Thursday, September 23, 2010

Soon-to-be-Cops on the Train

The platform is full of police academy kids wearing clean gray uniforms. They carry identical duffel bags. Patches on their shoulders tell everybody what they are.

Inside the train they are in two packs, with each pack holding down the train-car's exits. Just like real cops. The pack closer to you consists of two guys, a blonde haired girl, and a very unflattering short girl; kicking around across the isle but still close enough. The little one looks at you with a kind of muffled suspicion. The boys muse over the blonde one. Trying to act casual. They talk about cases that they read about in the news or overheard at the academy. The guy on the left has blotchy skin, but is a far more skilled conversationalist then the guy on the right, who is always looking down and has thick eyebrows that some girls love and others hate. His face makes him look like he might grow up to be the occasional nice cop. The blonde is a pretty enough girl, with a nice enough body, but it's the hair that makes her stick. She has the hair of an angel. It's her strong-point and of that she is fully aware. She swiftly unties and flips it down, running her fingers through it, letting it soak up the fluorescent light. Eyebrows is mesmerized. He gulps. He does a weird hard blink and takes a step back. The other one, the conversationalist, isn't allowing himself the pleasure of watching her hair, he's waiting. Waiting for his next words, planning for what words she might use. Blondie throws her head back up, still using her fingers to comb. She flips and twists it into a little swoosh and checks her reflection in the dark window.

Eyebrows never looks away.

She sees his backwards face hanging stuck and is pleased.

All the while the short female cadet is just standing there, looking around and waiting for her turn to say something. It's never going to come and she's beginning to see that now. She looks familiar. Her face is soft and round. Her hair is dark and somewhat curly in that frazzled, un-angelic way. You might know her. She's getting sick of their babbling. Sick of watching moths bumping into the light bulb. Some of the others on the train are becoming irritated, having no interest in their stories or their enthusiasm, while others have them zoned out, along with everything else. They don't sleep, these others, their minds just float up and to the left. An internal clock tells them when their stop is coming up.

Riders are rushing on and off the train. A large black man is among the new passengers and Blondie is whisper shouting, "it's him, it's him", to Eyebrows, who doesn't get it. She thinks he's the principal from the television show Boston Public. It does look very much like him, but it's not, he's too young. His voice confirms this when he asks a female passenger across from him what year she graduated. The cadet who doesn't exist is fed up. She makes a noise and walks away from the pack, turning and planting herself onto the closest seat, which is still quite close to them. Eyebrows notices this, and seems to feel something, but the golden hair catches his attention and he realizes that he's lost vital seconds. Blondie still thinks that it's the guy from Boston Public and the resulting jabber forces the little pissed off cadet out of her seat along with another noise and this time she plants down even harder. The passengers are pleased that she made such a definite statement. This is how her life as a cop will be; oppression and fortification. She is going to be a good cop. Eyebrows is regretting not saying something to her. He will say something to her on Monday at the academy, but she will ignore him. That's it! You know her. You went to school with her. She lingers in your memory like someone you recognize from the background of a picture. She might know all about you. What's her name?

Outside the windows is a blur of piping and paint up close. Now the wall is gone; the tall lights make everything look like a zombie movie. An empty playground drifts along, the past and future site of something horrific. As Jamaica station approaches many of the passengers are shifting and gathering. Many are standing and approaching the not-quite-cops. The blonde is saying her goodbyes. The conversationalist hits his mark with a well-paced reply. Eyebrows says, "See you on Friday then", and Blondie says, "Monday" and waves as she steps away. "Oh, yeah Monday". An exiting old woman appears disturbed by one of the advertisements that faces away from you. A wall of people is rushing the boys. Eyebrows yells, "See you later" and then hopes that she didn't hear him. The little cadet rushes by them with her giant duffel bag. The people have finally stopped and Eyebrows looks a little dazed. He does the weird hard blink thing. He says, "Don't you want the express to Babylon?" pointing to another track. The conversationalist says, "I know that. What're you trying to get rid of me?" a bit standoffish. Eyebrows says, “No, I was just saying". They finally sit down across from each other and they think about Blondie for the rest of the trip, not speaking again. The far pack of cadets is gone now. The train is nearly empty and those that are left are mostly those up-and-to-the-left types. When the lights go out it looks like a teenager’s room. All of the emergency signs light up, like those sticky glow-in-the-dark stars. The mood softens and you are allowed a short break before returning to:

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