest. The streets were empty and the buildings appeared gloomy, with the only place with a positive atmosphere being the Starbucks that was directly to the right of me, which was packed with diverse groups of people, many of whom were hanging out with their friends or family members. I wished I could be like one of them, being surrounded by loved ones and sharing the laughter and happiness together. However, my world was turned upside down.

I lost everything that I had known and loved. My friends left me one by one, submitting to death and its subordinates, comprised of diseases and cancers. My family members were always so busy, with my parents working nonstop and my older siblings always hanging out with their friends and preoccupied with their schoolwork. I was looking for a rebirth, an understanding of the agonizing pain that I’ve kept jarred up inside of me for all these years, and learning how to confront it, the High Line seemed like an ideal location due to the natural elements it exhibited. Its elevated state would isolate me from the urban setting, allowing me to think clearly without any interruptions. After crossing many streets, I finally reached the entrance of the stairs that would lead me to the site of my possible rebirth. My clothes were completely drenched at this point and my countenance had an obvious look of depression plastered on it. Without much hesitation, I walked up the stairs, one step at a time, not looking back.

Upon reaching the surface of the High Line, the rain subsided and I noticed the rail tracks incorporated into the stone plank flooring. The stainless steel rails and glass gave it a “clean and shaved” appearance. There were many planting areas scattered around, containing embedded rail tracks and soaked plants with leaves that drooped downwards, with the water droplets dropping in a periodical manner. The benches, made up of a combination of protruding stone planks, metal, and wood, waited for someone to sit on them to give them meaning for their existences, but there were only approximately ten people walking around, primarily using the High Line as a short-cut to get to their destinations a lot faster. I began walking down the narrow path, looking down and noticing how the stone planks served as an irrigation system, permitting runoff water from the rain to travel to planting areas, quenching the plants’ thirsts.

After walking through a tunnel enclosed by a brick building, I continued to pass more planting areas and passed a gathering area with rows of wooden benches descending downwards, culminating with three affixed sheets of glass that allowed people to look down on the traffic flow below. I kept my concentration on the promenade, preventing my eyes from moving in the direction of the tall buildings surrounding the High Line. Suddenly, my eyes were mesmerized by a drinking fountain with a heart inscribed on its push button, which caused me to feel even more tribulation because of what the heart symbolized. I walked towards the fountain, pushed the button, and lowered my head to drink some water. A computer generated voice was emitted from it, but its cold sound and the concerned message it was trying to convey confused me. Why was it using a cold sounding voice to convey a warm message? Perplexed, I took my last mouthful of water before moving on.

As I proceeded on, I stopped momentarily to examine a sculpture called the “Still Life with Landscape,” which was divided by the pathway. It resembled an open gateway produced from thin steel rods, but when I saw that it had bird feeding areas and showers, I was able to understand that it was more than just an art piece. It served a crucial role for the little sparrows residing in the various plants of the High Line. When I noticed a lone sparrow looking around, probably for its “friends” and “family members,” another sparrow flew down from above and perched itself near the lone sparrow. Coincidentally, the two both flew to same feeding area with small black seeds, and together, they feasted on them. The way the sparrow joined the lone sparrow made me realize that although my friends may not physically be with me, they each live in a small place inside of my heart. Although I am not a religious person, somehow, I have gained this notion that my friends are looking over me from above. A cathartic and therapeutic experience, I found the answer I was looking for and felt as if I was reborn, more confident than ever before. The clouds dissipated and the sun shined down upon me, signifying the completion of my rebirth.

Coney Island

Take a stroll on the boardwalk,

With the wind blowing through your hair,

Or ride the Wonder Wheel,

If you have some time to spare.

Nathan’s is the place to go

If you want a bite to eat,

The best hot dogs in New York

Will knock you off your feet.

Take a ride on the Cyclone,

If you have some nerve

 But try and hold on really tight,

Cause it’s filled with drops and swerves.

Go to see a Cyclone game,

If you like baseball,

See the Beach Bums do their dance,

And meet Sandy the seagull.

Take a swim in the ocean,

Or lay out on the beach,

Feel the sand between your toes

And have an ice cream each.

If you want to see some fish,

The aquarium’s the place to go,

Visit the walruses and the sharks

Or see the Sea Lion Show.

Come to Coney Island

Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall,

Any day or time,

You know they’ve got it all.

A garden.

Weeds,

Dry,                                                                  

Neglected,

Entirely

lacking

its

needs.

