Welcome
to Needless Things Spotlight, where we focus on new fiction from
talent around the internet.
Today's
short form story is the first part of several that will be published
over the course of the next several months.
This Is Car Number 187
D.
D. DeJesus
I.
Tapping
his index finger alongside the brim of his yellow hard hat, Joseph
waits for the Marta underground transit to arrive at Lindbergh
Station. The air is cool and spreads a quiet breeze of air across
his damp forehead. He brushes his hair around causing his hair to
look messier than it already is.
“How
long ‘til the next train, sir?” said a voice from out of nowhere,
which snaps Joseph out of his relaxing gaze.
Turning
to his right, a young black female with hazel eyes beam at him
awaiting his answer.
“Five
minutes, I believe,” said Joseph.
“Thank
you,” said the young woman smiling in thankfulness.
“It’s
nothing.”
The
young woman places her ear buds into her ears, as she walks away to
sit down on the benches. She appears to be a student due to the books
stuffed in her laptop bag. Joseph wanted to take another look at the
woman, so he pretended to be looking at the advertisements on the
wall behind her. He feels slightly stupid and cowardly for doing this
because it was plainly obvious she took no real interest in him. She
never looked in his direction.
The
headlights of the train begin to illuminate the dark tunnel as it
approaches the station. Joseph picks up his backpack and swings it
over his left shoulder. The young woman inches herself forward. The
train hisses to a stop and the doors slide open letting the people
who wants to exit get off and allowing Joseph and the young woman to
board. Joseph spots a seat in the back and heads for it. He tosses
his backpack into the seat and flops down, as the doors slide close
for departure.
“Thank
you for riding Marta. The next stop is Art Center Station…”
Joseph
checks his cellphone for the time and it reads: 10:21 p.m. He pushes
the phone back into his front pocket and begins scanning his
surroundings. Sitting across from him is a homeless man sleeping in
a dirty, gray cloth. Two seats ahead, a young teenage girl stares
out the window with her hoodie covering most of her hair. Across
from her is the young woman from the station, and standing beside her
is a Mexican male, appearing to be in his late 30’s, wearing the
familiar construction worker uniform that Joseph is accustomed to six
days out of the week.
“Are
we almost there, daddy?” said a little Japanese girl, playfully
tapping her father’s leg.
“Yes,
ma’am,” said the father smiling back at her. “Your mother is
there waiting for us, right now.”
“Yes!”
shouts the little girl thrusting her fist into the air.
Joseph
looks around the car and reads through the same old advertisements
placed randomly alongside the walls. Some read, Get
your free massage from Emory,
while others ask, are
you tested?
Of course, there’s the common map of the transit line showing the
different stations and transit lines in varieties of colors; however,
tonight was different and his eyes randomly came across the sign at
the very top of the car. It reads: This car’s number is 187.
It
was a very strange and odd feeling that stirred up his feelings from
out of nowhere. Questions begin to pop into his head - How many times
had he actually realized that sign or just took the time out to even
care to read it? To Joseph it was just probably one of those rare
moments in life when you tend to overthink a simple fact or
observation.
The
train pulls into Art Center Station. The doors of the car slide open
once again, and four new members walk on board. The alarm that
signals, the doors are now closing sounds off and the doors close.
The transit picks up some speed as it hurls out of the station to the
next.
Joseph
allows his body to rock with the momentum of the train. Turning his
attention to his own reflection in the darkened window, he instantly
notices something unusual with his eyes. A faint light glows deep in
his eyes and is gradually growing brighter. He turns his head away
from the reflection and looks back at himself. The glowing light is
gone, and Joseph blinks his eyes a couple of times to make sure he is
not hallucinating.
“Damn,
I really must be tired,” he said brushing his hair and yawning.
The
lights suddenly flash off and the car hits something extremely hard,
as if it hit a huge underground speed bump. Screams and shouts are
heard throughout the pitch darkness of the car sitting in the tunnel.
The lights flash back on, as quickly as they had shut off. The
train comes to a complete stop.
Joseph
crawls from under the seat, which he was forced under from the
collision. He stands to his feet and checks to see if he is not
injured badly. Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing to serious he
cannot handle. He scans the area for the other civilians on the car.
