passenger in transit

They are sitting next to me on the train. He reads, she sleeps. From here I can only see his profile and the back of her head of golden hair, sleeping on his lap. He reads a book about traveling and has an arm surrounding her, protecting her. A young couple, traveling from Tours to Paris. It’s a grey day in the middle of the winter and the sky I can see through the window is threatening with rain. We go through Mer, Beaugency, Meung sur Loire. Bucolic stamps of the Loire Valley, the perfect scenery.

I look at them once in a while and I’m amazed by the tranquility of the scene. He is dressed casual, but impeccable for a rainy Saturday. He is not handsome, not ugly, and has a terrible air of ‘good people’, of faithful loving husband. He is wearing Snoopy socks. I imagine she gave those to him. I imagine they live in Orleans and are coming back from visiting some family. I imagine she is this angelical creature that he adores and protects, a divine woman. A french woman out of a romance novel, from head to toes. She must have blue eyes that go with her golden hair and his green eyes. They must have a beautiful house, where she is the queen and everything is perfect, in there’s always laughter and music and kisses. He must have a good job, but always has time for her and the book he is reading is to plan the itinerary for their next vacations. And I imagine... how lucky, what a nice couple. It seems that being married is not so bad. Feel that peace, that safeness, her rhythmic breathing while sleeping, his watching over while he reads… surrounding her with his arm.

We are arriving to Orleans. He shakes her, she wakes up buffing. Her thick and black eyebrows show that her golden hair is not so golden in reality. Her angelical face is really fat, with tiny eyes. He tries to kiss her, she turns her face the other way, annoyed. “Get away” she says, “You are a pest and this is not what you are paying me for”. He looks at her with a little bit of anger and a lot of repulsion. While they are leaving I realized his wearing a wedding ring and she doesn’t…. oh! l’amour, l’amour and the blessings of being single.

At Orleans a man takes the couple place. He takes out a laptop, pens, calculator, glasses out of his bag and starts to type in numbers in what seems to be a software that once in a while makes a ‘ca-ching’ noise, like a teller machine. And the man smiles each time he hears that noise. Ca-ching/smile, ca-ching/smile, ca-ching/smile. After 15 minutes, he takes the glasses off, puts them on one side, looking closer to the computer, concentrated and excited at the ca-ching rhythm. A few minutes left to arrive to Paris and now he looks worried, glasses back on his face… is it that he couldn’t make enough ca-chings? A modern version of a character from The Little Prince, for him playing ca-ching is so much better than playing Nintendo, reading, anything. That’s why he doesn’t realize that those white socks really don’t go with the black shoes?

We are arriving to Paris. We all walk fast to the door to be able to descend-as-fast-as-possible, still don’t know why. A dad and her daughter are playing a game, which side will we descend? “This side” says the dad, “that side” says the girl “this side”, “that side”, “this side”, “that side”, “if you lose you have to give me 50 cents”. And it goes one and we all smile. The train is just going slower and slower, but doesn’t stop. “This side, that side, this side, that side”. We still don’t know which way will be getting off. The girl doesn’t play anymore, the dad still goes on “this side, this side, this side, this side, 50 cents” Ok, it’s enough. The girl and everybody else have changed from oh-how-cute!-smiles to when-will-he-stop-faces. We don’t care anymore if we go down this side or that side, we just want him to shut up. Even more, we want him to loose so he has to give the darn 50 cents to the girl. Unfortunately we descend from ‘this side’, hence big smile on the dad’s face, who now only says “I told you, I told you, this side!! Where are my 50 cents? Where? Ah?” Mr Ca-Ching searches on his pocket, hands 50 cents to the girl “Make him shut up, please”. And we all descend from the train… by this side.