I pat my pockets and extract my phone.
It reads 9:00.
“Ok” I think to myself. “Two hours. That should be more than enough time.”
The overhead bell rings as the metro arrives in Tiyu Xilu station. The doors open and people flood out. Some push me to advance but there is nowhere to go. It is always best to wait for when it is easiest to act.
I enter and the alert beeps another time. The last people trickle in while others try to enter and exit in a last attempt to use the cross-platform shortcut.
The carriage begins to move and I am on my way.
9:02
The train screams along the rails and then comes to a stop. I slide across the seats and bump into the elderly woman sitting beside me. The intercom crackles to life and a young man begins to talk over the loudspeaker. “Attention: The train has come to a momentary stop and should continue shortly. Thank you and have a nice day.”
The man cuts out and is followed up by the voice of a young woman. Her words are incoherent but I can tell she is beautiful by the way she forms her words. Her tone is delicate while her cadence is measured.
The reassurances of the automated messages do nothing to calm my nerves.
9:05
Only a few minutes have elapsed. I take deep breaths and close my eyes. “Not tonight. Any night but tonight, work, please just start.”
I feel my body slide away from the aging woman as the train accelerates en-route to its next location.
9:10
The train pushes forward then grinds to a halt. The door beeps, people walk out, less walk in. The train is slowly emptying as we head towards the end of the line. With each stop I gain more breathing room. Every time the doors open and close there are less people to stare at this crazy, “waiguo”, who is tapping his feet and rolling his fingers against his knee.
The old lady keeps glancing at me. What is she thinking? What does she want?
9:23
“Hello” I hear the word but ignore it.
“Hello”, probably the only word they know.
Someone taps my shoulder and there is another “Hello!” I look to my right.
“Hello”, she says again. She waves her hand clinking the yellow and pink beads on it together.
“Hello.” I mumble.
“Where are you from?” Her voice is unperturbed by my apparent lack of attention.
“I’m from America.”
“Oh, Meiguo.” She gives me a cute yet controlled smile.
“Are you from guangzhou?” I ask her, more out of courtesy than interest.
“No Xi’an”. She says this while adjusting her thick black lensless glasses.
“Oh, cool”.
I look back at my phone.
9:26
“Fowers”, she says, her thick accent making her words difficult to recognize.
“What?” I respond.
“Fowers, they what?”she tries again but I am still confused.
“Fowers” She says once more but this time with her hand pointing to the six red roses in my hand. “Who are…” her voice trails off.
“Oh, who are the flowers for?” I try to clarify.
“Due, due” She says as she nods her head.
“They are for a friend”
The girl immediately blushes and she puts both of her hands in her lap, “Girlfriend?”
“Umm.. It’s hard to say.”
Confused but given a new sense of purpose the girl continues to press further with her simple phrases, “Girlfriend!”
“No she’s not she…”
The overhead bell chimes and the girl shuffles out. She gives me one last glance before she exits the cabin.
9:26
People file in and the benches fill up with bags and suitcases. Everyone is headed for the same place with diverging destinations upon arrival.
10:15
The doors open and everyone sprints to the escalator just to stop and wait for it to slowly move us to the ground level. I dip in and out of couples but none will let me pass. I have to wait and let the metallic stairs slowly shepherd me upwards.
10:20
The moment I am free I rush to the help desk. Monitors are linked end to end displaying city names and flight numbers as they scroll through the daily time tables.
I check my phone for that message. She sent it this morning, “I think I will arrive from Dubai around 11”. I check the time again.
10:22
“Ok” I think to myself as I scan through the arrival times. There is a plane arriving directly from Dubai at 11 but there is also a plane arriving from Chenming around 11.” Local or International, East or West concourse which is right? Which is the choice? I should have asked this morning but I didn’t want to tip her off.
10:25
There isn’t enough time to question my reason, it is time to guess. I turn my body and sprint towards the international arrivals. I burst past families and their walls of bags with my phone in my right hand and the bouquet in my left.
10:32
The screens continue to scroll but there is no Dubai listed on the monitor. Exhausted people stream out of the luggage claim and out to the taxi line but none of them are her.
10:42
I desperately text her, “Call me as soon as you land.”
10:55
There is no response. Someone slams their shoulder into me and I feel the flowers crunch between our bodies. Before I can say anything the person is gone and two of the flower heads have fallen to the floor.
11:25
She has not responded and I must have missed her. So much for a surprise, so much for letting her know. I sit on the curb outside and watch cars zip by against the light-stained foggy sky.
11:45
She will never know. The girl next to me is also waiting. She looks at her phone every 30 seconds but to no avail. As others exit, we sit and wait.
12:25
We are still here. All happiness has left her face and every few moments she stares at the bouquet of bad luck in my hand.
12:50
It’s time to go home. It’s best to admit defeat when it is no longer worth trying. I get up to leave and split my quantity. Three flowers for her one for me, to remember, just in case.
12:53
She smiles at the roses and whispers, “XieXie” I can barely hear her over the sound of yelling Chinese.
1:00
The engine rumbles as I climb in. I shut the door and we roll away, before I can check the time the cell-phone vibrates with an incoming call.
YOU ARE READING
6,4,3,1
Short StoryA man boards a train in order to speak the truth to someone who needs to hear it.
