He stood there, tall, slim, wearing a grey coat. It ended right before his knees and was a bit too tight around the waist. He entered the train and stood across from me, his head moving from side to side, surveying the passengers but he would steal glances at me. It was strange how he got on the train through that door, at that station and looked straight at me. Not at my ankle jeans or army boots, not at my over-sized scarf or rugged shoulder bag. Not at my denim jacket or unkempt hair, he looked me in the eyes. He looked at me.
He was tall. Even at five feet away from each other I still had to look up at him. More than anything, I was confused. He was wearing a grey coat, nice shoes, dress pants and a nice shirt. He is not my type or at least, he’s not the type to pay attention to me. Yet he did. For a fraction of a second we locked eyes and he saw everything that I was.
I felt myself panic. My heart was rushing, did he know me? He produced a small book from his left pocket and was now reading, paying no attention to my beating heart and shallow breath. In my mind I was going through my entire life, have I met him before and forgot? No, I don’t think I would have. Although he doesn’t look extraordinarily anything he’s not particularly dull either. I would remember his eyes. Do I remember those eyes?
I was shuffling on my feet trying to keep calm. I was fiddling with my hands and tearing at the dry skin around my fingernails. I glanced up and saw him looking at my hands over the top of his book. He knows I’m nervous, he knows he’s making me nervous. Why is he making me nervous? I look at him but he goes back to his book. Is he not interested anymore? Is he playing mind games? Why would he lock eyes with me in the first place?
– Hi.
I didn’t see him. I didn’t see him move, he just appeared before me. When did he take the steps towards me? I looked at him but couldn’t respond, my mind was everywhere and nowhere. He was still standing there looking at me. Waiting for an answer. Hello? I should say something.
– My name is Alex, you?
– Maria.
Was it really me who said that. I responded without thinking.
– Hi Maria, nice to meet you.
A short smile curved his lips. Why was he doing this? He was still holding the book in his left hand. He was even taller, now I had to actually look up at him. Why isn’t he saying anything?
– I apologize for intruding on you all of a sudden, but I have a question. If I may?
A question? Is he going to ask what I was thinking, have we met before?
– What’s your story?
What’s my…
– Excuse me?
– Your eyes, they carry sadness. Your hands, anxiousness. Your shoulders are heavy even without the bag. What is the story that you carry with you with such burden?
– I don’t… I’m not… I don’t understand.
– Tell me, where are you going?
– Why would I tell you?
– You’re on a train, you’re going somewhere. I’m just curious as to where.
– I’m going to see my boyfriend.
– That’s lovely. What’s his name?
– Alex, just like yours.
– Alex. How old is Alex?
– Why does that matter?
– I’d say 28-30?
– Twenty.. why would you say that?
– Just a thought.
– He’s 29.
– And you’re 17.
– I’m… Are you stalking me? Do you know me?
– No, I’m just really good at guessing ages.
He feigned another smile. This time it was a deeper, sadder smile. A smile that carried with it a great scar.
– I don’t know you and you’re asking me what is my story? What’s your story?
– My story? My story is simple. I travel on trains and ask people what their story is.
– You’re joking, right? You ask people what their story is?
– Yes. I read stories, listen to stories and sometimes edit stories.
– What are you reading right now?
– Oh, this? He said glancing down at his book. It’s a story about a town filled with voices. A traveler gets off at a station and wonders into a town filled with voices without people.
– Filled with voices but no people? Are they ghosts? Can he see spirits?
– Not yet at least. All she can do for now is listen. Just like me. So, what’s your story?
– My story? There’s no story. I’m just an ordinary girl.
– Aren’t we all?
– What do you mean?
– Aren’t we all ordinary? Just bodies moving about, nothing special. Day in and day out, different place but same construction. We are all pretty much identical, except for our minds.
– Is that what makes us extraordinary?
– No, it makes you unique. Nikola Tesla was extraordinary, Ghandi was extraordinary, Genghis Khan was extraordinary. You and me? We’re quite ordinary, but unique.
– So I’m ordinarily unique?
– Correct. The only thing that sets you apart from everyone else is what combination of everything is inside your mind. So tell me, what is inside your mind that shaped the burned you’re carrying right now.
