in case I'm murdered... (lyn)

I run in ad in Craig’s List, advertising my tutoring services.  I get an email from a guy (let’s call him Samson) who is interested.  We exchange a few emails that lead to a few phone calls. He is interested in having me tutor his younger sister, Yolanda (this is also an alias) who lives in New Jersey, but who is temporarily living with him in Manhattan since all schools in New Jersey are still closed.  Her college essay is due in three days.  Can I help?

I ask that Yolanda send me her essay so I can review it.  She does.  It is a typical teen story and doesn’t begin to capture the richness of her Hispanic heritage.  I think we should re-do it from scratch.

I tell Samson.  He genuinely wants to help his sister and agrees. I speak to Yolanda and she is open to my suggestions.  We arrange to meet. 

I hang up and wonder if I’ve made a disastrous mistake.  I think of the Craig’s List Killer —   that nice, normal blond med student from Boston who killed the person he met through Craig’s List.  I get nervous.

But then I think, really, if someone wanted to murder me, there are much better ruses than to pose as someone needing help with the Common App!  And would they really go to the extreme of drafting a 500-word essay and sending it to me?  It’s hard to imagine a killer of this sort.

But just to be safe, I send M an email with the subject line, “In Case I’m Murdered.”  In it, I include the contact info I have for Samson and Yolanda.

Today Yolanda and her brother come.  My instincts are right.  They are both warm, kind and normal.  I am sure they are not hiding a machete.  Samson stays just a few minutes, making sure his sister is safe and comfortable.  He probably wanted to meet me fearing the same of me that I did of him.

Yolanda and I are working on the application when my phone rings.  It’s M, and she’s on speaker.  Before I say a word she says, “Hi, just wanted to make sure you haven’t been raped, murdered or tortured.” I am embarrassed thinking I ever had this thought.

Yolanda stays a couple of hours. As she is leaving she asks, “Can I give you a hug?”  I almost cry.  

I speak to Samson later.  Tomorrow Yolanda and I will meet again.  He says, “We are blessed we found you.”  He has it wrong; I’m the one who’s blessed.