Secrets Left Neglected

Chapter 64

Tadhg

When the train lurches forward my head nods too far to my chin and the momentum of the backward swing of my neck jerks me awake. I snort and come to. I look at the people around me in confusion.

Where am I?

How did I get on this train?

I look down at my right hand and find a punched ticket clenched in my fist. I open my palm and yawning, looking at it curiously. "Where did you come from?" I ask it in my head.

I can just make out some words. Zone One, Connecting, Off-peak hours. I frown. Not much to go on. The train sways in its tracks and I look outside the windows. Rail lines and the back of utility buildings are wizzing by. I wonder absently how long I've been riding this train.

I look around and then discretely smell myself. I sniff but don't smell anything bad. I must have showered recently. I can still smell Caoilainn's shampoo on my skin.

I smile.

It felt so good to lay in her arms last night.

Was it last night?

And those kisses. I close my eyes in memory. I had missed holding her.

Thinking about our night together, I drift off, and when I open my eyes again, I notice that the lights outside are on. It's dark and raining.

I look up at the seat in front of me and see a ticket sitting on the corner of the metal tab. I must have put it there sometime after the conductor punched it because it's been stamped.

How did I get on this train?

I remember last night and then I smile.

Oh wait, Jenny's uncle. That's why I'm on this train. I'm going to see him.

I remember now. I'm on my way to Jenny's Uncle Artair's house. He doesn't know I'm coming, but I'm sure he can help me. He helped her.

I frown.

Maybe I should have called first. I hope he's home. I scratch my head. Did I leave Caoilainn a note when I left?

I can't remember.

I don't think I did.

Maybe I whispered it to her while she was sleeping.

Yeah. That's it. I'm sure I must have.

I frown again.

Now, where did Jenny say her Uncle lives? I roll my eyes and look around. Darn. I can't remember. I close my eyes and try to think about it some more.

When I open my eyes again, there's a boy with purple spiked hair looking at me funny. "What's up?" I ask him.

"Nothin' man, just wondering if you got any smokes?"

"No," I reply. "I don't. I'm just on my way to-"

I don't finish my sentence, though.

Or, at least I don't think I do.

Later, when the doctor shines a white light in my eyes, and the policeman asks me what my assailant looked like, all I can reply to them is "Purple spikes. He had purple-spiked hair."

I can't even remember my own name at first. I guess the guy knocked my broken head around. Great. Just what I need. Embarrassed over this stupid brain of mine, I give them a fake name. They're not going to do anything for me, so what difference does it make what name I give them? The police don't even think they can find the guy who robbed me, let alone press charges against him based on such little details. They file a routine report on my behalf before leaving me to the ER doctor's care.

Since I'm only slightly banged up, and pretty aggravated and annoyed to boot, the doctors don't keep me in the hospital for the night. They let me out against medical advice. As I exit the Emergency Room through their ambulance bay, I slip my torn jacket over my shoulders and leave. The doctor gave me the name of a shelter I can go to for the night since I can't remember where I live or what Caoilainn's phone number is. Not that it matters. I don't have my cell phone on me.

I rub my tired eyes and walk two blocks to the center. They give me a bowl of soup, some bread, a warm blanket and cot for the night. I tell myself that I'll start again tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I'll get where I am going.

I remind myself to remember where I plan to go tomorrow. Right now, however, I need some shut-eye. I should've brought my pen and journal with me to help me keep track but I forgot it.