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This Seat Taken?

She stiffened when she saw him spot the empty seat beside her. Actually, it was just mostly empty. A small boutique bag occupied it, her signal to the world that yes, this seat is taken. But she knew from where he stood, near the doors, he could not see her bag. Dammit if he wasn't working his way back through the crowded car of the 6:15, apparently intent on sitting there. Her right hand drifted down, and shoved the bag out just a wee bit more, to make the claim more obvious.

It would be different if he wasn't so... gross. The guy was massive, dressed in grimy jeans and a T. Obvious sweat stains radiated from his arm pits. As he got closer she could see his shoes, dun colored work boots, spattered with something, obviously in desperate need of a trash can. She turned her full attention to her book, determined not to look up.

“This seat taken?”

She pretended not to hear.

He turned, positioned himself, and started to lower his butt towards the edge of the seat. “You mind?”

She shot him a nasty look, grabbed her bag, and nestled it on the floor next to her other bag. “Be my guest.”

If he recognized sarcasm he gave no indication. Figures. Too stupid to know it when he heard it.

“Thanks.” He settled in, taking up as much room as a 1.5 adult male does. He stank. “I'm beat. Been hauling mortar all day, and the heat's a bitc... It's a scorcher. Putting up Hancock tower, downtown.”

Her eyes remained fixed on the book. She read the same sentence for the third time.

“What'cha reading?”

She finally looked up at him, flipped the book cover towards him, forced a smile. “It's a romance. You wouldn't like it.”

“You got that right.”

Her eyes were already back on the page.

“You need an iPod.”

She scowled at him. “What?”

“Better for shutting out other people.” He did a quarter turn away from her and struck up a conversation with the guy standing next to him. Something stupid, like sports statistics.

There was a sudden metallic screeching. The the car rocked violently, first one way, then the other. The big oaf fell into her. Then they lurched the other way, causing her to crash into him. Her chin rammed into his back, driving her teeth together in a painful snap. People screamed as the car tumbled in it's death roll.

Pain seared through her: her mouth, her left arm, her left foot. She was knocked loopy when her head banged against the sidewall of the car, or the sidewall of the car collapsed inward towards her head. Everything was completely askew. It took a while to realize that people were climbing up the seats, from the front of the car towards the back, as if the seats were ladders. It was complete pandemonium. She was only vaguely aware that water was also climbing the seats towards her.

She heard someone screaming about the rear doors, yet no one seemed to be leaving. Get off of me! She shoved people away as they clawed their way upwards.

The big oaf stood up on the back of the fore seat, grabbed the overhead bar, and drove both feet into the window just in front of her. Once. Twice. It popped out with a bang on the third try. People immediately began pressing towards them, threatening to crush her.

“One at a time!” He decked a guy trying to wedge his way in. “We'll all get out of here. Don't panic.” He began shoving people through the gaping maw. The first few stopped dead in place, stricken anew.

“Keep moving!”

“We're in the river!”

He rose half way out. There were two loud splashes, then he was back inside, shoving people through the hole, ones and twos at a time. She got stepped on repeatedly.

He shoved the last of the able-bodied up and told them to hold pat. Then he began assisting the injured up towards the opening, or down, depending on where he found them. On his third pass he noticed her again. “You still here?”

“My foot!” She pointed to where her left foot was firmly wedged between the seat strut and the outer wall.

“Damn!” He bent and tried to pull it free. She forced herself not to scream in pain. “That hurt? She nodded. “Double damn!”

Again he held the overhead bar and stomped with both feet, this time on the back of the offending seat. He did it again, and again, seemingly to no avail. But the struts gave, bit by bit. At last she pulled her foot out of her shoe. It flopped about, like a broken doll's. She screamed, both from joy and pain. Without further ado he grabbed her and hoisted her out to waiting hands. She turned to reach for him just as the car gave one last twist. She saw his eyes go big and round as she was thrown into the water.

“There's a man in there! There's a man in there!” She kept screaming to the water patrol as they wrapped her in a blanket. “You've got to get him!” She started beating the poor guy on the chest with her good hand when the boat turned for shore.

Ashore, emergency crews did their best at triage. She was put into Group B, non-life-threatening injuries, and given another blanket. The fireman who immobilized her foot sympathized about her friend, whom she kept wailing about, before moving on. She curled into a fetal ball and wept.

She became aware of someone standing next to her. Through her tears she saw dun colored work boots in desperate need of a trash can.

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© 2009 by Jon M. Strother. All rights reserved.

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