“Jenny,”
says the father. “Jenny!”
The
Japanese father drops to his knees and begins searching frantically
for his daughter.
“JENNY!”
“Sir,
calm down,” said a white male in a tailored business suit, now
dusty from the crash.
“Don’t
tell me to calm down, where is my daughter dammit?” shouted the
father to the business man. “JENNY!”
The
father continues to cry out to his daughter, while Joseph focuses his
attention to the young woman at the station trying to help the
teenage girl to her feet. He offers a helping hand to the two.
“Are
you okay?” said Joseph, lightly patting the dust off her shoulders.
“I
think so…thanks,” she said pushing away from them and pulling her
hoodie back over her head.
Joseph
takes no negativity to the gesture.
“JENNY!”
“Sir,
please!” cries the business man.
“JENNY!”
“Calm
down!”
“JEN-“
A
tall, black male wearing a red bandana and a thick gold chain knocks
the father out with one punch to the jaw.
“Dammit!”
screams the black male.
“Whoa,
whoa!” shouts Joseph. “What the hell, man?”
“Someone
had to do it,” claimed the black male.
Joseph
crouches down and checks on the knocked out father.
“Got
him pretty good,” Joseph says slightly relieved.
“I’m
glad he did that…he was freaking me the hell out,” says a young
business woman, fixing her glasses on her face.
“Has
anyone seen the man’s daughter?” said the Mexican construction
worker.
They
all respond with no’s and head shakes. Joseph continues to scan
the area for others. He discovers an older woman sitting by herself
towards the adjacent side of the car. She sits grasping her cane,
and seems to be not phased about the current situation. It is as if
she reads Joseph’s mind, when she answers him before the words, are
you okay, could
even exit his mouth.
“I’m
fine, young man, no need to worry,” she said waving her hand in the
air.
“Okay…”
said Joseph. “You, what’s your name?”
“Ralph,”
answers the Mexican construction worker.
“Ralph,
could you please, go and check on everyone else down there?” Joseph
asks him.
“No
problem,” said Ralph rushing to the other end of the car.
“Wait
a minute, bruh,” said the black male staring down Joseph. “You’re
in charge now or something?”
“No,”
said Joseph rising to his feet to face the thug. “I’m just trying
to make sure everyone is okay. Is that a problem?”
“Whatever,
bruh, just don’t get things twisted here,” said the black male,
mugging everyone, and he walks away.
Crouching
back down, Joseph asks the young business woman for a favor. “Could
you please keep an eye on him?”
The
young business woman nods in agreement.
“Where
do you think the little girl is?” a familiar voice questions
Joseph’s ear.
Joseph
turns around and once again, the young woman from the station stares
back at him with her beautiful hazel eyes, filled with worry and
confusion.
“I’m
not sure what the hell is going on here,” said Joseph. “Something
just seems off… just help out others if you can, alright?”
“Okay,”
mumbled the young woman. “I’m Gloria.”
“Joseph.”
Gloria
sits down and begins to tend to the knocked out father with the young
business woman. Joseph begins to walk way when Gloria grabs his
attention.
“Joseph?”
said Gloria in a soft tone.
“Yeah?”
said Joseph turning back towards her.
“I
think you nose is bleeding,” she said pointing to her own nose to
show him exactly where to clean up.
Joseph
wipes his nose with the back of his band and sees the blood. He
takes the bottom of his shirt and wipes the remaining blood off of
his face.
“Thanks.”
Joseph
checks his cell phone and it has no signal, not uncommon being stuck
underground. He quickly stares back at his phone at something
showing across the home screen, and becomes very puzzled and a sense
of urgency fills his veins. The strange and odd feeling returns
stronger and rushes throughout his body. His head begins to pound,
but he knows he has to remain calm because he does not want to stir
everyone up. He would have to get total control of everyone before
he could even think of the next possible step to take. It is at this
point, where Joseph knew something was unusual and that things were
about to unfold. He just did not know how it would reveal itself. It
was something he could not quite explain, but his cell phone’s time
read: 2:40 a.m.
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