– Burden? I’m not carrying any burdens.
– That is a lie.
– Excuse me, who do you think you are, calling me a liar?
– I merely say what I see, and right now I see a lie. You may not be a liar but that statement was a lie, coming out of the mouth of not-a-liar.
– I’m… I ran away from home…
– You ran away to see Alex?
– Yes.
– Why?
– Because Alex and I are in love.
– And who at home was preventing you from loving one another?
– My father.
– Why is that?
– Because… because he’s an asshole.
– That may be true. I’m not the one to judge him. What makes him an asshole?
– He says Alex is no good. Alex is a loser but I know Alex is kind and gentle and loving and caring and sweet and… and…
I’m not going to cry in front of a stranger. It took a lot of effort but I managed to hold back my tears. Why is he driving me to tears? Who is he?
– You ran away from home to be with someone who loves you?
– I… yes.
– That is a lie.
– I don’t know.
– Why don’t you know?
– He never said it.
– He never said he loves you back?
– No.
– But you love him?
– Yes.
– And that’s why you ran away from home.
– Yes.
– That is a lie.
– No it’s not I love him!
– I know you do but that’s not why you ran away from home.
Did my father send him to find me? Does my father know? How can he tell that I’m lying who is he? He looking at me, waiting for an answer. Why is the truth so important to him? Why does he even care? We’ve been staring at each other for a while now but I can’t look away. His eyes are gray. Blue maybe? Grayer than his gray coat. But they’re not empty. Something stirs behind them, something blue.
– I ran away from home to be with Alex.
– Because…
– Because I love him!
– Because you’re pregnant.
– WHAT?!
– You ran away from home to tell Alex that you’re pregnant.
– How do you know that?!
– It’s pretty clear to be honest but that’s not all. You don’t love it.
– I… I don’t know.
– You’re going to ask him what to do. You yourself realize that there is no family for it.
– Alex would never…
– He will. The next stop is my stop. I will give you a choice. Leave the train with me, switch platforms and go back home. Tell your father and ask him what to do. Or, stay on the train and go see Alex who you will never hear from again after you tell him.
– How do you know that?
– You’ll be going to a ghost town. You will only hear voices, voices of the past, voices of the people who no longer are in your life. You will be alone surrounded by people who aren’t really there.
– I don’t… Alex will never abandon me.
And so I stayed. He turned and left. I watched him leave the train, book in hand. He looked right, then he looked left, then up. The train started moving and my gaze followed him. He was standing in place, looking at the sky and… vanished? No, he must be behind someone else. I ran to the window and looked on the platform as the train was accelerating but he wasn’t there.
He’s… who is he? I reached my stop and left the train, walking towards Alex’s apartment. I’ll tell him about the baby and he will know what to do. He will tell me that he loves us and that we will be a family. The people around me don’t know, my father doesn’t know. I’m… I’m going to be okay, everything is going to work out.
I knock on his door. Nobody answers. I call his phone. He doesn’t answer. I text him, once, twice, twenty times. I sit on his steps and wait. Maybe he forgot his phone at home but I don’t hear any ringing inside. Maybe it’s on vibrate. Yes, that must be it. I look at the tree in front of the apartment building and I can hear the birds singing. It’s a warm autumn day and the birds are… not there? I can hear them sing.
I decide to get a bite to eat, I skipped breakfast rushing out of the house. I go to the nearest corner store and it’s empty.
– Hello?
– Can I please get a pack of Marlborough and a stick of gum?
– Who said that? Hello?
– That will be ten ninety-five
– HELLO?! Is anybody there?
– Thank you. Have a nice day.
– Bye.
– HELLO! WHERE ARE YOU?
Nothing is moving. Nobody is here I must hearing things. I run into the street and it’s empty. It’s a small street but there should be at least one person going somewhere. Anywhere?
I run back to the apartment and knock on the door. Again. Again. Again. Nothing.
I can hear voices from the apartment next door so I ring the bell. The door opens. There’s nobody at the door.
– Hello? a voice asks from inside the apartment.
