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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2318147-Just-south-of-Nineth-Street
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #2318147
Short Story
Just South of Ninth Street
         by
         G.F. Frontera



         "Attention! Attention! All southbound November, Delta, and Romeo trains operating on F one and three tracks between Pacific Street and Thirty-sixth Street. We have a report of unauthorized person on the roadbed. Operate with restricted speed and extreme caution and immediately report to the Control Center the location of such person, or persons, if seen".
         The radio went silent. Train Operator Walter Birchall thought to himself that it was good thing that this was happening on the southbound tracks. Walter had just pulled out of Thirty-sixth Street, operating the zero eight zero nine Romeo out of Ninety-fifth Street, heading north to Continental Avenue. This was the first half of his last trip and having a delay now by having a man under would be most inconvenient. The trip was always a little nerve racking and frustrating to begin with given it was the height of the morning rush hour. The train carried a crush load of Brooklynites on their way to work in Manhattan and any delay of more than a couple of minutes would raise everyone's blood pressure to the boiling point.
         Walter had a funny feeling about it just the same. His intuition and the little voice inside his head kept repeating a warning to slow down, pay attention to what's on the roadbed ahead, and keep a look out for anything out of the ordinary.
         After making his station stop at Twenty-fifth Street, Walter proceeded cautiously down the northbound local track. The track ahead looked clear so he sped up a bit to the next station. He couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension and heighten sense of foreboding as he entered Prospect Avenue.
         "Yo, Train Operator, everything okay?'" came the voice of his conductor over the intercom.
         "Yeah, it's all good. Just being a little cautious. Control Center said we got unauthorized on the roadbed somewhere around here and I don't feel like going downtown to pee in a cup for a twelve nine." he responded.
         "OK, thanks for letting me know."
         As his conductor made his PA announcements in the station, opened and closed the train's doors, Walter tried to convince himself that he had nothing to be concerned about. The problem was on the southbound side.
         The apprehension persisted and the small voice in his head seemed to get a little louder as he pulled out of the station. Having a man under in the middle of rush hour with a packed train would be disastrous for everyone, especially him, his conductor, and what was left of what was under the train. It would mean being taken out of service, being drug tested, and placed on restricted duty. Being on restricted duty would mean not being able to work any overtime and being restricted to platform duty. No overtime meant not being able to take care of all the bills that were beginning to pile up. Walter worried he wouldn't have the money for the kid's tuition at St. Mark's, Grandma's home attendant costs that Medicare didn't cover, and a new water heater, if he couldn't work overtime.
         Walter tried not to think of his financial burdens and focused on operating the train and the signals ahead. He released the brakes and took power, hoping he would get to Continental on time without any problems. He kept telling himself everything is going to be all right, it's nothing to worry over, just operate the train, and pay attention to the signals.
         Just south of Ninth Street, he saw something on the roadbed ahead of him that he instinctively knew was not supposed to be there. He quickly grabbed some brake and managed to bring the train to a screaking halt a half car length away from what he saw on the tracks. He felt his heart pounding fast and could feel his palms getting clammy and sweat beading on his forehead. There in front of him, in the dim pooled light of the tunnel, lying between the running rails was a Chinese man. The man looked like he was in his twenties. He was wearing torn at the knee pants and a dirty white tee shirt. Patches of steel dust, like a ghastly sort of make-up, marred a boyish face. He might be a homeless, Walter thought. The Chinese man had his head resting on one rail with a newspaper underneath it like a pillow, his shoeless, steel dust covered feet resting on the opposite rail. The man waved at Walter with one hand as if beckoning him to run over him over with the train. The Chinese man shouted, almost screaming, fervently in Chinese. Walter couldn't understand what this crazy Chinese man was yelling about.
         Walter quickly grabbed his radio mic and forced his words out. With a nervous stammer and staccato voice, he started transmitting.
         "Control--Center-- come into the zero eight zero nine Romeo nine five".
         "Zero eight zero nine Romeo nine five, go ahead for Control. What's your location and problem?"
         "Yeah, Control, this is the zero eight zero nine Romeo nine five. I'm between Prospect Avenue and Ninth Street on F two track. I got a person lying between the running rails in front of my train. He seems to be emotionally disturbed and wants me to run him over".
