by Guy Harrison
***
Turning a corner, we pass Holmesburg Prison and then Pennypack Trail and Creek. My heart jumps at the sight of the brook. If I’m somehow found and arrested here, it would punch my ticket on the list of Philadelphia’s all-time dumbest criminals.
I glance at the skin on my arm. Still fair.
I feel bad for ditching Agent Darling but I would have been restless without at least attempting to confront Ronni. I really must have pissed her off. She never ignores my calls.
She pulls into a small parking lot overlooked by the Holmesburg Junction train station. Regional rail—a more far-reaching mode of transportation than the EL—services this station. The eastbound train takes you to New Jersey. The westbound train takes you into Center City.
Joe drives us into the lot and parks a few spaces down from and one row behind Ronni. He has parked facing the street. Ronni’s Civic faces the station. Joe turns to look at me as I look through the cab’s rear window.
“What are you going do?” he says.
I hand the driver some cash. I’ve had flights cheaper than this cab fare.
Ronni gets out of the car, her head covered by the hood on her sweatshirt. She walks up the concrete stairs leading to the station, bypasses the ticket machines, and eventually anchors herself to the westbound platform. In the distance, an oncoming train rolls down the westbound track.
I open the door and climb out of the cab. “Thanks.”
“Good l—” I hear the driver say before I close the door.
I race up the stairs to the platform as the train coasts into the station. Once I reach the platform, Ronni boards the train. I jog onto the same car, using a different access point.
From an alcove dividing the car into two sections, I look into the forward section but find no sign of Ronni. I take a seat just past the alcove, sitting next to the aisle in hopes of catching a glimpse of her.
A conductor enters the car, surveying its passengers. “Tacony, next!”
A slight breeze from the alcove—now behind me—wafts through the car as the train lurches forward. Outside, Northeast Philly’s tree-and-concrete landscape hovers past the train. With the storm off to the suburbs, the sun shines through the car’s windows as twilight envelopes the city.
Where is Ronni going and why would she take the train? Despite the high-price of parking in Center City, Ronni prefers driving to work. She was always afraid of the crackheads that sometimes utilize the city’s transit system. A public transportation girl she is not.
When the conductor reappears, I extract a few bills from my pocket. Regardless of how far Ronni intends to go, this ride will be much cheaper than the one in the cab. I’ll pay for the end of the line, ensuring I’ll go as far as she does.
The conductor punches the tickets of the passengers in front of me with a cool confidence. I’ve always wondered if the conductors actually have a method as to where and how they’re supposed to punch tickets.
Wearing a navy blue jacket and police officer-like cap, the conductor approaches me with a smile. “Where’re you headed today, sir?”
“The end of the line,” I say, handing the man my money. Shit. That was Calvin’s voice. My tight jeans and Converses have been replaced by sweats and Nikes.
Who’s the Agent of Justice, this time?
“You ride this train often?” the conductor says.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. You look familiar to me, though.”
“Weird,” I say, looking frontwards to only give him a view of my profile.
“Hmm.”
“Actually,” I say, “I think the next stop is mine.”
“You sure?”
“Tacony, right? Definitely my stop.”
He shrugs and chortles. “That’s one short trip.” He stops short of punching a ticket before giving me all my money back. “It’s on the house.”
“Thank you, sir.” I place the money back in my pocket.
I wait for the conductor to pass me before standing up. I turn back toward the alcove, only to find four people standing there, waiting to get off at the next stop. Eight eyes staring at me are far too many at this point. I turn and walk toward the front of the car where nobody’s waiting to disembark.
Peeking at the people sitting in their seats, I hold on to the small glimmer of hope that I might get to catch one last glimpse of Ronni—although, I’m not sure what I would do if I did see her. A young couple entertains their little daughter. A businessman reads a book. Another young lady jams out on her iPod. Everyone looks so happy … and normal; two states of being that I’m no longer familiar with.
I would love to convince Ronni to go into exile with me but there won’t be an exile if I stay on this train any longer. The risk outweighs the reward, however desirable.
Before reaching the last row of seats near the car’s fore entry, the train begins to slow down. I look to my right and see the back of a light blue cap—dark hair flowing out of it—just like the one at Lincoln High and under the EL. I can either ignore this person or I can get a good look at them. Either way, I can’t dawdle. I need to get off the train and call another cab.
I decide to keep walking toward the fore alcove, only taking a peek at the girl through the corner of my eye. Suddenly, my stomach drops and my legs grow weak. I turn to get a better look at the Agent of Justice. It’s Ronni, her beautiful face obstructed by the cap.
Her eyes widen as they meet mine. “What are you doing here?” she says, lowering her head.
There’s so much I want to say but I can only focus on the current situation. “I was coming to see you.” I can feel the eyes of some of the car’s other passengers locked on us.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I don’t give a shit about that,” I say, lowering my voice, waving all of the onlookers off.
“You don’t understand. You need to get off this train.”
With the train at rest, I look through Ronni’s window and see Tacony’s platform, beckoning me to follow Ronni’s command. My mind tells me to get off the train—there’s no chance of her coming with me now—but my heart has other ideas. New passengers brush past me on the way down the aisle.
I sit down next to Ronni. “It was you?”
She slowly turns her head toward the window.
“Why?”
No response.
The conductor barges in. “Bridesburg! Bridesburg’s next.”
I look outside. It’s the first time I notice the train moving since I sat down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ronni stops looking through the window but continues to ignore me. Her lips begin to quiver as she looks straight ahead.
