(Josie Sayz: I really
like this piece. It came a long way from it’s Masked Detective days – I don’t
even think I want to share the origin of this story, because it’s so terrible
compared to how much I like this. Maybe I should; it will show how much my
writing improved in a few weeks.)
He was out of place
and out of time.
Katelyn
had seen this man every weekday for the past four months. Every morning, while
on her way to university, he would be waiting at the same train station as her,
get on the same train and then depart the train at the same station. When she
returned home, he would be there again, waiting for his train.
Out of
boredom, on occasions, Katelyn watched him pacing up and down; smiling at passers-by,
like he knew them. Sometimes, she had considered that, perhaps, he did know
them, although some of the returning glares he received said otherwise. With a curious
grin, she had observed him and his unusual habits of watching people from up
close and afar, but what she found most odd about him was how he stood out from
not just everyone else, but the scenery.
Every day,
no matter what the temperature, or the weather, this man would arrive at the
train station dressed in a way Katelyn described as, ‘an inspector from an old
fashioned, black and white, 1930s, detective movie.’ Always shadowing his face,
the man’s wide-brimmed hat angled above his moon-shaped spectacles, which he
often adjusted with his leathered hands. As he strode, the breeze swept up the
tail of his long trench coat as if it, itself, was eager to leave him. Katelyn
noticed that on some days he carried a briefcase with him, while on other days
he did not. He appeared too old to be in work, and he carried it too
infrequently to be a businessman. In an attempt to discover more about this
mystery man, Katelyn had often wondered what it was he carried inside it. ‘I
can’t be a bundle of papers,’ she decided, ‘it must be something else… like a
teddy bear,’ she sniggered to herself. ‘Or a mysterious computer that holds
everyone’s details and lots of spying equipment, which is why he appears to
know everybody.’ Yet she lacked the confidence to ever go up to him and ask for
herself. ‘What if he’s mean and tells me off for being nosy?’ she had thought
upon seeing him one late afternoon. ‘Well I guess it is quite nosy,’ she concluded and decided never to ask.
Creating
a vast comparison between himself and everyone else at the train station, the
odd man in the wide-brimmed hat often made children laugh. “Mummy, that man’s
wearing a funny hat,” a young child would say while tugging at their mother’s
hand, pointing towards him. “Look!” Pulling her child back from the platform
edge, the mother would always make them sit down on a bench, telling them to
sit quietly, or they would be given no more sweets. The man never cared for
their comments; in fact, he seemed proud to stand out, not following sheep in a
crowd, like most people. Grinning to herself, Katelyn respected him for that.
Despite
using an electric train, Katelyn had noticed that this man avoided all other
kinds of modern-day technology. She observed how he always used the stairs,
rather than the escalator or the lift when arriving at or departing from the
station; even though it was apparent from his creased brow and clenched eyes as
he mounted the stairs that climbing was a difficult task. Another thing Katelyn
detected, through watching him, was that he did not appear to have a mobile
phone – even her grandmother would not be without her mobile phone and she had
a phobia of technology. ‘Maybe he just doesn’t want to forget the days when he
was young,’ Katelyn concluded one day, when she discovered that even his pocket-watch
echoed his archaic style.
After
finishing university one day, Katelyn arrived at the train station, threw her bag
on the floor and slumped down on the bench folding her arms. Too irritated to
get her book out of her bag, her eyes lay locked to a spot on the ground as she
thought about her previous lecture. Letting out a sigh, her breath clouded the
bubble around her. With her icy stare fixated, she replayed her lecturer’s
remark over and over again in her mind, “A five-year-old could write better
than you.” Katelyn already had a severe disliking towards her lecturer, but now
she was certain she hated him. ‘A five-year-old,’ the words spiralled around in
her mind. Pushing her head into her hands she tried to free her mind of
thoughts. Exhaling, Katelyn lowered her hands from her face. As she did, she
tightened her eyes at the scream of a small child, whining that he wanted
sweets. ‘How can I be compared to that?’ she thought, frowning at the
child. ‘I bet he can’t even spell his own name, let alone write a story.’
Bundling
her arms together and forcing them tight towards her stomach, Katelyn returned
her sight to the floor. Her stomach howled to be refuelled, but she was too
irritated to feed it. Glaring at the ground, she was determined to shake away
her anger, when a pair of shoes interrupted her vision. Slitting her eyes, she
wrinkled her nose at her view blocker. Her stiff hands rubbed over her face as
she sighed. It was that man again. ‘He looks so out-of-place,’ she thought as
she glared at his back. ‘Who does he think he is – standing out like that?’
Trying
to continue her thinking, Katelyn’s eyes returned back to the spot where she
had been staring. ‘Look at his trousers;’ she thought in disgust, ‘they’re so
short you can see his socks.’ Tilting her head to the side Katelyn stared with
a stern expression, wishing to catch a glimpse of his face, so that he could
see what she thought of him. As he turned around, Katelyn’s confidence tablecloth
was swiped out from under her. She shifted her sight down to her own shoes and
bit her bottom lip. Feeling her heartbeat’s tune increase in pace, Katelyn
wondered, ‘Does he know what I’m thinking?’ feeling her face turn red. ‘Can he
read my mind?’ She gasped. To make sure that no one was now staring at her,
keeping her head still, Katelyn’s eyes darted around. ‘Argh!’ she jumped. The
moon-shaped spectacled man’s vision met hers and the corners of his mouth up
turned, as if she amused him. ‘Quick!’ she warned herself, ‘Think of something
else. Need to think of something… need to think of something…’
Fidgeting
with her bracelet, she sensed his gaze upon her. Swallowing she ran her hand
through the side of her hair a couple of times, before adjusting her posture.
