Summer
I’m going to miss my train! I’m going to miss my train! thought Summer as she scrambled down the steep escalator. There won’t be another until tomorrow… and that might be too late! She felt certain she would break down and cry if she didn’t make it onto that train.
Summer stepped off the escalator and onto the platform, lugging her overnight bag with her. She immediately spotted her train and, clenching her teeth, made a bee line for it. She started to push through the swarm of commuters who, like herself, were trying to get onto the train. For once, she did not care whether anyone thought she was rude.
I simply have to make it home in time!
The sound of footsteps, the continual ebb and flow of voices, the stuffy atmosphere, and the bombardment of anxious thoughts – it all made Summer’s head throb as she charged through the narrow gaps in the crowd. Before long, there was only a handful of people blocking her path to the train.
Slow-moving people.
“Doors closing. Please stand clear,” warned the automated voice.
Desperation overtook her. She shoved past a tall guy wearing hipster clothes, who was walking in front of her, and jumped onto the train. She clung to one of the yellow poles and rested her weary head against it. I made it. A sigh of relief escaped her lungs.
She was vaguely aware of the sound of other commuters jostling about to get into the train. The doors slid shut and the train started moving.
“Hey, you!” The voice sounded like its owner was close by… and very angry.
She looked up. The trendy young guy, whom she had shouldered out of the way, was standing beside her. She could see his serious frown in the midst of his neatly trimmed beard. His brown eyes were like lasers fixed upon her; it hurt Summer too much to meet his gaze.
“Who do you think you are, pushing people aside like that?” he demanded. “I nearly got my leg caught in the gap between the train and the platform.”
“I-I’m sorry,” she responded, looking down at her feet. “I just really needed to be on this train.”
“So did everyone else! But you thought that you had more right to be here than all those people waiting on the platform. I’ve never seen anyone so self-absorbed.”
She forced herself to meet his eye. “What would you do if you got a phone call from your sister, saying that your dad has had a heart attack and might not last the night?” she burst out. Tears filled her eyes.
He looked away. “I don’t know…” he said huskily. “I don’t know what I’d do. Look… I, um, I’m sorry for–”
“I would have said the same things as you did,” she said, attempting to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m Summer, by the way.”
His eyes eagerly studied her face. “Summer?” he repeated, surprise in his voice. “Summer Laird?”
She felt confused. “Yes, but how–”
He was smiling as though pleased with his discovery. “Do you remember the name ‘Patrick?'” he asked.
What? Her mouth dropped open. He can’t be Patrick; he looks so different. She tried to match his face with the mental picture she had of the young boy she had known, but his beard hid most of his distinguishing features. When she looked into his softened eyes, however, she was convinced it was him.
“How could I forget?” she replied. She could feel her face grow hot. But, she decided to joke her way through her embarrassment. “We were a ‘couple’ in Year 3,” she laughed, “which, in reality, meant that we were best friends, I guess.”
Patrick laughed, too. “Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed. He sobered again. “I’m really sorry to hear about your dad. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
She gulped. “Thanks.”
“Hey, I was thinking,” he began, glancing around the carriage, “maybe we could grab a seat and you can tell me what you’ve been doing since Year 3. If you want to, that is.”
“Sure, I’d love to,” she replied.
Patrick
Wow, it’s really busy here today, thought Patrick, scanning the crammed train station with interest. It never ceased to amaze him how so many people, who led completely separate lives, would all converge on the same platform to meet the same train. Teenagers clad in school uniforms, businessmen carrying newspapers, and tired-looking mothers pushing prams – all unique individuals and total strangers… yet all linked together because they were waiting for the one train.
I wonder what all their stories are and where they have come from.
The sound of a train approaching the station interrupted Patrick’s musings. An automated voice-over announced the destination of the train.
Yep, that’s mine. He made sure he had the strap of his laptop bag securely placed on his shoulder.
