A Fearful Faith

One

The man in the grey coat tensed as the light rail let out a shriek. Before he could brace himself against the pole, the car shuddered, and the shrieking sounds only increased in volume. The entire car jumped off the track and crashed into the ground, the screams of the other passengers just breaking through the pain of being thrown into the front of the car. Glass broke, metal tore and twisted. Pain, death. Blood.

Jessamine let out a gasp, drawing the attention of the man in the grey coat and a few other passengers. She blinked and shook her head to clear it. The car was fine. The light rail was safe. It was ridiculous to think it would jump the track. She eyed the man in the grey coat. he clutched the pole so hard his knuckles turned white. His fear of a crash was so intense that Jessamine was surprised no one else could feel it. It unnerved her. She usually couldn’t tell what a person’s fears were, let alone had visions of them. The man’s fear was so blatant, so intense that it invaded her head. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. She moved a bit closer to the man, who stood in front of her, and let out a breath. She thought about peace, about safe, solid ground. Skin to skin contact was preferable, but under the circumstances out of the question. She didn’t like having the man’s visions in her head. It seemed very intrusive. LIke she was delving into his mind without permission. 

She normally wouldn’t calm a stranger without permission, but his fear was so acute she couldn’t help but want to help. She sent her peaceful thoughts towards the man. It was difficult with the swaying train and lack of physical contact, but it was enough to take the edge off his fear. He loosened his grip on the pole. The waves of fear and anxiety abated. He didn’t know what had calmed him, that she was sure of. She couldn’t see his face. She wanted to know if he was bewildered or grateful. Or both.

The light rail came to a smooth stop, and the man rushed off, briefcase in hand. Jessamine watched him go for a moment before remembering she had to get off the train too. She jumped off clutching her backpack to her chest, her long brown hair nearly getting caught in the doors. That would have definitely been embarrassing, she thought as she raced through the turnstile.

The car was waiting for her outside of the station. She hustled towards hit, nearly tripping over her heel. The chauffeur smiled at her. “Good afternoon, miss,” he said.

“Good afternoon, Charlie,” she replied. He nodded and opened the car door. She slid in, still holding her backpack.

“You’re late, Jessie.”

Her own smile faded as she looked up. The man sitting across from her stared at her in expectation. Daly always was a stickler for punctuality. “I’m sorry. The light rail was off schedule, and-”

Daly waved a hand, dismissing her explanation. Jessamine ducked her head. “I suppose that can’t be helped. Your mother told me this morning that you’re doing well at your job.”

Jessamine bit her lip and hazarded another glance at Daly. He was very thin, and his high cheekbones made him look almost gaunt. He was all sharp angles, though he wasn’t bad looking. His hair was cut in a slightly longer style than one would assume, and the dark strands fell into his eyes, giving him a perpetual brooding air.

“It’s going fine,” she said at last.

Daly gave her that scrutinizing glance, the one she could never quite figure out. Daly was impossible to read. She never sensed fear from him, which was frightening enough for her. Everyone had fears, even if she didn’t know the particulars.

“You don’t have to, you know. I told your father that you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. He said you insisted.”

“We’ve been over this, Daly,” Jessamine said. “You know why I’m working at Corsan’s.”