—Posted by Grant (August 7, 2013 at 9:05 am)
Two individuals stroll down a dusky street: one tall, one small.
The woman, slim and wearing a fashionable red dress, is the mother, Kim. The short, wide-eyed girl holding her hand is her daughter, Liza.
The two live in the heart of New York, on the edge of a bad neighborhood, an area which they normally ignore and avoid. Tonight, however, Kimâ€™s husband has gotten two front-row tickets to Evita, and since the familyâ€™s usual sitter is on vacation, Kim is dragging her ten-year-old through the grimy streets toward an acquaintanceâ€™s home, which is actually outside of the rundown district; but, for several reasons—including their car being in for repairs, this route being a short-cut, and Kimâ€™s unwillingness to pay for a cab—here they are.
While rushing through, Kim is dreaming of the delightful dancing and marvelous musical numbers that await at the Marquis Theatre, much too busy to pay any attention to the tragic poverty around her.
This explains why, when Liza tugs on her motherâ€™s sleeve to say, â€œMommy, a bad man is hurting that woman,â€ Kim reacts as she does: turning away from the unshaven fellow—who happens to be waving a blade at a teenaged girl—and continuing to walk away as if nothing were the matter, dragging Liza with. â€œWe canâ€™t leave her,â€ insists Liza, â€œWe have to help. Thatâ€™s bad.â€ (more…)