“Can you please stop staring at me?” I asked the really tall stranger with a mustache and goatee, after noticing his intense gaze again, while waiting in line for the ferry in Boston. He shook his head, then replied, “I know you somehow and I need to find out.”

I wasn’t annoyed, just confused- I had honestly never met this man before in my life, so clearly, he was thinking I was someone else. He continued to stare, frowning every once in a while, which I was now ignoring. Luckily, the ferry arrived shortly after and we boarded, me trying to escape him and going right up to the top deck, also hoping to avoid becoming seasick by using the fresh air.

It was a short ferry ride, but even after five minutes I knew I was not going to make it and found a spot on the floor of the top level, where the guard rail met the cabin of the ship, just so I could lean on something while trying desperately not to vomit. I had my eyes closed, forcing myself to breathe through my nose, which helps me sometimes, when I felt someone sit next to me and a hand touch my forehead as he asked, “Are you ok? Can I help you?” I opened my eyes to find the exact same stranger from before, this time without his facial hair, but at that moment I did not care.

“No, you can’t help me. I’m just really seasick and need to survive this ride,” I replied. He made a noise like he understood, then put his arm behind me and began rubbing my back. I was too focused on breathing to stop him, so I ignored it and continued counting down the minutes until I was off the ship. He began holding one of my hands, squeezing mine, then tracing my fingers, distracting me and actually helping me not think about wanting to vomit so much. I kept my eyes closed as I told him, “I don’t know how you figured out how to help me but thank you- it is actually working.”

He didn’t comment, but made a happy sound, which I assumed meant he accepted my words. When the captain announced the arrival of the ship at the destination, he cheered for me quietly, then asked where I was going, so he could help me get off the ship. I opened my eyes, now staring fully up at his concerned face, then said, “I’m trying to get to the Statue of Liberty. I hope I can still do the tour.”

He grinned and replied, “Me too! I am going there also. We can go together and I can be helpful to you.”

I honestly was so thankful that he was trying to help me that I smiled back, figuring even if he was dangerous, he would be harmless during a group tour, right?

The ship landed and he helped me stand, where I wobbled and almost fell down, but luckily he caught me, seeing how pale I was, and decided to just hold onto my arm while we were exiting. The stairs literally looked like they were one giant ramp to me, which he soon realized after my second stumble and solved the issue by piggybacking me down them, carefully setting me down at the bottom, where I leaned against the wall, trying to gain some balance back.

He was really worried but knew we needed to get off the boat so he could help me and made it his life’s mission to accomplish it. As soon as we were on land, he cheered and picked me up, spinning me around, then set me down, forgetting I was already dizzy and now doubly-so. I crumpled to the ground like a forgotten toy, which he barely managed to catch before my head hit the cement, him realizing his mistake too late and me now unable to focus on anything, since it seemed like the floor was tilting and the sky was swirling. He knelt by me, trying to figure out what to do, when a staff member noticed us and used their walkie talkie to call for help.

The nice thing about Ellis Island is that they have enough space for an actual medical room in the base of the Statue of Liberty, so I was lifted onto a stretcher and then wheeled into their medical room, which should have embarrassed me, but I was so sick I literally could not speak.

He never left my side, holding my hand as they wheeled me inside, telling them I had gotten sick on the boat at first. They quickly asked me some questions about allergies, then decided to give me an IV with some anti-nausea medicine, which they hoped would help. I could only lie there, responding in whispers whenever someone asked me something.

He never left my side, smoothly a few wild hairs away from my face, squeezing my good hand, rubbing my back or arm or leg, or just randomly telling me things that didn’t make any sense. I had no idea at the time, but he was actually telling me he was attracted to me, but in such a way that it was like a puzzle, and of course, I was too dizzy to even attempt such complex thinking.

“I enjoy your hands, but I need to be careful next time, so you don’t fall down again,” he said.

“Even though you are pale, your face has a good look to it, and I don’t mind seeing you,” he mentioned.

“When I get close to you, I notice how good you smell and that is a good thing for the Earth,” he told me.

The random comments continued, me getting more and more confused, not understanding anything he was actually saying, until an hour had passed and I was finally starting to feel better.

“I am so sorry for making you miss the tour. Please don’t be angry with me,” I told him, tears in my eyes.

He touched one of my cheeks and replied, “No amount of anger is in my body when it comes to you. I only keep happiness for when I touch your cheeks.” Again, I did not understand, but his smile made me feel like everything was going to be ok.