‘Why does he keep looking at me?’ she clutched the edges of the wooden bench
and began tapping her heels against the ground. ‘Stupid brain…’ she whimpered
clenching her fists. ‘Think! You think of stuff all the time. Think of
something, think of anything!’ Trying to find something uninteresting that
normal people do at a train station, to blend in (in hope that the man would
stop staring at her because she was boring) Katelyn glanced up at the
electrical information board, to see how long she had left before her train was
due. ‘Oh no, the train’s delayed.’ Katelyn shook her head as her bottom lip
quivered. ‘Stupid train, why can’t you get here early on the day I need you to?’
No
longer feeling that she was being watched, Katelyn lifted her head and searched
that area around her. A few men were typing away on their laptops. The boy, who
had been screaming for sweets, was now playing a handheld games console. Many
of the station’s commuters were tampering with their mobile phones and a
teenager was blasting music on his i-pod.
Returning
her sight to the man in the wide-brimmed hat, Katelyn could not help but want
to grasp his attention again. ‘How can he be so… so… so confident to stand out, like that?’ She watched him stare across
the platform; he was watching other people now, not her. ‘I bet he could write
a good story,’ she concluded crossing one leg over the other. ‘He wouldn’t get
called a five year old either… I wonder how old he actually is?’ Although she often referred to him as, ‘the old man,’
Katelyn realised that she has no idea how old he was. He could have been any
age from sixty-five to ninety.
The
train’s arrival time increased its delay. Katelyn found herself glued to the
clock, counting down the seconds. Gripping the back of her neck, she searched
the platform for something to occupy her mind. Her vision returned to the
spectacled man, admiring the station. Whilst looking at him, she realised something,
‘Why is it no matter what time I leave university, he’s always at the train
station?’ Her eyes widened as she swallowed, ‘Is he a spy? Is he spying on me?’
She tugged at the cuffs of her coat, tightening them around her wrists. ‘Oh no,
he’s looking at me again, why can’t he go back up the platform…?’ The man
nodded his head at her and strode up the platform. ‘He has… he can read my
mind… Oh my gosh, he can read my
mind!’ She froze. Shaking her head Katelyn scolded herself, ‘Oh, stop it! Stop
it! He can’t read your mind – nobody can…’ She rubbed her hand over her face
exhaling. Without turning, she glanced in his direction, watching him trudge up
the platform. ‘But what if he can?’
Her gaze returned to the floor.
Five
minutes remained of the wait Katelyn faced before her train arrived. Her drum
beat harder and slower, as she gripped her chest, closing her eyes, shutting
herself off from everyone. Squinting open her eyes, her paranoia grew. ‘He’s
looking this way again – quick – think of something, a place, an object, anything.’ Her stomach growled again.
She folded her arms, pushing them towards it, in hope to halt its complaining.
‘I’m so hungry,’ Katelyn winced, shutting her eyes tight. The bitter wind
brushed against her skin and she clasped her hands together. ‘It’s freezing! I
couldn’t eat my dinner even if I wanted to.’ As her lower lip trembled, her
wide eyes gleamed at the sight of her bag. ‘I only want one bite,’ she sighed
rubbing her fingers. ‘But it’s too cold… and people will see me…’ Glancing
around at the station Katelyn prayed, ‘I hope the train arrives soon, either
that or everybody magically disappears.’ She kicked at her bag with a creased
forehead. ‘Why must the train be late on the day that I’m so hungry? If only –
he’s looking at me again.’ Instead of
his previous smirk, the man tilted his head to face her and raised his
eyebrows. ‘He seems more sympathetic this time,’ she thought looking down at
her nails. ‘Oh great, now he thinks I’m some sort of sad case!’ She pinched her
arm. ‘Listen to yourself, no one can read minds, you stupid girl. You’re being
ridiculous!’
Biting
her nails, she flinched as the ring of the railway announcer chimed that the
train was nearing the station. Sighing with relief, a small smile formed on
Katelyn’s face. ‘Finally, the train’s here.’ Rubbing the warmth back into her
fingers, she grabbed her bag and leapt forward to the platform edge. After the
fumble of passengers departing from the train and the scramble of people
boarding it, Katelyn crept through the masses of people. Stepping up onto the
train she heard a voice. “Oh, Katelyn,” it said as she felt a hand upon her
shoulder. Swallowing, she clutched her bag and turned to see who had called
her. Removing his wide-brimmed hat from his head, the man in moon-shaped
glasses smiled at her. Katelyn had never seen him without his hat on before,
his face seemed familiar to her, but she did not know why. “Enjoy your vegan
pepper steak, cucumber and avocado sandwich.” He winked, as he smiled at her.
Her heart froze. She forgot to breath. Her mouth dropped. Before she could say
anything the doors to the train closed and it pulled away.
-
Josie -
