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TRAVELLERS
“Do you believe in God?”
“What?” Brian answered in surprise. He had heard the question clearly, simply not believing his ears. He felt his face grimace as he turned to look at the co-traveller sitting next to him on the bench seat of the packed ageing train commuter carriage.
“Do you believe in God?” repeated the stranger.
Prepared this time; and now consciously leaning further away from his questioner, he thought about his response and how he should react. Over many years of train commuting he had suffered many weird or obnoxious characters seated beside him; some drunk, some smelling unwashed. Packed work commuter trains gave no opportunity to select who you wanted to be next to, seated or standing. He preferred to travel in silence.
“A strange question to be asking a stranger,” he replied.
He quickly glanced up and down at the questioner; about the same age as himself, he looked normal, completely normal, even boringly so; just another suit on any carriage any day of the week.
“Yeah,” the stranger replied. “But a good conversation starter.”
“Bloody Hell,” thought Brian. “Another Jesus freak; and the aisle too crowded with standing passengers to move into.” Over the years of train commuting he had his share of Jesus freaks, but this was the most direct approach. Most would open with a normal easy every day comment, expanding into wider topics; then ambushing you just when you felt relaxed about it all.
“Personal choice isn’t it?” He realized he had replied, though he had not meant to.
The stranger nodded slightly and paused for a time.
“You know we make billions of personal choices during our lives,” the stranger went on. “Who we marry. Where we work, and live; even what we’re going to have for breakfast, lunch or dinner.”
Brian was wishing he had ignored the first question. Now it seemed he was going to get a sermon. It had been an enjoyable day to this point. He drew a deep breath. As he exhaled, thoughts about luckier times flashed through his mind of times when attractive females shared the hard well-worn leather bench seats At least this seat had not suffered the senseless razor-blade vandalism of an idiot. The inside of the carriage looked like it had been recently cleaned of the moronic taggers work.
“And all those choices we make, even the little ones, always affect other people even though we don’t realize it. Some decisions could end a person’s life.”
“Yes, I guess you’re right,” replied Brian courteously and cautiously. You could never guess at the reactions some freaks might have. He had never suffered any violence from any, only the pushy persistence of a salesman with a foot in the door. Should he force an exit move into the already crowded aisle now and get out at the next station to avoid being with this person? He could catch the following train in 15 minutes. Then he worried that maybe the guy was going to get out too, feeling he had a foot in the door. Others had. Then what?
The stranger went on. “Think about it. If everyone took a cut lunch to work, all those take-away places would go out of business and there’d be thousands out of work, thousands less commuters who work in the food business wouldn’t be travelling, the trains wouldn’t travel as frequently, therefore less rail staff, and even more unemployed.”
The guy might be a complete dork but his comments were deeply thought over. Sub-consciously Brian nodded his agreement, then, wished he had not. He was trying not to encourage him but he kept getting self-trapped into answering.
“Those choices then can be life or death to some people.”
Brian cast him another quick glance. The stranger did not look like a mad axe murderer, but what did a standard axe murderer look like? Perhaps the guy was some sort of lay-preacher.
The train pulled into another suburban station. An equal number of people embarked to replace those disembarking. Damn. Still no easy escape route. His mind drifted back to the time a slim very attractive brunette, about his age, sat next to him for nearly the whole journey. He smiled thinking of her face. “Dianne,” she said. “Call me Di, but I won’t.”
He had quickly noticed Di was not wearing a wedding ring and the conversation flowed easily over the 30 minute train journey. Arrangements were made to meet for lunch the next day, which he thoroughly enjoyed; then agreed to meet again, cautiously swapping only work phone numbers.
She had got off the train at Roseland’s Park, two stops before he did. After a couple of lunch dates she agreed to a date that Friday night. They would meet midway in a wine-bar of one of the local suburbs.
After work that Friday, the carriage, as usual, was over-crowded, many standing shoulder to shoulder. During one of the station stops, and shuffling of the passengers, he saw her almost the length of the carriage away. She had not seen him. Though he tried, he could not move closer to her. When the train arrived at Roseland Park, her destination, the crowd moved for the door, he too pushed his way through and disembarked. He could catch a later train. By the time he had forced his way through the crowded station exit-gate, he was a long distance behind so he started to jog.