         The radio went silent for a moment. Walter took the opportunity get his nerves under control and to tell his conduct what the situation was, and to make up some PA announcements to keep the passengers as calm possible so they don't have more problems. They were going to be delayed here for a while.
         "Did you make contact with this passenger with the train?" the Control Center Dispatcher asked, his voice intense and demanding.
         "No Control, I'm about a half car length in front of the person. He seems agitated and disturbed".
         "All right, train operator. Transit Police have been notified. What is the nearest signal number or survey marker so we know your exact location?'
         "Yeah Control I'm right near survey marker F two, five four three, plus fifty."
         "All right, train operator, transit police are responding. You think it's possible for you to get the person off the roadbed and onto your train?"
         Walter didn't answer immediately. He asked himself how in the world is he supposed do get this crazy Chinese man on his train. He couldn't understand what he was saying and wasn't sure if the Chinese man understood what he was saying.
         "I'll see what I can do Control."
         "Okay, train operator. Let us know if you get him on the train. Nine five, Murphy Tower, come in for Control. We got the zero eight zero nine Romeo just south of Ninth Street with unauthorized on the roadbed"
         Walter rubbed the day old whiskers on his chin with his hand while thinking of a way to get this crazy Chinese man on the train. He half listened as Control Center ordered Ninety-Fifth Street to hold back Romeo service, and instructed Murphy Tower to runaround his train, or start turning trains if they had to. Now everyone knew what the situation was. It probably was on ten ten WINS by now as well.
         Walter realized the only way to get the crazy Chinese man on his train was to talk him. Not knowing how to speak Chinese, Walter knew he needed someone who did. Given the present circumstance the only place he could find help was on the train. Walter decided that he had to ask the passengers for help. He opened his inner cab door and stood in its doorway.
         "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please."
         The car packed with Brooklynites got strangely silent. All the passengers stared blankly at Walter. Walter forced himself to remain calm and act professionally.
         "We have a situation here and I need some help. I have someone on the tracks in front of the train. I'm having a problem talking to this person because he doesn't speak English. I need someone who speaks Chinese. Is there anybody in this car that speaks Chinese and can help me talk to this person. Anyone , please. Is there anyone who speaks Chinese in this car?"
         From the back of the crowed car came a voice.
         "Yes, yes. I do. I can speak Chinese."
         Pushing his way through the crowed train car Walter saw him approach. He was a short stubby Chinese man in his late thirties. Walter was relieved to see him.
         "I speak Chinese. How Can I help?" he asked.
         "I need you to translate for me. I have a guy on the tracks in front of the train. I need you to help me convince him to get on the train. What's your name?"
         "I understand. My name is Jin Han. You can call me Tony, my American name"
         "Okay, Tony. My name is Walter. I shouldn't be doing this but I need your help to talk to this guy. Come with me and be careful, don't touch anything if you can help it. All the circuit breakers are six hundred volts and I don't want you to get hurt."
         Walter led Tony cautiously into his operating cab and closed the door behind them. Walter opened the outer door of his operating cab and pointed to the Chinese man on the tracks in front of the train.
         "Ask him what he is doing laying there on the tracks."
         Tony shouted out to the Chinese man translating Walter's questions. The Chinese man on the tracks responded to Tony in an agitated manner, waving his arm in the air as if asking them to run him over with the train.
         "What did he say, what is he doing that for?" asked Walter.
         Tony explained to Walter that the Chinese man on the tracks told him that he shamed and disgraced his family. In order to restore the family's honor he must kill himself. He believes that killing himself this way would be the most efficient and painless way to do it and would they please just run him over with the train so he can restore his family's honor.
         Walter could hardly believe what Tony was telling him. He had heard about such things being part of Asian cultures but did not think they were still practiced today. He thought that was something they only did in ancient times or in the movies.
         "All right, tell him I just want to talk to him first. Tell him to stay where he is and just to listen for a few minutes. Tell him I just want to be sure that he really wants to do this."
         Tony translated and Walter was hopeful that he could either convince the Chinese man to get on the train or stall long enough so that Transit Police would get there to get him off the tracks.
         "Tony, ask him his name and tell him I'm going to move a little closer so we can talk, and stay where he is. He doesn't have to get up."
         Tony translated while Walter climbed down the front of the train to the roadbed. Walter moved slowly, taking baby steps toward the Chinese man.
         "He says his name is Lu Tang and that he is ready to die to restore the family honor he has ruined and would you please help him to die honorably."
         "Tony, I need you to translate everything I say as carefully as possible. I need you to help me convince this guy not to kill himself like this. I need you to help make him feel he doesn't have to do this, that his family's honor has not been ruined."
         "I'll do the best I can, Walter, to sound convincing. Some words don't translate very well but I'll try."
         Walter tried to think up every good reason for Lu Tang to come with him and get on the train. Walter told him how life was an invitation to learn and we learn something new every moment. He compared life to the waves of the ocean and how each wave brings new and exciting experiences and opportunities and how Lu Tang could only grow wiser because of it. He could then impart this wisdom to his children and grandchildren someday so that they could have fulfilling lives in America. Walter spoke about how our lives are not only our own. Our life also belongs to those around us and we have an obligation to share both good times and bad times so that we can grow in understanding and experience all of life. We are all obligated to help each other. There is nothing that we can possibly do that is so bad or so wrong that we cannot be forgiven it by those who care about us. Walter explained that to live is to discover things about ourselves that we were not aware of. To live-- truly live--is to give ourselves permission to fall in love, with someone, with something, or with life itself.
         Walter went on to try to explain how death is waiting for us anyway so why should we call on it before it is truly our time.
Tony translated as Walter explained all this. Both noticed that Lu Tang's demeanor began to change. He sat up from his prone position. Walter could see the emotion welling up in his dark brown, downturned eyes. Lu Tang sat cross-legged and listened to Walter's rambling admonitions against dying by train. Walter stooped down in front of Lu Tang, less that an arm's length away.
         "I'm sorry but I can't do this, Lu Tang. I can't go over you with the train. If I did that it would be dishonorable for me and I would bring shame upon my family like you say you did to yours. And if I bring dishonor to my family would I then have to die as well? I do not want to die, Lu Tang. I want to see my children grow up. I want to grow old with my wife."
         Walter stretched out his hand to Lu Tang. Lu Tang raised his head up to look at Walter who offered a smile along with his hand. Lu tang took the offered hand and both men stood up. Tears made muddy tracks on Lu Tang's steel dust stained cheeks as they walked together to the front of the train. Walter showed Lu Tang how to climb up onto the train. Tony waited atop and offered his hand to Lu Tang as he reached the cab. Walter climbed up behind him.
         Walter opened the inner cab door to the train car. He asked an older gentleman and a teenage girl if they would vacant the corner seats next to the cab. After they complied Walter directed Lu Tang to sit, and asked Tony to stay with him. As he turned to re-enter his cab he came face to face with a bevy of transit cops who must came down the track just after he and Lu Tang had climbed onto the train. Before he could say anything or explain the situation, he was ordered to step aside gruffly by a gold shielded officer, probably a sergeant, whose nametag read Diaz. Walter took note of the shield number, seven-five-four, as he knew he would need it later for the incident report Control Center would want him to write. Looking back as he entered his cab he could see Lu Tang being handcuffed by an officer while Tony was being question by another.
         Walter picked up his radio mic and called the Control Center.
         "Control Center, come in for the zero eight zero nine Romero nine five south of Ninth Street."
         "Zero eight zero nine Romero nine five, go ahead for Control."
         "Yeah Control, I got that unauthorized off the roadbed and on the train. Transit police have responded and are on the train with the unauthorized in their custody."
         "Very good, zero eight zero nine Romeo nine five. Make sure all transit police are on the train and no one else is on the roadbed. Proceed on signal and lets us know when you're on the move."
         "Affirmative Control, will do."
         Walter opened his inner door again and asked the transit police sergeant if all of his personnel were accounted for. Getting his assurance, Walter told him he was going to move the train into the Ninth Street station. Walter then let his Conductor know he was about to move the train. Walter could hear his conductor make an announcement apologizing for the delay and the train will be proceeding. Walter thought he heard what sound like a cheer coming from inside the train car.
         "Control Center, the zero eight zero nine Romeo nine five is on the move."
         "Very good, zero eight zero nine Romeo nine five. Give Control Center a call when you get to Continental."
