Pain Cages

by Kane, Paul

  When her eyes swiveled left, he was still facing her direction. He gave another smile. Katherine laughed, a little nervously.

  “It can take ages to get served sometimes, can’t it?” said the man, despite the fact the queue was now moving pretty rapidly. His voice was strong, confident, as if he was used to addressing people.

  “Yes, it can.”

  “Are you traveling far?” he asked, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my––”

  “To the coast… for a holiday,” Katherine said.

  The man nodded. “I see.”

  “How about you?” She couldn’t believe she’d just asked that.

  “I’m going to a conference.”

  “Oh, really? That sounds exciting.”

  He laughed now. “Well, probably not, but it’ll make a change.”

  “A change from what?” Katherine probed further. “Listen to me. Look, you don’t have to answer that.”

  “I teach English. In college.” He added the last bit to show that he wasn’t just any old teacher. “Used to travel quite a bit, but I don’t get much chance these days. I’m sorry, talking away and forgetting my manners. My name’s Will. William Booth.” Will held out his hand and she shook it. Again, this lasted much longer than it should have, but neither of them seemed to mind.

  “Katherine… Kathy. With a ‘K’. Pleasure to meet you, Will.”

  “Pleasure’s mine, Kathy with a ‘K’.” As he released her left hand Will felt the ring on the fourth finger. He looked down. “Ah,” he said.

  “Ah,” mimicked Katherine.

  “Sir? Sir?” said a voice. It was Will’s turn to be served. He had trouble tearing his eyes away from Katherine to order, and even as he asked for the BLT sandwich and tea he kept glancing back at her. This time his eyes said something else; it was the same thing Katherine was thinking: What a shame.

  Will picked up his food and drink, then paid. As he walked past Katherine, he said, “See you, Kathy,” and smiled one last time.

  Katherine watched him walk back out through the sliding doors, stop, and look round one final time. Then he disappeared.

  It was a nice dream, she thought.

  And now she really did need that cigarette.

  Compatibility Match––Leo and Sagittarius: What a wonderful link-up! This couple has all the makings of a match made in heaven. This pair could have lots of wild and wonderful adventures together. For them, there are no limits. They have so much in common, especially when it comes to showing that they care, which these two would do at any given opportunity. And what’s more, they have the same kind of outlook on life––in essence it’s too short not to have a great time. Travel might be a particular pleasure for Leos and Sagittarians, in all its forms.

  She opened up her mouth and tried to see her tonsils through her pocket mirror.

  Ignoring the strange looks from the other passengers in her carriage, Mary Dowling gave a little “Arrgghhh” to see if the fleshy pendulums were inflamed at all. They weren’t. The soreness was in her imagination, she knew that really. Just another thing to add to the worry, the pressure. There was nothing whatsoever wrong with her throat, her voice, or anything else come to that. She shut her mouth and checked her make-up. Was she wearing a little too much blusher?

  No, no. You look fine, Mary. Better than fine. Think positive.

  Mary wished she could believe that. More than anything she wanted it all to come together on that stage when she did her number, whichever one she finally chose: the voice, the look, everything. And she was so worried it wouldn’t. She’d tried telling herself a million times that this wasn’t the be all and end all anyway. That there’d be other talent competitions, other opportunities. That all good things come to those who wait. It was just that bad things came to those who waited, too. And for some reason this shot felt like the only one she’d ever have in her life.

  Now how did the words to ‘Dancing Queen’ go again? Never mind the words, what was the tune?

  From her handbag came a faint electronic ditty that didn’t help in the slightest. Mary pulled out her mobile; it was a nice little black model hers, she’d done herself a really good discount on it at the store. The lime green display told her it was her dad calling.

  Mary pressed the receive button. “Hi Dad… No, I’m just on the train…” Never mind Dancing Queen, you’re turning into a Cliché Queen now, Mary. “I’m whispering because of my voice… That’s right… Yes, yes. I’ve left myself enough time… Bit nervous, y’know… No, I’ll be okay…” The miserable little boy sitting diagonally across from her with his father was peering down the aisle. Mary shrugged, as if to say ‘you know what parents are like’. The code seemed to go unread by the boy. “Yes, I know you do, Dad… Thank you… Yes, I love you, too. Take care, bye.” Mary pressed the button to hang up, then switched off the phone completely before she forgot about it. She didn’t want it ringing in the middle of her performance, her dad calling to ask how she’d done while she was in the middle of actually doing it. Or even one of her friends texting her to ask ‘u win?’ One less thing to worry about.

  Oh, but it was so sweet of her dad to care. His phone call had cheered her up a bit; there were times when all you really needed to do was talk to one of your parents. She just wished her mum could have been around to wish her luck as well. Maybe she was, somewhere.

  Now Mary was aware that she needed to pee. She hadn’t had time on the platform because she’d been zipping about, and had forgotten about it for a while, pushed to the back of her mind by all the other worries. But there really was an aching pressure pushing down on her bladder now. It wouldn’t be the first time today and would most definitely not be the last. It’d only get worse as her nerves increased, as all the worries piled up. It was no good, she had to go.

