It’s Tuesday morning. A great night’s sleep. I’m Regenerated. I rise. I rise. I rise.
I walk to the train station to catch the 5:40. 62° F. The Air is still. The Birds are singing. Blue skies.
It’s Quiet.
The Train pulls up. 5:39am. Second train of the day. It’s packed.
I wedge past another commuter and take the window seat.
A Lady, mid-60’s, is facing me. She’s in a 3-seater, on a full train, with her purse blocking the seat to her right and a bottle of Poland Springs water blocking the left. “Prickly.” She has a cup of coffee in an unmarked styrofoam cup in her left hand and she’s pecking away on a crossword puzzle on an iPad. She does not lift her head as I pass.
It’s Quiet. The soft hum of the electric current powering the train. The clickety-clack of the tracks. And the Lady snorting and re-snorting phlegm up her nasal passages. Is she swallowing it?
The Conductor breaks the silence on the P.A.: Good morning! I have an important announcement. He pauses. The heads in the car all bob up to listen. Today’s Danny’s last day after 20 years with MetroNorth. He’s covering the middle cars. Danny, we all wish you good luck in your retirement. God Speed.
Danny comes through the door calling for tickets. He’s a Giant of a Man. 6’5″. 260 lbs. Unshaven. Wearing his Metro North trainman’s hat and uniform. Grabbing and punching tickets. 20 years with MetroNorth.
I hand him my ticket. He punches it.
Danny moves to the Lady. He towers over her. The Lady shows him her Monthly pass and looks up. “You know you left the train station at 5:39, 1 minute early. People are going to be upset.”
The Lady turns to me to elicit support. I’m stone faced. “I’ll be sure to let the conductor know.” Danny glances back at me, we smile and he moves down the aisle. The Lady turns back to her crossword puzzle. And back to snorting her Phlegm. A Gremlin, that’s what she is.
I turn my head out the window. The Sun is painting tree tops. Airbrushing the rooftops. Buildings are half ablaze in light and half still in the shadows. Gotham is stirring.
She’s Alone.
I went traveling to a wreck of a place. There were three gates standing ajar and a fence that broke off. It was not the wreck of anything else in particular. A place came there and crashed. After that it remained the wreck of a place. Light fell on it.
—Anne Carson, ”Short Talk on Where to Travel” from Short Talks
Credits: Image – THISISEVERYTHING. Quote: Schonwieder
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The Armament of a Solitary Life.
Yes, so true Sandy
I love when you write. Full stop. My best wishes to Danny and my deepest sympathy to a woman who will never know what it’s like to be engaged with all the life swirling around her begging to be noticed.
Thank you Mimi.
For better or worse, I have never ridden a train to work. If nothing else, it sounds interesting and fodder for lots of great stories, like this one.
Yes Ray. People watching is sport. Thank you for your kind words.
There is a reason some people are alone…….though I’m sure she was just giving Danny a proper send-off so he wouldn’t doubt his decision to retire.
Funny. And true.
Alone on a packed train, in a station buzzing with activity. Eleanor Rigsby, in the flesh.
Yes. Analogous…
Some of the best stories are from our everyday travels. We need only observe and take notice. You are a storyteller my friend. Nice writing.
All the best – Michael
Yes. Thank you Michael. Appreciate the kind words. Have a good weekend.
WMS. You have a gift, pal, you have a gift….. And that gremlin, well, she’s squandering the precious gift she’s been given, and that makes me very sad for her.
Yes, I reached the sad point too Lori, when I saw her standing alone in the vast Grand Central Terminal. She looked so small, so alone.
“I turn my head out the window. The Sun is painting tree tops. Airbrushing the rooftops. Buildings are half ablaze in light and half still in the shadows. Gotham is stirring.” – This was my favorite part…a bit of poetry in these words. 🙂 There was a time when I rode the train from Sacramento to Berkeley once a week. I remember watching the people and imagining what their lives were like. In all that time, I never once had to sit across from a Gremlin. Maybe it’s just that you notice more… like “snorting phlegm.” I hope that woman does have some happiness in her life.
Smiling. I do too Carol. Thank you.
i love the contrast of how each of the characters (including yourself), travel through life in a completely unique way, yet cross paths and coexist in the same small space for a time. each sizing the other up and trying to understand.
Thank you Beth.
Contrast. Life is about contrast. Let’s us appreciate the beauty, like the painted rooftops.
Yes, the Yin and the Yang. Thanks Tiny.
I’m going to have nightmares about the lady swallowing….oh shudders….
🙂 Smiling.
As always a great observation told in a beautiful way. The sky, chill in the air. You’re the best.
Awww, thank you for the kind words. I appreciate it.
Your observations are so spot on. But I have a serious question. I’m Swiss and have lived on 2 continents and 4 countries. In my home country you bord a train, bus, tram, anything, you see an empty seat or a near-empty seat with all the stuff on it just the way you wrote above. You’d say: Is this seat free? And if the person has not reserved it for somebody who is on the toilet or catching a drink, and IF that person doesn’t remove her stuff, you’d ask her to free the space. Simple. Effective. As it would be for the ticket collector. It just isn’t on that some ppl occupy 3 seats in a crowded train. For some time, we had problems with ppl who put their feet on the opposite bench. That was tricky too. I don’t know if this is still an issue….
In England ‘the question’ wasn’t always taken kindly either. But stuff got moved and seats were available.
Here in France there is a bizarre law that you cannot ‘move’ children occupying seats. This is really harrowing when you see several children taking up precious places and all around, adults, tired and visibly stressed out, pregnant mothers, elderly folks have to stand, be squeezed left and right…. You can even ask them to get up and you’re roasted in hell by their minders who tell you that YOU have NO RIGHT to ask them to get up. How on earth are they going to stand up and give over a place when they are adults, if nobody teaches them as a child, that maybe climbing on the knees of their parent would be adequate, so that a tired person finds a rest? Do I sound old, bitter, frustrated? I’m not, but I’m a keen observer, as you are. And I’ve learned as a child already to take the feelings of others in consideration and sometimes give them priority.
Hi Kiki. The problem you state re: stuff on seats is a REAL problem here too. And I never seem to be surprised as how rude some can be. And when you ask them to move the stuff, it’s like you are imposing on them. Unreal. As to the rules in France, sounds like there needs to be a rule change. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.