It was one of those decisions
that was made for me
An elderly Chinese woman
waved my car down
in the middle of an intersection

Her husband stood on the corner
next to a large instrument case
She pushed a homemade map
at me and said skoola, skoola
I then realized my neighborhood
is a foreign country for her

With no one to translate
I pulled over and opened
my car in an attempt to
take the instrument to school
but they jumped in along with it

Their fear filled the car
terror in their faces in their
voices as they repeated
skoola, skoola we wound
through what was a familiar
half mile for me but seemed
a dark labyrinth to them

As the school came into view
smiles formed on their faces
that grew into laughter
I stopped they flew out
nodding smiling joyful
all expressions replaced
the words for thank-you

I left not knowing how to ask
if I could wait to take them back