  The toilet behind her was in use, as was the one at the other end of the carriage: the red light signifying that people were inside, relieving themselves. The thought just made it worse for her and she wanted to go more badly than ever before. Mary crossed her legs, but that just heightened the problem.

  Why do people have to take so long? she thought, knowing she’d never been quick herself in public loos––particularly ones on board moving trains. What if I can’t hold it? Now that was something to worry about. Getting up in front of the judges after you’ve wet yourself. Not the best way to make a good impression.

  Mary uncrossed her legs and crossed them again the other way.

  Come on… hurry up, hurry up…

  No, it was no use. Mary got up and decided to go for a walk in search of the nearest empty loo. Somewhere a bit further down perhaps.

  She could also have another practice of her favorite songs, provided she could remember the lyrics, the tunes, and provided her voice was still all right. Maybe she’d check her tonsils again just to make doubly sure; there was bound to be a big mirror in the bathroom.

  Taurus and Health: Taurus rules the neck and throat, so this can be their Achilles heel sometimes. If they are feeling particularly stressed out or run down, problems can occur with this part of the body. Perhaps they might lose their voice or even develop a stiff neck through tension. It is advisable, therefore, that Taureans keep a close eye on this in order to prevent difficulties arising in the first place. Prevention is, after all, better than the cure.

  Oliver Collins finished cleaning his glasses with the cloth and put it back in his case, in the special compartment he’d fitted on the inside. A place for everything and everything in its place––that was his motto. Well, it wasn’t actually his, someone else had come up with the dictum. But it was an exceptionally fine one and Oliver didn’t think the originator would mind too much if he borrowed it from time to time.

  Placing the glasses back on his nose, he looked out at the track; the scenery––trees, hedges, fields––passing by on either side. It gave him an incredible thrill to know that he pressed the buttons and turned the dials, monitored the readouts that
propelled this great piece of machinery towards its destination. You could keep your cars, bikes and busses. This was the only way forward in Oliver’s opinion.

  He’d always loved trains. It probably stemmed from when his brother had been given that Hornby set for Christmas one year. George Collins hadn’t permitted his younger sibling to touch the toys, hadn’t even allowed him go near them for months, but Oliver had found ways to watch as his brother played. He spent many a good hour peering into his brother’s bedroom through the crack in the door, wishing he could be the one to send those tiny trains around the track. Eventually, of course, George had grown out of it, but by that time Oliver too had ‘come of age’, and his parents had got rid of the set altogether. Oliver wanted to keep it so much, wanted to have just one go on it, to blow the whistle, to make the steam rise from those funnels. But he had been denied.

  And now here he was, driving the real thing––the biggest train set money could buy. In more light-hearted moments Oliver imagined some great hand above the clouds tinkering with the control box to whizz his train along the tracks. That would make him titter to himself sometimes: God’s own Hornby kit, he’d joke, with everything in its proper place.

  Oliver couldn’t believe he’d been so lucky to fulfill his childhood ambition. When most lads in the playground had been imaging themselves as spacemen or cowboys or detectives when they grew up, for Oliver it had always been a train driver. He’d applied for various positions as soon as he’d been old enough, anything at first just to get a foot in the door. And over the years he had worked his way up to this enviable position. He’d seen some changes in his time, that was true. New technology he’d had to keep up with––a far cry from one lever to go, one to stop. This had meant studying hard so he didn’t get left behind by some of the upstarts snapping at his heels in the world of modern trainfare… that was one of his little puns. But he’d pushed himself, made sure he was up to speed. He’d seen the industry torn apart by privatization too; companies splitting up and doing their own thing instead of one big happy family. He really missed the old days when everything was under one umbrella. In its place. But you couldn’t live in the past, no one could. You could only live in the present and the future.

  And what exciting things that held for rail enterprises he could only guess. There was talk of monorails, of slanting trains like those in other countries that tipped on their sides to go faster. Now that would be quite something. Imagine driving one of those! Oliver scratched his head through thinning hair. Would he be around to see such changes? he wondered. He hoped so. He kept himself fit enough with a daily workout regimen, took vitamin and cod liver oil capsules. For the time being though, he’d content himself with driving this lovely lady, whom he’d christened Joyce. They’d all been called Joyce; every single train he’d ever driven. It was the name of the only woman he’d ever loved, now his brother’s wife. A woman he’d worshipped from afar for so long but had never had the courage to approach.

  Never mind. His Joyces had been adequate substitute wives, with this one his particular pride and joy. Oliver patted the panel in front of him, felt the vibration of the train.

  He smiled and sat back in his seat. “Purring like a pussy cat, aren’t you, my sweet?” She should be. He’d checked all the systems himself personally before they left the departure station that morning, just like always. It all ran like clockwork if he had anything to do with it, a place for everything; everything in its place.

