The nagging habit of the fellow next to me on the train of anxiously peering out the window from time to time was getting on my nerves. I began to sigh, loudly, as he kept this up.
Finally, he turned to me, “Pardon me, Madam, Is something bothering you?”
I sighed again, exasperated, “Is there a stop you think you’ll miss if you don’t keep looking out the window?”
“No, just my grandparents who live in Summerville.”
“Well, they should be calling that out when they get there and let you off.”
“Sorry, but it’s an obscure stop, and I can’t take any chances.”
I sighed again, “Is there a death in the family? Is that what makes you so intense?”
“Death?” he responded incredulously.
“Yeah, people die, even those close to us in our families.”
“My grandparents are very much alive!”
“Sorry if I offended you.”
“Finally, I heard the announcement: “Summerville up ahead.”
The man asked to be excused to get by me and collected his belongings from the overhead shelf.
I could see that it must be an obscure stop, as he was the only one stopping off. I moved over and looked out the window. I saw two people board the train after my companion got off.
Two older people, who looked somehow youthful in fact, greeted him with open arms. Strangely, they turned around, all three of them; to stare at my window as my traveling companion pointed it out to them. They stood with a set of frozen smiles, waving at me in slow motion. Nobody on the platform paid them much attention. They just walked by them.
“Well,” I said to the conductor as the train jerked back into motion, and he came by to punch my ticket, ‘”I’m glad that guy was reunited with his loved ones, so I can have some peace.”
He looked at me, puzzled.
“What guy?”
“The guy that got off at this stop.”
“Listen, Lady, I’m just getting around to punching up the tickets in this car. We only stopped for one couple from Summerville. Very few people go there, and certainly none this trip. It’s nearly a ghost town.”
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Grim Reaper Alley on Fright Night
The velvet glove brushed my cheek and held me spellbound. I looked down the dark alley apprehensively, after just dropping my books in the book bin. Was there no one except the “glove” and myself about? Such things happened only to others to be discovered later in the newspaper.
“So,” said the gentleman, “You’re taking a risk, you know, a woman, out here after hours.”
“I suppose I am,” I agreed, “but the books were due today, and I had forgotten until I looked inside the covers.”
I tried to remain calm and to act as though the stranger was merely interested in my welfare. At least, I would feign such an attitude.
He lit his pipe after snapping on his lighter. I saw his face, which looked somehow familiar, although I couldn’t place it. There was something unsettling about it, though.
“So, what do you think the distraction was?”
“Distraction?”
“You seem like a level-headed, responsible woman. One would hardly think you would cut such a thing as books due so close.”
“Well, no distraction, really.”
“No?”
“ It was just one of those slipups.”
“Perhaps your memory could use some refreshing then.”
I felt my hair stand on end and my stomach sink.
“Do you recall,” he continued, “ that there was a rather tall sort of fellow, taking his grandson out on this Halloween night?”
“There were many parents and grandparents, sir.”
“I’d say,” he went on as if not noticing the remark, “he was probably, yes, close to my height. You engaged him in conversation, and the child went off with his grandmother, you engaged him so well. You then gave him an extra piece of fudge just for himself.”
“H-h-how did you know all this?”
He lit a match; the face was beginning to strike a greater sense of recognition.
“Yes,” he went on, “some people work in plain clothes.”
He, then, removed the fedora he was wearing to reveal a police patrol hat.
”We’ve been looking for you a long time, Kathy, ever since those many reports on Maxwell Street, reports of poisonings. Some children almost died. Perhaps, you need to keep those books for something to fill the time. There’ll be a long time in prison,” he said quietly, as he clasped the cold handcuffs around my wrists.
“So,” said the gentleman, “You’re taking a risk, you know, a woman, out here after hours.”
“I suppose I am,” I agreed, “but the books were due today, and I had forgotten until I looked inside the covers.”
I tried to remain calm and to act as though the stranger was merely interested in my welfare. At least, I would feign such an attitude.
He lit his pipe after snapping on his lighter. I saw his face, which looked somehow familiar, although I couldn’t place it. There was something unsettling about it, though.
“So, what do you think the distraction was?”
“Distraction?”
“You seem like a level-headed, responsible woman. One would hardly think you would cut such a thing as books due so close.”
“Well, no distraction, really.”
“No?”
“ It was just one of those slipups.”
“Perhaps your memory could use some refreshing then.”
I felt my hair stand on end and my stomach sink.
“Do you recall,” he continued, “ that there was a rather tall sort of fellow, taking his grandson out on this Halloween night?”
“There were many parents and grandparents, sir.”
“I’d say,” he went on as if not noticing the remark, “he was probably, yes, close to my height. You engaged him in conversation, and the child went off with his grandmother, you engaged him so well. You then gave him an extra piece of fudge just for himself.”
“H-h-how did you know all this?”
He lit a match; the face was beginning to strike a greater sense of recognition.
“Yes,” he went on, “some people work in plain clothes.”
He, then, removed the fedora he was wearing to reveal a police patrol hat.
”We’ve been looking for you a long time, Kathy, ever since those many reports on Maxwell Street, reports of poisonings. Some children almost died. Perhaps, you need to keep those books for something to fill the time. There’ll be a long time in prison,” he said quietly, as he clasped the cold handcuffs around my wrists.
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