A choice.

What to do,

Rebuild?

Destroy?

It’s completely

up

to

you.

A group.

Strengths,

Determination,

Perseverance,

Working to

reach

great

lengths.

A plan.

Rake,

Hoe,

Water,

With time,

it

will

reawake.

A garden.

Green,

Plants,

Full,

Amongst

the greatest

ever

seen.

The garden represents the High Line. The group represents the Friends of the High Line who fought for it to be preserved. Today, after a lot of hard work and devotion, the High Line is truly a beautiful “garden.”

The startled old man turned back and looked at the cowering woman draped in rags. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Emily deceivingly assured him. “Oh, don’t worry dear, it’s a crowded place. You can’t avoid everyone!” he replied. Emily flashed a smile and walked on, gazing around at the buildings shielding her from the scorching midday sun as she made her way along the High Line Park. It seemed like it was only yesterday that she was a little girl, sitting in her old rundown one bedroom apartment on the west side, trying to drown out the noise of the freight cars moving along the railway throughout factories and warehouses. She dreaded that sound, and dreamed of nothing but one day moving as far away from that noise and the city. Ironically, the one thing she dreamed of getting away from was now her only means of survival.

She looked through the wallet of the old man that she pickpocketed, and finding nothing but a few bills she threw it in the nearest garbage can. Theft was the one thing she had to resort to after the death of her family, and since she had no one to go to, no documents to prove her identity, she spend most of her nights in the streets of Manhattan.

Going past a few strangers, she looked upon her childhood apartment, which stood adjacent to the rail line, and wondered who lived there now. Emily thought about how happy the occupants must be that the railway next to them is free of the noisy freight trains and how disappointed they must be that privacy was not a virtue.

Walking on towards 23rd street, she was soon surrounded by buildings again. Emily despised this part of the park. The monstrous behemoths overshadowed her, looked down upon her feeble soul as if to say that she was below everyone else, that who she was, what she was doing, was no secret to anyone and no matter how much she tried to change it, she was always going to be inferior to everyone around her. The area made her feel scared and guilty about her actions. She constantly imagined everyone looking through their windows, staring at her with contempt and pity. She felt like jumping off the rail line, into an alley where everyone would forget her and she would cease to exist. At least then, she thought, the depression, fear and desperation would end.  She began thinking about her parents and her brothers, her life before a fire took their lives. She used to hate this railway, but now she would do anything to get it back. Her desire to go back to the life with her parents, to the sleepless nights trying to drown out the noise outside, was overwhelming. At least back then she had a life, Emily thought to herself.

It was a cool and breezy night on Coney Island; large clouds loomed in the sky permitting the almost full moon to shine through only on occasion.  Most of the people were exiting the boardwalk to head home, but a small crowd was gathering around the rails next to the beach, anticipating the upcoming fireworks show.

“I can’t believe it’s almost the end of summer.” said Joshua.

“Yeah,” responded Farina, “there was so much other stuff I wanted to do before school.”

“Hey, I’m the wistful, melancholy one, okay? You’re generally more plucky, so what’s up?”

“I just feel like we didn’t do enough, I mean, we don’t have many summer vacations left, you know?” Farina looked across the beach speaking again, “I don’t what’s gotten into me.”

“Kevin, perhaps?” Joshua suggested with a grin.

“Shut up, we’re just friends!”

“Namaste, amigos!”

Joshua and Farina turned toward where they heard the voice, recognizing their friend Caesar approaching.  He was born to a mixed family so he had a distinct appearance and was easily confused for Hispanic, South Asian, and various types of Mediterranean.  His family moved around a lot when he was a child, too, so he always had trouble answering people when they inevitably asked him what he was or where he was from.  Eventually, he realized he had more fun just making up stories drawing from his background and experience; so, he started pretending to be different ethnicities every couple of days or weeks, which was always entertaining to the people who knew him well.

“So, Indian-Mexican today, huh?” Joshua asked.

“Indian-Ecuadorian, actually.” responded Caesar cheerfully.

“Of course.” said Joshua as he chuckled and turned back to beach.  Shouldn’t the fireworks have started by now?”.

“I heard there was an accident somewhere on the beach, so they got delayed.” said the man standing next to Farina.

“Some drunk crashed his boat on the shore.” continued an elderly woman sitting on the bench.

Farina stretched and groaned, “If the show ends up being cancelled then he’ll have totally messed up our last night out.”