  Virgo (represented by the virgin): Virgo people are incredibly methodical and practical, being the second of the Earth signs. They gain great satisfaction in seeing a job done right, and will come down very hard on themselves if they feel they’ve let the side down. It’s true they are sticklers, which is not necessarily a bad thing at work, but can drive close ones to distraction. They have a tendency to criticize others because of their impossibly high standards, and often these are extremely difficult to live up to. They can, however, be a tower of strength when trouble strikes. They do have difficulty dealing with their emotional sides, believing this might make them exposed. Consequently they will keep certain special people in the dark, and this can lead to all kinds of confusions and misapprehensions. Your typical Virgo can’t help giving out these cold signals. They don’t even realize they’re doing it sometimes. It might just be that they’re preoccupied with work and forget that those around them have feelings that can be hurt. They are more comfortable around, and will get on better with, people who they can understand and who can understand them.

  Fraser Pryce was looking at his father across the table and frowning.

  He was always getting told off for doing that, at home, at school. Why couldn’t he lighten up, why did he have to look so miserable all the time?

  “He’s such a serious child,” one of the teachers had told his mum and dad at parents’ evening. Katherine and Edward Pryce had both agreed, “Yes, he is.” At eight years of age, Fraser was supposed to be having the time of his life: causing mayhem, laughing and joking, out playing with the other children. Instead he read books in his room and watched the news and documentaries about global warming on TV. In his short stay on this planet Fraser Pryce had done a lot of observing, had come to a lot of conclusions about humanity as a ‘civilization’.

  He saw people buzzing around when he went out shopping with his mum. Hurrying to get somewhere, anywhere, and half of them had no idea where. Pushing and banging into each other, standing impatiently at check-outs and looking at their watches. Ignoring beggars and charity workers on the street, then spending their money on DVDs or compact discs they’d only watch or listen to once then forget about. Or filling their faces with junk food that they knew was slowly killing them.

  Once he and his mum had passed two men arguing about a parking space. The first man had tried to back in while the second headed into the space forwards. The pair had collided. Fraser watched them getting redder and redder in the face, so red he thought he might see steam coming out of their ears. The men came to blows eventually and Katherine had dragged Fraser away from the scene, trying to shield him from the violence. Why do parents always try to do that? he thought as he was being pulled along by his arm. The sooner and younger kids came to terms with how the world was, facing up to the reality of life, the better. What was the use of sugar coating things, painting everything to be some candy toy-filled heaven, only to be hit smack bang with the truth later on?

  Fraser knew all about wars, poverty, hunger. Knew about weapons of mass––and not-so mass––destruction, about the third world and about diseases that could wipe out the entire population of the world if they were ever to escape from the secret laboratories that housed them. One of his few friends at school, Marshall, was always boasting about the horror movies he’d seen at the weekend when he went to stay with his grandparents. They let him stop up and watch all the gorefests. But Fraser had never seen the attraction himself. There were more horrific things if you just looked around you, more things to scare you than a man with razorblades for fingers or an alien creature that could suck out your brains.

  Even at home, there were things that frightened Fraser. Especially at home. The way his mum and dad were with each other sometimes. The way they’d argue about nothing, about who was supposed to have paid the poll tax or whose turn it was to feed the cat. His dad would always go quiet in the hopes of calming everything down, or maybe winning the argument by sulking. It never worked and inevitably he’d crack before Fraser’s mum did. And the way she often looked at his dad, like there was something missing. For a long time he’d thought they loved each other, and though it was clear his dad did love his mum, Fraser knew that it wasn’t mutual. If there was no room for love at home, if the two people who’d made him couldn’t get on with each other, what chance did the rest of humanity stand? Fraser had come to the conclusion that they stood none.

  Was there any wonder he was so depressed?

  His dad forced a smile. “Come on, Fraser, cheer up. W
on’t be too long before we get there. Then you’ll be able to see the sea.”

  Fraser looked across at his father and frowned. A man sitting at the other end of the carriage got up. He looked a bit like that famous actor who’d been in all the films––the one with the spiky hair all the girls went mad for in his class. Tom something or other. Fraser frowned at him as well.

  The man frowned back, tried to smile, then frowned again. As if something inside had suddenly stopped him. As if something or someone was telling him what to do.

  Taken from The Daily Record

  Capricorn: Buck up your ideas and you might find you have a different perspective on life. It’s all very well moping around but nobody will want to know you if you do. Lately it feels as if you’ve had the weight of the world on your shoulders, I know, and this situation won’t improve immediately. In fact it might even get worse. One thing is for certain, though, if you don’t change your outlook things never will. Reach out, Capricorn. Change has to come from within.

  Belinda Gould was still working her way along the train when the young man bumped into her.

  “Easy, babe. What’s your rush?” she said.

  He apologized politely, showing a thin line of teeth. The youth was quite handsome with his spiky hair, blue eyes. If she’d been a few years younger––ten… okay, maybe twenty––and still in her modeling heyday…

  “That’s all right. Do you have your ticket?” she said to him. Her nervously pulled it out and showed it to her.

  “Thank you.” Belinda handed the ticket back and he apologized again. He carried on up the carriage.