Passenger Injury by Chris Coll
We roared around the curve at Union Square, the familiar screech of metal echoing in the operator’s cab. A figure appeared, pacing nervously. Suddenly, he darted forward towards the platform edge — a college age kid with striking blue eyes and a spiked brown Mohawk.
We locked eyes. Through trembling lips, he mouthed “I’m sorry” before disappearing off the platform.
“No!”, I screamed, slamming the brake. A violent bump reverberated through the car as the steel beast devoured its victim. The train finally came to a stop a third of the way down the platform.
I sat there, heart pounding, as the sweat began to soak my work shirt. I could hear people screaming on the platform but couldn’t process what they were saying. I realized that I was holding my breath and exhaled loudly. After a few more seconds, I collected myself enough to press the talk button on the radio.
“6-234 to Central. 12.9 on Northbound 6 track at Union Square.”
“Central to 6-234, confirm 12.9. Passenger Injury. Show PD and FD responding.”
The MTA investigators eventually came and talked to me while NYPD guided clueless passengers out the back of the train. A couple hours later, I was told that I was cleared of any negligence. “Just some nut job trying to use taxpayer dollars to solve his problem,” one cop said.
I often wonder why the kid apologized, though. For the mess? Delays? Or did he know I’d see those blue eyes every time I closed mine?
Chris Coll is a writer from the Bronx, New York. When not writing, he can found training in Kyokushin Karate and reading thriller novels. His short fiction and short nonfiction work can be found in the Wilderness House Literary Review.
Published work – via Chill Subs
Photo by Kyle Miller at Pexels
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Great capture. A moment in time that lives on and on.