Mr. Bombompsky didn’t just know of people, but made contact with them. Two falls ago, Mr. Bombompsky had heard that Robert Goldman was in New York. Somehow, he found out that Mr. Goldman was going to Central Park on the first Saturday of his stay. Mr. Bombompsky had wanted to meet him, so he made his way from Brooklyn to the city.
“Excuse me, but I think I recognize you,” Mr. Bombompsky had planned to say, in a casual tone to get the conversation started. But it had gone the oppisite way of planned.
Mr. Bombompsky did recognize Mr. Goldman: he was sitting on the bench near the Broadway entrance. Before he could say anything, Mr. Goldman exclaimed, “I think I recognize you. Are you, ah, I can’t remember!”
Mr. Bombompsky was taken aback, but then knew what Mr. Goldman was going to say. He would of suggested the idea for him, but wanted Mr. Goldman to say it in his own words.
“Oh, yes! You are, you are Bombompksy, Mr. Bombompsky, the famous writer! Voila! Oh, I have heard so much about you and read all of your books, even the ones for children. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He shook Mr. Bombompsky’s hand hard.
Mr. Bombompsky smiled, very full with satisfaction but trying not to show it too much. He wondered why Mr. Goldman, who didn’t have a French name or last name at all, had a French accent.
“Thank you. And you are Robert Goldman, no? It is a pleasure. Why are you in New York? And where did you come from?” Mr. Bombombpsky had inquired.
“I come from Marseille,” he said while smiling, and the corners of his white mustache lifted up. “I just wanted to explore “the City”, as they call it, no?”
The conversation was taken to the Pie Café, where each of the authors got an ecpresso. As he thought back to that conversation, Mr. Bombompsky realized he was in no mood to travel, and wished he could hear the conference through his Apple Macbook air, recorded, but knew he couldn’t let down his old friend. Mr. Bombompsky slowly finished packing the bag, until it would close without anything sticking out.
He went to the bathroom. By accident, he turned on the freezing cold water and shrieked. Then he laughed, and soon the cool water began to soothe his body, began to freshen it, began to give it more strength, make him feel lighter, free, like a bird, soaring through the rain, and music began to play in his head, like it was a movie. The rain poured and poured and poured on him, coming out of the hose strongly but making gentle drops of water run down his back.