An Hour at the Train Station
He slid his money under the glass and waited. She was attentive for a teenager, and her fingers quickly typed on the keyboard in front of her. He held his shoulder strap tight.
“Your ticket,” she said without taking her eyes off the screen. She was cute. Lingering for just a moment, he had hoped to meet her gaze just once so she would at least remember his face. When her eyes remained on the screen he gave up and turned away to walk out the door to the track.
It was a gorgeous day, truly. The thin air was warmed just enough by the sun to keep his skin from raising its hairs, as surely this would be a giveaway of nerves. But the boy was not nervous, no, not in the least! He had planned this for years. Details were always fudged and of course they had to be, he was never a good planner. Nor was he particularly skilled in organizing, clear thinking, the sciences, softer subjects, speaking his mind, or being heard. And that’s what brings him here today.
Today. What a day! He couldn’t get over it; he wouldn’t! Of all the dim days of his past (his Farris wheel rides in the rain, swimming in January, jogging in the dripping orange heat of the sun); but of course today was just right. The world was in sync for him: Michael Dresden, by the way.
Other passengers meandered one by one out of the back entrance to the tracks. A grubby teen awoken for travel, a mother with a confident hand on her daughter’s shoulder, an older man sporting short white hair and striking black gloves. Lost in their heads, waiting for the train. As was Michael.
Michael had opinions on certain things. For instance he loved eating peanuts, but didn’t like chunky peanut butter. He thought the textures were too contrasting for his palate. And this was true for him. Another thing he believed was that no one could hear him. Not literally, he would think, but…. And his thought would delay and shrink as if he was actually considering the world’s muteness a possibility. Increasingly over the years, he wanted more than anything to be heard.
You see, Michael didn’t care about religions, or races, or diversity, or much of anything really, but he certainly was observant. Like today for instance, when he heard a faint sound in the distance.
The trains whistle in the distance started blaring, Michael watched the tracks for vibrations.
Michael noticed that some people would say that only Muslims or other ‘dark extremists’ would ever commit a terrorist act.
The vibrations came slight at first, then enough to shake off the smallest pebbles that once hugged the track.
Michael was as white and innocent as they come (college-bound, average grades, suburban dwellings) and it started as a ‘wouldn’t it be funny if….’
The train appeared around the corner of the track and only got larger.
Then he thought how stereotypes would get flipped on their head and how racial profiling would be not a valid excuse anymore because maybe this person is just as crazy as that other seemingly normal boy… what was his name?
The solemn face of the train boar past him and the screeching wheels pleaded with the tracks to break the motion.
Michael looked down at his bag- a ridiculous weight for the skinny boy.
The loud exhale of the train signified that it was time to board and Michael knew he was no exception.
He looked around at the people and felt a faint twang of guilt, but then reassured himself with the fact that they all probably believe in heaven. Then, as if called to the front of the class to give his report on his most passionate subject, he boarded the train, skip in his step. (At least as much skip as the heavy bag would allow). He sat down, looked up, his heart jumped.
Ten minutes later- as the newspapers, televisions, radio personalities, mothers, brothers, false lovers, basement dwellers, children, co-workers, the hotel clerks, skirt-flirts, true jerks, the hurt, from nurse to nurse, the merciless, rumor-perpetuators, security guards, the fight-starters, flight attendants, ticket collectors, dreamers, schemers, jail-mates, free birds, creepers, loud mouths, and even quite peepers would say- the world exploded.
And all the little pieces fell, like eyes to the headlines.