He had nearly caught up when a tall, well dressed man accompanied by four children stepped on to the footpath. The children were all under eight years old. They ran forward screaming “Mummy,” and quickly surrounded her, cuddling in. She picked up the youngest toddler and walked toward the man. Brian was just within earshot when he heard her say to the man. “Oh I love you so very much,” and gave him a long passionate kiss.
Brian made a quick U-turn, and unseen made his way back into the station. That evening, with Chinese take-a-ways on the table, and watching a rental DVD, he wondered if she had turned up for the date. She had phoned several times over the next few days, but he had given his secretary instructions of a no-contact message for her. He never saw her on the train again. Dammit.
Whether the stranger had continued talking or not, Brian was not aware, having been temporarily in his own space. Another station came and went.
“Penny for them?”
“What?” Again Brian was startled.
“A penny for your thoughts. Isn’t that the old saying? I suppose it should be five cents now though.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“You were away with the fairies for a while there.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Brian mentally kicked himself. Now he had stupidly apologized to this intrusive and pushy God- freak. “I was just reminiscing about an event that happened about 12 months ago.” Damn. There he was, doing it again, effectively inviting further questions and conversation.
Another station; another stop. The standing passenger numbers thinned, some existing passengers pushing quite forcefully to take over the few vacated seats. He scanned his eyes over the fewer standing passengers. A familiar face caught his eye.
“My God it’s her.”
“What?” said the stranger.
“Damn.” He felt confused. He had wanted to see her again; but then again, he did not. His heart skipped a beat. She looked even more beautiful than she did the last time he saw her. Her good looks were attracting the stares of quite a few males. Torn between a feigned anger about her misleading him about her relationship status, and his embarrassment at not being at the meeting place, he was undecided what to do. She had caused him quite a few weeks of restless sleep He put his head down so he could not be easily seen. Subconsciously his mind had decided for itself that hiding was the best self-protection.
The stranger, thankfully, had gone silent. Could he maintain this head down posture until she got off in two more stops? How could he explain his posture to his uninvited chatty co-traveller? Dammit. Why should he have to? This was becoming a really shitty day.
The next station came and went and there were even fewer passengers. Brian did not look up to see if she had found a seat or not; though he wanted to. He kept his head down fighting against his wish for a quick glance.
“Aren’t you going to offer a lad
y your seat?”
He knew it was her immediately he heard the voice. He guiltily and slowly turned around and sat up.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s me, Di, just in case you forgot my name. Are you hiding down there to avoid me?”
“No,” he lied. “Sort of dozing off.” He wanted to say something nasty about her misleading him, but could not.
“What happened to our date? You never turned up. I felt such a darn fool hanging around that wine-bar, waiting, while every drunken lecher in the place tried to pick me up. Then you never answered any of my calls to your work. I was quite upset for a few weeks.”
The train started to slow for the next stop. Brian felt relieved.
“Well. Are you going to get off and explain yourself? You can catch the next one.”
Hell, Brian thought. She’s pushy.
“Of course. There’s a few things I’d like you to iron out too.”
He nodded at the God-freak as he stood and stepped over his legs.
“We haven’t finished our conversation,” said the stranger forcefully.
“Pardon?” asked Brian, unsure if he had heard correctly.
“We haven’t finished our conversation,” said the stranger with even more force.
Brian looked at the stranger’s eyes. A strange chilling expression in the God-freaks eyes caused Brian to shudder briefly. It was as if an ice-cold breeze had run down under the back of his shirt collar. Instinctive reaction made his spine straighten. He ignored it after a moment. He had other worries on his mind. He followed Di and dismounted to the Roseland Park platform just before the doors closed too quickly for some disembarking passengers.
He did not resist as she took his hand and they climbed the few stairs to the roadway level parking area. In fact it felt quite natural.
The sudden appearance of the same tall man he had seen twelve months ago stepping on to the footpath, caused him to stop. The same four children, now a year older, stood beside the man who had a mystified look on his face as his eyes flashed between Brian and his companion.
He quickly released the held hand, and took a step back in case the male, much bigger than him, jumped forward with fists swinging.
“G’day Dave,” said Di. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Meet Brian.”
Oh Hell, thought Brian. He does not know she’s been playing around, and she doesn’t seem to care anyway. What had he got himself into?
“Hi Di. Just waiting for your sister. She’s meant to be on this train,” replied Dave. “You’re not very often on the same one.”
“G’day kids. Where’s my cuddle?” said Di.