– Hello, is anyone there? I shout into the empty apartment.
– Darling who is it? A second voice comes from inside.
– Excuse me? Have you seen Alex? Your neighbor?
– I don’t know, there’s nobody here. Must be those kids again. Why don’t their parents take them to school. I’ll have a talk with them tonight.
– HELLO?! I’M RIGHT HERE.
The door shuts in my face. The voice was crystal clear. Right in front of me. I’m… I’m not crazy, the door opened, two people talked then it closed. I heard them talk. This is insane. This can’t be real.
Someone is laughing. Alex’s door opens. Two voices are laughing. A deep male voice and a high pitched female voice. It’s Alex’s laugh. He’s laughing with someone. I enter the apartment.
– Alex is that you?!
– Alex come on, we don’t have much time, you know I can’t skip the next class.
– Alright, alright. I wanted to smoke first.
– You’ll smoke after, let’s go.
– ALEX?! WHERE ARE YOU?
They’re inside the house. I hear them talking from the next room. They must be in the bedroom. The door is open and someone is laughing inside the room, the girly voice is giggling. I must be insane. I know they’re in here. I look in every room but the voices are clearing coming from the… the moanings? She’s moaning? They’re… He’s… I can’t listen to this, it can’t be real. I must have fallen asleep on the train, I’m not in a ghost town. This is all a dream. One long bad dream I have to wake up. WAKE UP MARIA!
Nothing.
They’re still moaning inside the bedroom and I’m standing in front of the closed front door.
WAKE UP! This can’t be real. I grab the doorknob but it doesn’t move. I push harder but it won’t budge. I push harder, WAKE UP MARIA! This can’t be real, OPEN WHY WON’T YOU OPEN.
It opened.
In front of the door Alex was standing. His eyes were blue, the book was still in his left hand. He slowly put it in his left pocket and took my hand.
– Come.
I followed. He was taking me back to the train station. The train was waiting for us on the platform. Nobody else was there.
– Get on the train and go home. Don’t talk to anyone until you get home. It will be night when you get home, don’t stay up. Don’t call anyone, just go to sleep. When you wake up everything will be okay. You will forget Alex and write a new future.
– Okay.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. What was there to say? He was the only one who could see me.
– This is not the end of your story.
He opened the book and showed me where he had stopped reading earlier.
” Maria was on the platform, a soft wind was blowing through her chocolate colored hair and her deep hazlenut eyes widened as she was reading. Words were appearing before her very eyes and she couldn’t believe it. The book was writing itself. She took the book from his hands…”
… and turned the page. It was white. Nothing was written anywhere for the rest of the book. She turned back the pages and there she was, inside Alex’s apartment listening to him and a girl have sex. She kept turning the pages and reached a part that was torn out. The pages had been ripped out. The last thing written was “I saw him from across the room, he was looking at me. Tall, dark hair. I didn’t know who he was but he was coming over.” Every page after that was torn out, that was the night that I met him and we…
– Go home. You can’t rewrite your story but you can forget it. Go to sleep, tomorrow will be different.
– Who are you?
– I’m merely a traveler who listens to stories.
– That book…
– That book is mine and mine only. I get to decide what pages stay and which to reap out.
– You, you ripped them out.
– Reaped them out would be more appropriate. The thread of time is not as strong as we think it is.
– But now, will I forget everything?
– Yes. I can reap your past but nobody can take your future away from you. It hasn’t been written yet. No matter how many pages I reap out of this book, there will always be a blank page to write on. Until you reach a black page.
– A black page?
– Yes, that is when the Black Reaper comes to collect the journal.
– The Black Reaper? You mean death?
– You could call it that.
– When is my black page?
– I don’t know. The page will fill with black ink and that is when the story ends.
– So you’re Death?
– No. I’m just a traveler.
– A traveler who reaps history.
– That is… one way to put it.
I boarded the train and sat. The more we rode the more people would board the train. Slowly all the seats filled with people. Not only voices. There were people on the train and I could see them, not only hear them. I dropped my phone and the person sitting next to me picked it up smiling. She could see me. And she smiled at me. She could SEE ME!
Sorin Petrov. Personals 