At the top of the stairs he zipped up, covered up, and took his usual route home—two blocks north, four blocks east, past the Samuel Gompers housing projects. As he approached Jacob Riis Park a man drew his attention. He was standing beneath the only light in the park, backlit by its halo, nothing more than a silhouette of overcoat and fedora. He seemed oddly out of place, sinister in his stillness. David pulled his stocking cap lower, his wool scarf higher and picked up the pace.
The man called out. “Dr. McBride, may I speak to you please?”
David stopped, turned toward him. “You talking to me?”
“Yes, Doctor. A moment of your time, if I may?”
David peered between the steel bars that served as a fence. “Do I know you?”
“No. My name is White, Mr. White. I’ve come to offer you a job.”
“Here? In single-digit temperatures? Unconventional, isn’t it?”
“My offer is unconventional.”
“Sorry, but I’m currently employed.” David started to go.
“Yes, but this could be quite lucrative for someone in your position.”
David turned around. “And what position is that?”
“A physician living in this neighborhood speaks for itself, does it not?”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish