Wishing

          She stepped onto the platform, impatiently waiting for the train to arrive. She leaned over the edge looking down onto the black tracks, cemented with rust and grime. She turned her head to see if it was coming. It wasn’t. She exhaled deeply, annoyed. She fidgeted with her purse, adjusting the strap digging into her shoulder. She tapped the toe of her wooden platform shoe against the cement, checking her watch periodically. The face was small and round with black hands ticking. After looking for the third time, she let her wrist fall to her side and when she followed it down she saw a small blue ball roll past her. She looked up and saw a boy run after it and grab it before it fell off the side of the platform. He turned around with the ball in hand, a huge grin forming on his face.

            “Robert!” a voice from behind her called. A woman was running up the stairs and grasping at the railing catching her breath before stepping onto the platform. Her chestnut hair was windblown and fell all around her face.

“What did I say about getting that close to the edge?” she asked, panting.

The little boy was still smiling as he said, “But I got it! I didn’t let it drop!”

She walked over to him slowly still catching her breath. She smoothed the pale blue shift dress she was wearing, shaking out the skirt.

“That’s wonderful Bobby,” she said putting both her hands on her lower back for more support, “but next time, just let it go, if only to save your mother from having a heart attack after chasing you.”

“But I knew I could get it. Dad got me my ball.”

“I know he did, Bobby,” she said looking around the platform, “and he would have gotten you another one if you lost it.”

“But I like this one…” his voice trailing off as he held the ball tightly in his hands. She watched him look up and see that same grin appear. “Dad!” he said as a man carrying a little girl on his shoulders appeared climbing the last of the stairs. “I got it!” he yelled. The man walked over to them smiling.

He took the little girl from his shoulders and set her down next to her mother. She wore a dress similar to her mother’s but it was pale yellow with white daisies trimmed with lace. Her light brown hair hung right above her shoulders, some of it pulled away from her face, secured by a white ribbon, it’s bowed loops lying flat on the back of her head. Her mother smiled down at her as she reached for her hand.

“I’m sure your mother was thrilled,” he said smiling as he wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist, his other hand holding a black briefcase, the leather wearing.

She made eye contact with the mother who looked back at her, shrugging, shaking her head and smiling. She was trying to convey a sense of mutual understanding; woman to woman, mother to mother, but watching them interact only reminded her that she was waiting on that platform alone. She forced a small, polite smile and turned around in time to see the train approaching. When it came to a halt she walked quickly to the doors, getting too close, startling her when they opened inches from her face. She walked into the train car and sat down in the back in a corner seat. She placed her purse on her lap, the black strap hanging over her knees. She flattened her shirt and pushed her glasses higher up on her nose. She watched as the same family walked into the same train car and sat down together, one child on each parent’s lap, the little girl with her mother and boy with his father.

“Put that ball in your pocket,” she heard the father say to the boy, “the train can get bumpy buddy and you’ll lose it again.”

The boy didn’t put up a fight or make a peep in protest and did what he was told, slipping the blue ball into the pocket of his flared jeans. His father tousled his hair with his hand and the boy leaned into his father’s chest looking out the window. She watched the mother run her fingers through the little girl’s hair who sat on her lap sucking her thumb.

“Kelly, what animal are you most excited about seeing today?” her father asked her.

“The bunnies,” she said only taking her thumb out of her mouth to answer.

“Out of all the animals they have,” he said grinning, “you want to see the bunnies?”

The little girl shook her head and her mother kissed her on the head.

“Well, I want to see the anteater!” Bobby said. “I heard he just got there.”

Their father smiled. “Bunnies and an anteater,” he said facing his wife, “these are our children,” he said nodding at both of them and she laughed resting her head on his shoulder.

She looked at her watch again, growing more impatient with each bump and screech of the train. She wondered how she got here; sitting alone on the train. No husband to lean on, no children to bows in their hair or chase after. She looked back at the family in front of the train. The little girl had fallen asleep on her mother’s lap; the mother and father were talking quietly as the little boy held onto his father’s briefcase, guarding it carefully. Light flooded the train car as they came above ground and approached the Fullerton stop. The mother gently shook the little girl awake and she sat up looking around, rubbing her eyes.

“This is our stop, sweetie,” her mother said, “Give your father a kiss.”

The little girl leaned over and kissed her father on the cheek grabbing his neck to hold her up. When the train came to a complete stop she stood with her two children. The little boy put the briefcase on his father’s lap and high fived him when he lifted his hand in front of his face.

“See you later, Dad!” he called out before running to the train doors, his sister following behind.

Before the doors opened the mother leaned down to her husband and kissed him on the forehead.

“Have a good day,” she said as her fingers gently grazed his left temple where his hair was all gray.

He reached for her hand before she pulled away and kissed her palm. She smiled and he squeezed her hand as the door opened. She playfully nudged them apart and extended her hands, one for each child to grab. They started to walk down the platform as the doors closed and the train started to slowly move. As the train passed them up she watched the father make a goofy face out the window making the boy laugh and all three waved to him. He sat back in his seat, shaking his head, smiling. He saw her looking at him and she looked away quickly realizing just how long she had been staring. Out of the corner of her eye she could see he was still looking at her so she glanced back at him.

“Do you have kids?” he asked as he nodded to the window they appeared in just moments before.

“No,” she said looking back at her watch.

He nodded like he understood as the train started to slow again. He stood up, holding his briefcase in his left hand and said, “Get some,” and walked off the train, smiling.