#the 46

The three of them sat waiting on a bench in the tunnel. A middle-aged woman with dried saliva crusted around her mouth, muttered to herself while clutching two garbage bags full of clothing. She wore a red and black bonnet tied loosely around her neck, over top of which rested a gray shawl, which careened down her torso, partially covering a felt overcoat of darker gray. Beneath that a black dress was slipped over a fold of wrinkles and a pair of gray sweatpants, and, on her feet, she had on a pair of too large Nikes, once white, now caked in grime, with no shoelaces.

At the other end, an older man, not quite elderly, sat, clean-shaven and ruddy-faced, in a used suit with no tie and a blank black ballcap over the squiggles of hair protruding from his head. One hand, a hook, rested on his lap, while the other arm was draped over the boy’s shoulder. The boy, a deaf-mute, sat pensively, expressionless, as if waiting to hear for the first time. From time to time, they glanced at each other, nodded with their eyes, then looked over at the woman.

There was no one else at the train platform, and it went on like this for several minutes.

Finally, the man became aware the woman had been staring at them and talking for about 30 seconds in her rambling mumbles.

“I’m sorry?” the man inquired.

“no such thing, no such thing.” The woman shook her head. “I don’t believe in apologies. One way street. One way ticket. No apologies. No forgiveness. No second chances. No heaven. Only hell.”

The man looked at the boy.

“And it is here,” she continued.

“You don’t believe in heaven? What else do you not believe in?”

“There is nothing. No heaven, no God, no right. Only hell and suffering. Here.”

“Do you believe in space?”

“Lies. Lies are real. I believe in lies. All lies.”

“So you don’t believe in space?”

“No space. Just suffering.”

“Then you don’t believe in space cat?”

“Lies.”

“And the prophecy of space cat?”

She shook her head and the man cleared his throat.

“When I was a younger man, I worked for NASA after retiring from the Air Force. I was, I am, one of the lucky few who have ever had the pleasure to get up there.” He looked up at the flaking paint on the ceiling. “We were in space for 210 days. On the second to last day, a cat appeared in the shuttle. Space cat. He spoke to each of us softly, directly. He knew our pasts and told us our futures.” He lifted his hook hand.

“He told me I would lose this hand, but that a year later, to the day, I would find a deaf and mute boy who would give my life meaning again.” He pointed with his hook at the boy.

“He said the boy was gifted and that, not only would I tutor the boy, but I would nurture his gifts. The boy will be able to see the future and be a great asset to our human race. And, one day, the boy will speak and his powers will grow.”

The woman coughed and muttered something incomprehensible. The train rang its whistle and the rumble on the tracks began to grow.

“Do you at least believe in fate? Or destiny?”

The woman shook her head and began shuffling to her feet.

“Well I do. Everything space cat had told me has come true. I have no choice to believe it. This boy is the reason for my life. I have purpose.”

“Does the boy talk?”

“Not yet. But one day he will, and I will be by his side.” “You are a crazy old man.”

The headlights approached as the train slowed, pulling into the station. The woman waddled forward, then leapt onto the tracks just before the train reached them. The blood of the woman sprayed everywhere as the conductor desperately braked hard.