February 23, 2009

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  I take the train to work every day.  A place on the train is a special place.  It is very crowded with all kinds of people.  I sit so close to other people like a sadine packed in a can.  Yet, I can find solitude.  For forty five minutes I can chase my dozen thoughts running like maniacs in my head or I can watch characters in whatever book I am reading living their lives.  Or I can observe people although I can see the back of their heads only.  The time I can really see people’s face is when I sit in the waiting room await the coming train.  When it is cold, more people stay in the waiting room. 

   

  I often see them in the waiting room.  The two men often sit next to each other.  One is older than the other.  The older man is Caucasian and well dressed.  He is about late fifty to early sixty.  His hair is thin and a bald spot can be seen from the back although he tries to cover it by combing hair from adjacent location.  He apparently works in an office, white or blue shirt, dark suits, dark expensive shoes, nice mid length black wool coat.  He is always reading a newspaper.  The New York Post.

   

  The younger man is about early to mid fifty.  His hair is pepper and salt.  Each time I look at him I am thinking of a character in a short story of Ha Jin, The House Behind the Weeping Cherry.  He looks Asian but I am not sure if he is.  He is too dark to be white American and much taller than a regular Asian although northern Chinese or Japanese can be very tall. He is may be 6’3”, taller than the older man with the newspaper, big frame, and wide shoulders.  He is casually dressed with sneakers, jeans, and a large, hip length, beaten coat.  He has a nose of a hawk, thin lips, short chin slightly bent inward (in profile he looks like a cartoon character in the Simpsons), and unusual set of eyes.  His eyeballs are slightly protruding with the white part of his eyes prominently larger than the irises making him look fierce.  He also always read the New York Post, by sitting next to the older man and casting his glances over the paper of the older man.  He tilts his head.  He cranes his neck. He turns when the older man turns.

   

  The owner of the newspaper, does not seem to mind although he does not offer the younger man the pages he finishes.  The two men barely talk but once in a while they acknowlege each other by a nod or muster something unrecognizable.  I will not say that they are friendly to each other.  They have a certain distance of people who know each other because they ride the same train and reading the same paper.  Outside that common thing they have nothing else in common.  Sometimes the older man stands.  The younger man also stands, behind the older man.  When the older man slightly turns the other way, the younger man also turns with him, or with the newspaper.

   

  This morning in the waiting room the two men sit apart.  Between them are several people.  When the train comes I get on the train first.  The older man sits on the row in front of me.  A few second later the younger man follows to the seat next to the older man.  He hesitates a few seconds as if he wonders whether he should sit with the older man. The older man says something I can not hear, perhaps an invitation because at once the younger man is happy to take the seat next to the older man.  By looking at the back of his head I can tell that he is reading the other man’s newspaper.

   

  I wonder why he does not buy his own paper if he likes to read that much.

   

  • 9:54 pm
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