I grab her and turn her toward me. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?” I say through clenched teeth.
“I tried,” she says, her moistening eyes peering into mine.
Finding it difficult to breathe, I let her go and lean back in my seat.
“Calvin, you have to get off this train.”
“No. I need you to tell me everything.”
“Please, just do what I say,” she says, speaking to the wall in front of us.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Please.”
“How long did you know?”
“Calvin ...”
“How long did you—”
“You stayed on,” says the conductor. I never saw him enter the car.
Ronni turns back to the window. The train slows down once again.
“End of the line,” I say, handing him the money in my pocket.
He punches a ticket and hands it to me before taking a peek at Ronni. Before he moves on, the conductor flashes me a wink and a smile.
“I never wanted any of this to happen to you,” she says, her tears now on the precipice of falling. “I wanted to tell you … but you were so damn distant.”
“Ronni, I love you.”
She shakes her head.
I lean closer to her. “I was so stupid. We sh
ould have always been together.”
Ronni covers her face with her hands. Her body starts to shudder.
“You were the only one who’s ever loved me,” I say
The train rolls to a stop at Bridesburg Station. The platform is empty.
“Go,” she finally says through her hands. “Please.”
“I can’t. Not without you.”
Ronni shakes her head again, her hands catching her tears.
Unsure of what to say, I look at the rest of the car behind us. The other passengers are minding their own collective business. I look out at the beckoning platform. Empty. Next to me, Ronni sits as her body trembles, her emotions spilling into her hands. I want nothing more than to hold her and take her away—even if I can never hide my true identity.
“Come with me.” I say, putting my arm around her as a lump forms in my throat.
Her emotions suddenly in check, she uncovers her face and angrily pulls away from my arm. “It’s too late. I made my choice.” Meanwhile, the train moves on, giving us a view of the area’s abandoned warehouses.
“What choice?”
“There’s a role to be played by all of us, Calvin.”
I back away from her and examine her flushed face. “Who told you that?”
Ronni takes a deep breath and stares at the wall in front of us. “You should have gotten off the train.”
“Why?”
“It’s not going to make it to the end of the line.”
The passengers gasp as the train suddenly accelerates to another gear.
“What the hell?” I look through the window. The city’s brick-and-concrete urban landscape zooms past the train in an endless blur.
“I can’t stop it,” Ronni says.
The conductor bursts into the car, a bead of sweat streaming down his ashen face. The passengers gasp—some shouting obscenities—as the train races through the next station.
“Please remain seated,” the conductor says, stomping down the aisle.
My gaze returns to Ronni. “Is this you? Are you doing this?”
She only responds with a glance.
“Why?”
Ronni looks straight ahead again, emotionless.
I turn to look at the rest of the car. The passengers grill the conductor, not unlike like the media that engulfed me outside the police station.
“Our operator’s dead,” the conductor says.
The passengers gasp, asking more questions.
“Can you stop it?” says one man.
“The door’s locked, I can’t get in.”
“What are we supposed to do?” a woman says in frazzled tone.
“Just remain calm,” says the conductor. “Everything will be okay.”
I turn back to Ronni. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Justice will be done,” she says in a tone so menacing, it could not have come from her. The train accelerates again, throwing everyone back in their seats.
“What are you doing? Stop the train.”
“I can’t, but you can stop me.”
“What?”
“I don’t deserve to live.”
“Stop, Ronni. This isn’t you,” I say, my voice catching.
She turns to look at me, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Kill me.”
“What?”
“Kill me. Please”
“Ronni, no.”
“Kill me!”
With her outburst, I’m thrust to the other side of the car where I hit an overhead storage rack and land face down on a row of seats. Ronni’s window shatters and the wall in front of her caves. Through the open window, the scream of the outside world is deafening, muting those of the passengers behind me. As the train accelerates again, another station whizzes by in the window.
Ronni winces and grabs her head, most likely feeling the effects of her telekinetic rift as she falls to the floor between our seats and the wall.
Next, the train’s interior lights flicker. Its wheels cry against the steel of the tracks.
I crawl over to Ronni and help her sit up against the wall. The gusts of air blowing through the window throw her hair across her drowsy face. “Stop the train!” I say above the chaos.
“Justice … will be done.” Her eyes are glazed over.
I bring her face to mine, meeting her lethargic gaze with mine. “They brainwashed you, Ronni. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I don’t?” The train accelerates again, throwing us against the base of the seats. We both crumble to the floor upon impact.
Lying face-to-face, I take Ronni’s hand in mine. “I love you,” I say, wiping my tears with my free hand. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
We both sit up again, this time holding on to the seats. The windows go black as the train moves underground.
“It’s too late,” she says.
The lights in the car go out and never return. Instead, the lights in the tunnel illuminate the interior of the car with a rhythm like that of Morse Code.
“Why?” I manage to say, barely able to breathe. “Why you?”
“I—I was the one who killed Jenny Cooper.”
“What?”
“I love you,” she says, closing her eyes as she squeezes my hand.
Suddenly, we’re launched forward and my forehead hits the wall. Ronni, however, braces herself with her shoulder. Simultaneously, I hear a loud crash, screaming from inside the train, and the shriek of metal against metal from outside the train. Lying face down on the floor, I look over at Ronni. Her eyes remain open. Mine struggle to do the same.
“Why?” I say, only managing a whisper before I fade into the darkness.
