Page 15 of Leaving the Station
But still, the idea of letting her walk off without me is worse than the thought of going with her.
Before I can make a decision, though, she’s gone.
“What a bizarre girl,” Virginia says. “Don’t you think?”
Four
Monday, 3:00 p.m., Somewhere in Upstate NY
We careen through the landscape in the low light of a late-fall afternoon. The café car is fairly empty, and the excitement of the first few hours of the trip has died down. Now there’s a lethargic feeling; it’s nap time for everyone.
There aren’t many sights to see, nor is there much to do, but I can’t bring myself to fall asleep. I try to read, but that’s not happening either.
As a last resort, I pull out my phone and turn off airplane mode, only to find that there’s no service. If there was, I don’t know what my notifications would look like. I might have texts from several people asking where I am and why, or there might be nothing.
I’m not sure which would be worse.
We’re barreling closer and closer to Ithaca, though the train’s path doesn’t cross through the city. Even so, my hands dampen at the thought of being back at school.
I’m not there, I remind myself.
So, instead of worrying (which I’m sure I’ll do anyway), I playTetris until my eyes glaze over. I used to play it so much back in middle school that I would have dreams of the bricks falling into place. I don’t play much now, but being on the train makes me want to return to old comforts.
Maybe it’s also that there was some part of me that understood who I was in middle school. I might’ve called myself a responsible student, the way my parents did, or a Tetris player.
I don’t know what I would call myself now.
For the time being, I can be a Tetris player again.
I’m about to beat my high score when a voice booms over the loudspeaker.
“Hello, my beautiful train people,” the voice says. “It’s your Snack Conductor Edward again, reminding you that the snack car is! Still! Open! I’m here for all your snack needs. Chocolate? Check. Nachos? Check. Coffee? Still got it! Come on down.... I’m waiting for you.” He whispers that last part into the intercom.
I’m technicallyinthe snack car, but the area where the self-proclaimed Snack Conductor is selling food is at the opposite end. I figure I’ll have to meet this Edward guy at some point, so I might as well get it over with now.
There’s a short line, and I stand awkwardly near a trash can so I’m not in the way. Even here, in the snack car, I can’t bring myself to take up space.
It’s not that I thought I wouldn’t feel this way on the train. I knew I would, but living like this is exhausting.
Edward the Snack Guy is stationed behind a bar with a coffeemachine, a fridge, a microwave, and, of course, a variety of snacks lining the wall.
“And here’s your Diet Dr Pepper,” Edward says, overenunciating each word and presenting the soda with a flourish to the person at the front of the line. The guy nods and walks away with his head down.
“Now, what can I get for you?” Edward asks the next person. “Anything your heart desires—so long as I’ve got it. HA!” He throws his head back and almost knocks over a cardboard container of granola bars.
He’s working the crowd, and no one’s enjoying it.
“Can I just have a coffee?” I ask Edward when it’s my turn to order.
He gasps dramatically. “Justa coffee? Not a snack?”
“I’m good.”
“You hear that? This kid is good!” he says to the person behind me in line, laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “You sure I can’t interest you in ...” He ducks below the counter and pulls out an array of bars and bags. “Snickers? Potato chips?Kettlechips?”
I feel bad enough that I agree to the Kettle chips. He grins and hands me a cup of coffee and the bag, and I pass him my debit card.
“You made me proud today.” He wipes a fake tear from his eye as he swipes it. “Are you heading to Chicago?”