The four children immediately ran forward calling out “Hello Aunty,” and cuddled her as she bent down.
“Ah. Here she comes now,” said Dave. They all looked in the direction of the station exit. The four children ran off in the direction of their Mum, now about 15 metres away, cuddling and kissing her as she walked guiding them; again picking up the youngest.
Brian looked at the approaching female and then again at Di. From this short distance it looked like the same person. Only when she joined the group did Brian notice the new arrival was perhaps two or three years older with a slightly different hair style, though identical in colour. She immediately walked up to her husband.
“Ooh I still love you too much,” she said, and gave her husband a long and passionate kiss.
For Brian, the penny dropped. His head drooped and nodded backwards and forward.
“And who’s this then?” said the new arrival.
“Brian,” answered Di. “Brian, this is my sister Belinda. She works in advertising.”
“Sisters,” he said. “That explains a few things.”
Belinda held out her hand and gave a good firm handshake.
“Well I hope you’re coming to our place for dinner,” said Belinda. “I need everybody’s opinion on our new ad campaign that starts around 7:30 pm tonight, after the 7:00 o’clock news. It’s Friday, daylight saving, and we’ve all finished work early, so you can stay up late can’t you Brian?”
“Gee,” started Brian.
“Belinda,” said Di. “Brian might already be busy. Had you thought about that?”
“Actually, I’m not, so…”
“Well it’s all settled then,” said Belinda.
“Come on, we’ve got an eight-seater, we can all pile in,” said Dave.
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While the standard domestics were being done, Brian explained the identification farce of 12 months previous, much to the amusement of Di. While the children were being fed early, Brian and Di sat outside on the broad sun-deck, listening to the birds in the adjoining Roseland Park bush reserve. When the children were bedded it coincided with the completion of the cooking of a lovely lamb roast, and perfect vegetables. The easy flow of the nice wine over dinner made the chat flow just as easily, and the evening passed quickly. The mistaken identity problem was raised many times, each time seeming funnier the more the wine was consumed
At 6:45 pm Belinda turned on the TV with the sound muted yet keeping the remote-control close as they continued their conversation.
Brian glanced at the screen just as the 7:00 pm news started with the introductory music and a still photograph shown on the screen. He sat back suddenly and pointed at the silent screen.
“My God! That’s him!” said Brian.
“Who?” asked Di.
“You know. The one I was next to on the train.”
Belinda quickly turned up the volume to hear the announcer.
“We open this evening with tragic headline news. A murderous rampage occurred a few hundred metres past the Roseland Park station in the northern suburbs earlier this evening. Anyone who can identify this man from the mobile-phone photo, or advise his where-a-bouts, should contact police immediately. Do not approach him; he is armed and very dangerous.”
The screen turned back to the newsreader with the photo now on the top right of the screen.
“He is believed responsible for the deaths of at least 16 people this evening with 16 more suffering wounds and injuries admitted to hospital.”
“The rampage began when the rail traveller shot dead the passenger sitting next to him. He then shot dead another six passengers in the carriage before pulling the emergency cord. The sudden braking of the train caused his shooting to become inaccurate. People fleeing outside the train were randomly shot, and a further five died with 16 wounded. The fleeing suspect barricaded himself in a nearby house bordering the Roseland Park bush reserve. Four of the six occupants were slain with an axe. Two students escaped by jumping from upstairs windows.”
“Witnesses described the man’s actions as irrational, apparently screaming, ‘We haven’t finished our conversation,’ between each fusillade of shots.”
“The Armed Offenders Squad was quickly on the scene, and the suspect exchanged in a short but frantic gun-battle as they tried to set up a perimeter. When they finally entered the premises, he had gone.”
Brian watched transfixed to the TV as a figure walked to the newsreader and handed her a note. She quickly scanned it and returned to face the camera.
“It seems the police no longer require any information as to the where-a-bouts of the suspect. His body has been found about 300 metres inside the bushy area of the Roseland Park Reserve, close to the scene of the shoot-out. It appears he had succumbed to wounds received during the shoot-out.”
“We will be crossing to our reporters at the scene for an update as soon as links are established. The management and staff wish to advise that everybody’s thoughts and prayers are with the families after such a tragic day. We will be crossing to the scene later.” The newsreader then went on to the next item.
“No,” said Di. “Not the guy sitting next to you?”
“Yes,” he replied shuddering. The same cold wind he felt earlier was rushing down his back.