From Riverside Park, I can’t see New Jersey across the Hudson River because the trees are full of thick green leaves. The scent of acacia flowers fills the air. It makes me feel emotional and miss my friends deeply. Many of my friends live across the river. I haven’t seen them since February, when we met at our book club. That’s why I often look toward New Jersey. I wonder, will we meet again when winter comes and the trees lose their leaves? When New Jersey is clearly visible again? These days, I worry about going outside. I think of people around me as virus carriers. Maybe we won’t meet until everyone gets the vaccine.
My book club friends are different from ordinary women. Maybe because they read a lot of books, they are calm, wise, and witty. They don’t waste time. They keep improving themselves every day. Not long ago, one of the friends sent me a story. It was written in English. I translated it and changed it a little. The story is about a clever woman reading a book on a boat. I really liked it.
The Woman with the Book
One morning, a man returns to the cabin after fishing for a few hours. He takes a nap. His wife, who doesn’t know the lake very well, decides to go out on the boat because the weather is nice. She drops the anchor and starts reading a book.
A game warden (a kind of lake police) comes by in another boat and asks:
“Good morning, ma’am. What are you doing?”
“I’m reading a book,” she answers.
“You are in a no-fishing zone,” he says.
“But I’m not fishing. I’m just reading.”
“You have fishing gear in your boat. I’ll have to give you a ticket.”
“But officer, I’m not using it. I’m reading.”
“You could start fishing anytime. So I have to write a ticket.”
“Then I could also report you for sexual assault,” she says.
“What? I didn’t touch you!” he replies.
“But you could—you have the equipment,” she answers.
The officer quickly says, “Have a nice day, ma’am,” and leaves.
Never argue with a woman who reads books. A woman who reads knows how to think. Yes, God created man before woman, but that’s because every masterpiece needs a rough draft first.
A long time ago, I once drove past a stop sign without stopping. A police officer pulled me over.
“You didn’t stop at the sign. I have to give you a ticket.”
“I just had a fight with my husband,” I said. “I’m not thinking clearly. I didn’t see the sign. I want to die. Just do whatever you want!”
“Calm down,” the officer said. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”
He drove me to my house and said, “I’ll let you go this time,” and made sure I went inside safely.
The woman in the story was smart and confident. but I acted foolishly. I avoided trouble by getting sympathy, not by being clever. Can reading more books help me become wiser and braver like her? Maybe. I should keep reading and learning—especially books that help me think better.
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