2023 Short Story & Essay Contest: Honorable Mention, Adult Short Story Contest
I was getting off the train and this guy waved at me.
“Spare some change?”
He was tall and black. His red stocking cap was loose on his head. In fact, all his clothes were loose on him. He just sort of fluttered there as the train whizzed out of the station. My headphones were in so I kept walking like I never heard him. He tried again.
“Sir,” he said, waiting until I removed my earbuds, “could you spare a dollar?” His amber eyes were as droopy as his clothes. I wondered if he knew I had ignored him on purpose.
“Sorry, man,” I said, not meaning it. “I don’t keep cash on me.” I shoved the headphones in my ear and kept walking.
The cement walls of the Metro station were blackened with grime. An old newspaper lay crumpled on the ground. I kicked it aside as I stepped through the fare gate. I ascended the escalator towards street level and I looked back. The guy was still standing there on the platform with his back to me, billowing in the breeze. I clutched my wallet through my pants pocket.
Outside, people brushed past along the sidewalk on their way to work. I heard someone laughing on the phone and I felt something heavy slide off of my conscience. It was a bright October day. The wind wasn’t strong, so it was warm.
“How’d it go?” Brenda’s voice crackled on the line.
I pushed out of the building’s glass doors. “I don’t think they want me.”
“What makes you say that?” Her tone crept higher. “What did they say?”
The wind blew stronger than an hour earlier, and the sun hid behind a cloud. I pulled my tattered windbreaker tighter. I needed a new one; it had a hole in the sleeve. “Oh, you know, the same old,” I said. “There’s a lot of people interviewing for this position; we’ll let you know if we’re interested; thanks for coming out.” I was starting down the escalator back to the train.
“Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean you didn’t get it,” she hoped aloud. “You never know, I’ve had interviews I thought went terrible and two weeks later they call back saying I got the job.”
“Maybe,” I said, not meaning it. “Maybe.” At the bottom of the escalator, there was yelling. I craned my neck. Some cops had the guy in the red stocking cap leaning against the grimy wall and they were putting on cuffs.
“Anyway, you’ve got an interview next week, right?” Brenda went on. “Maybe that will go better.”
The cops shoved the guy onto the ground with his hands behind his back. His droopy eyes met mine and I looked away.
“What did I say?” the cop barked, kicking the guy. “Don’t move another inch.”
The guy just lay limp beside the crumpled newspaper.
“Are you there?” Brenda said. “What’s going on?”
I walked through the fare gate as the train was pulling in.
“Sorry, honey,” I said. “I’ll call you back.”
I pushed my way onto the car just as the doors shut. I took a seat in the back and the train shot into the tunnel, throwing shadows around the car. Lights trailed past in the window glass. and I felt my stomach crumple in on itself, like old newspaper.