“That’s pretty mean Fay-Fay,” said Caesar. “Aren’t you worried about the guy or if anyone got hurt?”.

“Of course I am.” she responded earnestly.

“Honesty, I expected you to say that Joshua.” said Caesar while pretending to ignore her.

“She’s been stealing my thunder all night.” sighed Joshua.

“Stop picking on me.” Farina said while pouting, making all three of them laugh.

Joshua reached into his pocket to take out his phone and check the time, but accidently pulled his keychain out with it.  It fell to ground and Farina bent down to pick it up, noticing one key in particular.

“Hey Joshy, what’s this?”

“Oh, it’s a handcuff key.”

“A handcuff key?”

“Yes, a handcuff key.”

Farina paused and let out a sigh.  “Should I even ask why you have this?”.

“You should,” responded Joshua, as he leaned on the railing, arms crossed over his chest, “it’s a good story.”

A silence passed over the trio.  Farina stared expectantly at Joshua, while he didn’t take his eyes off the Parachute Jump in the distance. Caesar looked back and forth between the two of them, not entirely sure of what was happening.

“Well?” asked Farina impatiently.

“Well, what?” answered Joshua calmly.

“Why aren’t you telling the story?”

“You didn’t ask yet.”

Caesar laughed and Farina put her face in her palm, “Just tell us the story.”

Joshua shifted his weight, put his hands in his pockets, took a breath, and started. “It was a few years ago, in middle school.  There was this one small store on the corner near the school that my friends and I went to.  The owners were jerks and we were stupid, so we would occasionally steal things – snacks, cans of beer, a few lighters.  We were browsing the shelves one day when one of the workers picked a friend of mine up and threw him behind the counter before calling the police.  The rest of us looked at him, and then at each other, and ran; to the school, to the park, to our homes, anywhere away from the store and without a second thought.  We met up in the schoolyard later and saw the friend that was caught.  After crying and paying for the stuff he had on him the police and store let him go, but we were all banned from entering the store again.  He told us that he really wasn’t trying to steal that time, that he just walked by the door on his way to the cashier.  I still don’t know if he was telling the truth or not.”

“But, where does the key come in?” Caesar asked.

“I bought it a few days later and showed it off as something to use just in case we got caught again.  I actually don’t know if it works, and even if it did, it wouldn’t do much good while it’s on my chain like it is.  I keep it as a reminder of how weak I was then.  That I didn’t do anything to help my friend, that I didn’t own up to what I did, that I even involved myself in the first place.”

The fireworks finally began, and Joshua turned to look at them.  Caesar and Farina looked at one another, unsure of what to do or say.  Joshua looked over his shoulder, smiled, and said, “The fireworks look great, don’t they?”.

“You don’t talk a lot, but when you do it’s some pretty heavy stuff.” said Caesar as he and Farina moved up to the railing.

“You ought to talk more often.” chimed in Farina.

“I’d run out of things to say.” Joshua replied with a shrug.  “We’ve got a few more days off, you guys want to go wander around the city or something tomorrow?” Turning to Farina, he continued, “We could invite Kevin.”

“Who’s Kevin?” Caesar asked while laughing.

“No one! Shut up Joshy!” Farina yelled over the fireworks before joining the other two in laughter.

It’s the combination of the jungle that we pave over

And the swamp jungle where our ancestors became soldiers

Struggling to establish a civilization

But when we built it we took away from nature

Like the quilt of the Earth, we tore it

We lost it and became a stranger

But it’s stranger still that we will

Rebuild what’s gone when we can no longer

Stand the sight of giant steel monsters

Bearing their teeth so we took a creation and fostered

A relationship of the past with the present

It was fast when we sent it

And this park built joins those worlds with a vengeance

An old path is where it was created

Underground scheming and calculating, like math, not to have it slated

Debated, whether or not to connect with what we lost

But we never had it, no message inscribed that was faded

And this park is raised like the hopes we have in a vision

To give beauty to this city, and the gray streets that are now hated

With great precision, landscaped with the rail line, as a collision

The two worlds can combine, but what we had hoped for really isn’t

It’s a joke cuz we have failed in our mission

Pretty, from the gritty and gives us peace and serenity

But it’s not natural, not crafted by divinity

Nonetheless, between man and God there was synergy

An energy, something we can grasp and work off of

To revive from the last, one last gasp, at what we all lost