The train appeared, screeching as the brakes were applied. The current of air blew through his dark hair. Carriages and carriages sped past. Eventually, the train squealed to a halt. The doors opened and huge crowds of people poured out of each carriage. Just as one wave abated, another began.
Finally, the people waiting patiently on the platform were able to move onto the carriages. Patrick wasn’t in much of a hurry to get on the train, so he allowed a group of students to go ahead of him. He followed the crowd as it crawled toward the train. There was a young mother with two children to his left. He smiled and let them pass.
“Doors closing. Please stand clear.”
He was just about to step from the edge of the platform onto the train, when someone shoved him aside without warning or apology. As he fought for balance, he caught a glimpse of long blonde hair and a polka dot overnight bag. His foot, instead of landing on the floor of the carriage, went down in the narrow gap between the platform and the train! Desperately, he grabbed onto the side of the train, pulled his leg out from the gap, and jumped onto the train. He stood there amid the other commuters, trying to steady his breathing.
Well, that was an experience I don’t want to have again!
The doors slid shut and the train screeched away from the station.
Where did she go? he thought. His shock was quickly being overtaken by anger; he would have liked a word or two with the selfish person who had put him – and others – in danger.
His eyes scanned the carriage. There she is! The blonde-haired culprit was holding onto one of the yellow poles as though her life depended upon it. Her head was resting against the pole. She looks like she’s about my age. What was she thinking?
“Hey, you!” he shouted. Fury surged within him and propelled him toward her.
By the time she looked up, he was standing beside her and staring down into her pale face. She seemed to know why he was angry with her, for she quickly looked away.
She hasn’t even tried to apologise… even though she knows she’s done the wrong thing! It riled Patrick up even more.
“Who do you think you are, pushing people aside like that?” he demanded. “I nearly got my leg caught in the gap between the train and the platform.”
“I-I’m sorry,” she responded, looking down at her feet. “I just really needed to be on this train.”
What a lame excuse!
“So did everyone else! But you thought that you had more right to be here than all those people waiting on the platform. I’ve never seen anyone so self-absorbed.”
She finally looked him in the eye. “What would you do if you got a phone call from your sister, saying that your dad has had a heart attack and might not last the night?” she burst out. Tears filled her eyes.
Wow, Patrick, you’ve really put your foot in it now!
Guilt and sympathy filled him. He turned away. “I don’t know…” he said huskily. “I don’t know what I’d do. Look… I, um, I’m sorry for–”
She interrupted him. “I would have said the same things as you did.” Her lips formed a wobbly smile. “I’m Summer, by the way.”
An image of a shy little girl with blonde braids sprang into his mind. What? She can’t be the same girl I knew from Year 3… can she? The more he studied her face, the more convinced that she was the same girl. His pulse quickened.
“Summer? Summer Laird?”
She looked confused. “Yes, but how–”
He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face when he recollected the many times he had longed to find her and renew their friendship. And now she’s here! But… has she forgotten me?
“Do you remember the name ‘Patrick?’” he asked.
She didn’t reply straight away, but seemed to be slowly scanning his face with her hazel eyes. At last, their eyes connected.
Does she remember?
“How could I forget?” Her face reddened.
Patrick hoped she wouldn’t be so embarrassed that she’d cut their conversation short.
“We were a ‘couple’ in Year 3,” she laughed, “which, in reality, meant that we were best friends, I guess.”
Patrick laughed, too – with relief and amusement. “Yeah, I guess so.” He suddenly remembered what Summer had said about her dad, Mr Laird. “I’m really sorry to hear about your dad,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
He could see the pain in her face as she swallowed.
“Thanks,” she said simply.
“Hey, I was thinking,” he began, glancing around the carriage, “maybe we could grab a seat and you can tell me what you’ve been doing since Year 3. If you want to, that is.”
Please say ‘yes.’
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Patrick felt like he was about to burst with excitement. He’d found her! And she wanted to be friends again, too!
Liv'n'Hope 