         Walter released his brakes, took power, and brought his train into the Ninth Street station. Once in the station Walter could see the transit cops taking Lu Tang off the train in handcuffs. As he was being led away Lu Tang stopped and turned to look at Walter.
         "I okay. You okay. We okay," Lu Tang shouted in broken English.
         The conductor closed the doors and announced the next stop will be Pacific Street as Walter watched the transit officers lead Lu Tang to the exit and out of sight.
         Operating his train to Pacific Street, Walter thought about how he heard that the Chinese believed that once you save a man's life you become responsible for him. Walter hoped and prayed Lu Tang would live in a peaceful and unashamed way.
         When the train arrived into Pacific Street, the Dekalb Avenue Tower dispatcher told Walter to take the express lineup over the Manhattan Bridge and to make express stops in Manhattan and Queens. Walter was grateful for skipping some stations. He wanted and needed to get off the train and relax for a few minutes as his nerves were rather frazzled at this point. He let his conductor know, who then made the appropriate announcement so the passengers would be made aware of the rerouting.
         When the train finally arrived at Continental Avenue, Walter was relieved to get off the train. He felt emotionally spent and exhausted. He thought if he was lucky he could catch a quick catnap before having to make the last half trip back to Ninety-fifth Street. Walter waited for his conductor before entering the dispatcher's office.
         Walter and his conductor were greeted by Miss Jackson, the R line dispatcher at Continental. She had a reputation of being a no nonsense hard boiled type women who had little time niceties and chit chat and expected everyone to work as hard and be as dedicated as she was to running an efficient railroad. Walter liked her and respected her, but kept his distance, and her boundaries.
         "It's about time you two arrived. Messing up my railroad like you did. You know you're almost an hour late arriving," she said in an exasperated tone.
         Walter began to explain why they were so late but she cut him off before he could get started.
         "I know all about it, no need to explain. It's the only thing everyone's been talking about and I've been jumping ahead for you two all morning. Good thing I had some extra crews available to make up the difference. You two must think you're some kind of heroes or something. Here , Superintendent Sullivan wants a G two from both of you, and Birchall, Control Center wants you to call them."
         Miss Jackson handed Walter and his conductor a pad of blank lined G two paper to write down what had happened earlier that morning south of Ninth Street. Walter wrote down everything he thought was important but was careful not to say anything that would make it seem that he acted in a way that could get him, or his conductor, in hot water. One of the unwritten rules in New York City Transit was that no good deed goes unpunished. Once he finished writing, Walter put his report into the Superintends mailbox and picked up one of the four phones sitting on the dispatcher's desk to call the Control Center. Once connected, Walter gave the person on the other ended the same information he had given them earlier and had written in his report to the Superintendent and hung up.
         Walter and his conductor stood there and waited anxiously for Miss Jackson to tell them what she wanted them to do next. Walter cleared his throat and asked...
         "What are we going to make out?"
         Miss Jackson looked up from her Train Register Sheets and hesitated before answering.
"You two are almost at your clearing time. As much as I would like to send you out in service, I'd have to pay you an extra trip. Forget it, just deadhead back to Ninety-fifth Street and we'll call it a day."
         Walter and his conductor stood there in silence not believing what they heard. Miss Jackson rarely gave anyone a dropped trip or deadhead. Walter's conductor grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the door.
         "Come on let's go before she changes her mind."
         Walter stood there for a moment and wanted to say thank you but could bring himself to utter the words. Miss Jackson turned back to her register sheets.
         "If you hurry up there's one coming out of the relay going back to Nine Five," she said without looking at them.
         As Walter walk out the door he heard...
         "...and Birchall, you done good today. Good to have guys like you on the R line."
         A southbound pulled into the station from the relay tracks just as Walter and his conductor got to the other side. They got on and sat down as soon as the doors opened and waited for the train to head back to Ninety-fifth Street.
         "Interesting day we had, don't you think?" asked his conductor picking up a discarded newspaper on the seat next to him.
         " Yeah, right. Interesting. I'm exhausted from all the excitement. Listen do me a favor, wake me up when we get to Ninety-fifth. I need to take a nap."
         "Sure bud, I'll let you know."
         The train doors closed and the train began to move. Walter shut his eyes and tried to go to sleep.



The End


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