by Ashley Lowe
The train station is dead. It’s a complete ghost town. I must not be the only person on the face of the planet that has forgotten that they exist. I can only see ten people around and six of them seem to be working here. Ali and I join the ranks of passengers-to-be. Nobody stands in the line in front of us.
“How far can we get with this?” Ali asks, handing the attendant six one hundred dollar bills.
The lady behind the register counts the money that was pushed under the window. “Where do you want to go?” she asks as she paints her fingernails a horrid hue of yellow. According to her name tag, her name is Michelle. Michelle sits and speaks like she hates her life. I can probably understand why. This place doesn’t seem to get much action.
“We need to get south of here. Or, west. Anywhere really,” Ali says. She looks at the map behind the counter and points towards the Sunshine State. “Is there any chance we can get to Florida with this?”
“Sure. City?” Michelle asks, blowing on her freshly enameled thumb nail. Neon yellow? Yes, I want to say that her nails are this terrible neon yellow. I can’t even accurately describe it. I would say it would be like putting neon lighting in a banana, but even that sounds prettier than this horrendous color. I wonder if they match her shoes or something.
I can’t help but observe everything around me. It’s a curse I tell you. No little detail ever goes unnoticed in my mind. Ali always laughs at for it. Most of the time, she’ll ask me what I’m thinking just to make me stop.
“Tampa,” Ali rushes. “We’d like to leave on the next train out if at all possible. We’re kind of in a hurry.”
“Fine. The next train out goes all the way to Orlando. There’s a few stops, but you’ll get there eventually,” Michelle says with an air of apathy, looking at Ali with a glare in her eye and an attitude on her tongue.
“What a bitch,” I think to myself. Then I regain my own composure to keep Ali from getting herself in trouble. That’s the last thing we need right now.
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll take those tickets. Thank you,” I say trying to get Ali to back off and calm down. She’s clenching her fists. This usually means she’s ready to go at it. I’m just hoping there will be no extra drama today. We don’t need any fights to deal with. I think we have enough on our plates as it is.
“Here ya go. Change,” Michelle pushes the tickets, cash and coins at me forcefully. What the hell? If I don’t get Ali to move from the stand soon, I might be the one to snap.
“Thanks,” I say with a hollow tone, pulling Ali away from the counter and over to the benches to wait for the train. Michelle closes up shop and slams the window shut behind us.
“What’re you doing, Val? Did you not hear the way she was talking to me?”
“Ali, listen,” I say sympathetically. Rude people really do tick me off, too. “We’ve had enough drama for a lifetime in the last twenty-four hours. Don’t you think we should lay low and keep everything cool?” Here I go, again. I’m playing the voice of reason despite my real feelings about the situation.
“I just can’t stand when people act like that. It pisses me off.” Ali slaps her knee in disgust. She continues clenching her fists and throwing her shoulders up into her neck. Oh, yeah. She’s turning into Ali Bear.
“I know, Ali. People, in general, always piss you off.” I can’t help but state the obvious. She’s never been good with her social graces. Proper social skills have always been her prime area of opportunity. I’m not sure how she’s dealt with me for so long.
“Damn straight,” she says with a silly smirk on her face, smoothing her hair behind her ears. I love that silly smile. “Val, about what you said in the cab…” she says, trailing off and not finishing what she has to say.
“What about what I said in the car?” I ask like an idiot. This was probably not the best response I could have thought up in the moment. She looks at me and narrows her eyes sharply. She knows that I know what she’s talking about. I’ve never been any good at fooling Ali. I’ve never been any good at fooling anyone for that matter.
“Never mind,” she says. Her voice sounds deflated. She touches my hand with her pinky. I take her hand in mine and we sit there in silence, looking in different directions, waiting for the train to arrive. After a few minutes, she pulls her hand away from mine and hugs her knees to her chest.
“What’s happening to us?” I ask myself in my thoughts. She stands up and runs to the women’s room behind us. It’s almost as if she can read my mind these days. I’m more confused than ever. I love Ali. She’s the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I have already kind of poured my heart out to her. I could have been more thorough, but what else can I do?
After a few seconds go by, I get to my tired feet and follow her path through the same rusty door. Ali is resting her hands on the bathroom sink, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She glances at me and stands straight and tall. “I’m a mess, Val.”
“You look great,” I say, reaching out to touch her shoulder for comfort.
“No, that’s not what I mean. In my head I’m a mess. What were we thinking?” she asks me, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. She removes herself from my touch in a sudden jerk.
“Everything is going to be perfect. Things just suck right now. Trust me, I know. But we’ll get through it like we’ve gotten through everything else before this.” I can’t be too sure right now, though. I feel like she’s drifting away from me. I don’t think she wants what we used to have. I miss what we used to have.
“I don’t know,” Ali says, looking down at the ground, kicking her shoes together. I want to tell her that I don’t know how things are going to be, either. I want to tell her it’s all going to be okay. I want to say so many things to her. This is not the Ali that I know. This is not the same strong and composed woman I fell in love with. This is the little school girl coming out of her. Unfortunately, I can’t help but think that her childish vulnerability is kind of cute.
“The train should be here any minute. Are you coming?” I ask as I walk in the direction of the door, knowing she won’t stay behind. There’s no way she would leave me after all of this, right? I mean, we’ve already used the money for the tickets. We just need to get on the damned train.
“Okay. Let’s go,” she says as she buries her hands deep in her pockets. Her blonde locks fall around her face as she pulls her head up to walk forward. “Orlando, here we come.” She puts on a face of false sureness. Her body language is giving all of her secrets up.
As I’m pushing the door open, I see a familiar face walk by. Quietly letting the door fall back in place, I force Ali to the side and into a stall.
CHAPTER 11
Rolling Down the Tracks
