Sleep, and two of Irina’s motion sickness pills, brought me some relief after a couple of hours of smoother rail and a soft drink to take with the pills.
Had I been of legal age, I think a shot of whiskey might have done the job sooner! (My dad later said, “On your stomach? I don’t think so, A!”)
But as the morning light grew and traffic out the window grew more and more frequent and congested along with it, my first glimpse of the New York’s skyline caused me to forget about my nausea and start thinking about navigating Penn Station with an 80 year old woman. “How are we going to make the connections? Where are we going once we get off?”
I should have never doubted Irina’s ability. Her crowd threading skills put any professional sports player to shame. She did not dart here and there, her pace was steady, and she moved with a measure pace and seem to instinctively know where to go and how to get to where we needed to be.
Suddenly she stopped, “I have to pee Alice, do you?’ The question caused my bladder to wake up.
Finding a bathroom a few steps away (“Keep your bag very, very close to you in the stall. In fact, loop the handle around your leg and keep them together”) we found relief and soon made our way to the LIRR train we would be taking.
It was an hour wait and, as if anticipating the question, “Are you hungry?” my stomach made its presence known.
“I know just the place,” she said, “I hope that it is still there and we have to back track.”
Taking the nearest elevator, she navigated us to a deli located among all the fast food places.
“Try the Reuben. It is very good.”
It was. “How did you know about this place?”
“I come to see Sasha every year.”
Why was I surprised?