covers. The room still smelled of his dad’s cologne.
Jonas sat down on the very end of his mother’s bed, as far from her as he could. The shades were drawn, and it was dark. She used to get up and run Saturday mornings, rain or shine, all year long.
“Want me to make coffee?” he asked.
“That would be terrific.”
Jonas stood up.
“I am so lucky. You’re the best child any mother could ever hope to have. You know that, don’t you?” his mother said.
Jonas didn’t turn around. “Thanks, Mom,” he said. It was like a cruel joke.
The good part was he could make the coffee, get Lily her cereal, plop her in front of the TV, and slip out of the house without having to explain anything to his mother.
He headed straight for the subway station at Fifty-ninth Street.
Jonas now knew he could find Laura, not what time but
where.
Always on the same subway, on the uptown 6 train, sometimes the downtown,
sometimes
being the operative word. It took all of waiting, hit or miss, sitting in the station, but it was always the 6 train, the one with graffiti. The train with the artwork, the mess, the letters, tags, pictures, and color splashed all over it.
Jonas never knew he’d have the train schedule so clearly mapped in his head. He knew the routes and pretty much the entire timetable. He flew down the stairs into the darkness of the subway station, eyes wide open, drinking in all the available light.
“You’re not the falling-in-love type,” Nick had told him.
“I know I’m not,” Jonas agreed. For different reasons, they had both finished their math quiz early and were sitting in the faculty stairwell.
“Well, for someone who’s not the type, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about her.”
“And hanging out in the subway looking for her,” Jonas added.
“You’re shitting me! Is that where you’ve been? Is that why you never text me back?”
“No service down there.”
Nick smacked his friend in the arm. “You still don’t have her phone number?”
How could he explain? He couldn’t. It didn’t make sense. It sounded more than borderline crazy, so better left unsaid.
“You can’t tie yourself down,” Nick said. “This weekend. Saturday night. You and me. And you’ll forget all about mystery girl with no phone.”
It wasn’t worth explaining, but Jonas had other plans.
Jonas swiped his MetroCard before he realized he had left the apartment without his camera, something he almost never did. He thought about going back, losing the fare, having to swipe his card again, but the uptown train stopped right in front of him. The graffiti had been scrubbed off and only the faintest outline remained, lighter in color than the rest of the metal car, a blurry outline of the huge puffy lettering. The windows were scratched but paint free.
Jonas stepped inside, expecting exactly what he found: Laura sitting, waiting, just as she said she would be.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Laura told him.
Jonas lifted his brow. “So, how long?” It was Saturday morning now. It had been seven days.
The train jerked into motion.
But for Laura it had been longer, hadn’t it?
He had figured it out. Somehow time was moving faster for her. Her kiss was still warm on his lips. He had seen her just last weekend.
He hesitated. “So, when
did
you see me last?”
“Me? See you? Don’t you remember?”
She had no way to reach him. How many days had passed for her? How many weeks? No e-mail. No texting.
For a second he was seized with self-doubt, even jealousy for a world he knew nothing about and couldn’t visit, much less control. What did she do with her time, the in-between time? But he shook off the feelings. He was so glad to see her again. Her face, her smile.
“It was two weeks ago, wasn’t it?” she asked.
Jonas didn’t answer.
Laura went on: “Yeah, as much as my mom likes to get rid of me, the bus from Kingston costs a lot and it’s a long drive from Woodstock and we only have one
Jonas sat down on the very end of his mother’s bed, as far from her as he could. The shades were drawn, and it was dark. She used to get up and run Saturday mornings, rain or shine, all year long.
“Want me to make coffee?” he asked.
“That would be terrific.”
Jonas stood up.
“I am so lucky. You’re the best child any mother could ever hope to have. You know that, don’t you?” his mother said.
Jonas didn’t turn around. “Thanks, Mom,” he said. It was like a cruel joke.
The good part was he could make the coffee, get Lily her cereal, plop her in front of the TV, and slip out of the house without having to explain anything to his mother.
He headed straight for the subway station at Fifty-ninth Street.
Jonas now knew he could find Laura, not what time but
where.
Always on the same subway, on the uptown 6 train, sometimes the downtown,
sometimes
being the operative word. It took all of waiting, hit or miss, sitting in the station, but it was always the 6 train, the one with graffiti. The train with the artwork, the mess, the letters, tags, pictures, and color splashed all over it.
Jonas never knew he’d have the train schedule so clearly mapped in his head. He knew the routes and pretty much the entire timetable. He flew down the stairs into the darkness of the subway station, eyes wide open, drinking in all the available light.
“You’re not the falling-in-love type,” Nick had told him.
“I know I’m not,” Jonas agreed. For different reasons, they had both finished their math quiz early and were sitting in the faculty stairwell.
“Well, for someone who’s not the type, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about her.”
“And hanging out in the subway looking for her,” Jonas added.
“You’re shitting me! Is that where you’ve been? Is that why you never text me back?”
“No service down there.”
Nick smacked his friend in the arm. “You still don’t have her phone number?”
How could he explain? He couldn’t. It didn’t make sense. It sounded more than borderline crazy, so better left unsaid.
“You can’t tie yourself down,” Nick said. “This weekend. Saturday night. You and me. And you’ll forget all about mystery girl with no phone.”
It wasn’t worth explaining, but Jonas had other plans.
Jonas swiped his MetroCard before he realized he had left the apartment without his camera, something he almost never did. He thought about going back, losing the fare, having to swipe his card again, but the uptown train stopped right in front of him. The graffiti had been scrubbed off and only the faintest outline remained, lighter in color than the rest of the metal car, a blurry outline of the huge puffy lettering. The windows were scratched but paint free.
Jonas stepped inside, expecting exactly what he found: Laura sitting, waiting, just as she said she would be.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Laura told him.
Jonas lifted his brow. “So, how long?” It was Saturday morning now. It had been seven days.
The train jerked into motion.
But for Laura it had been longer, hadn’t it?
He had figured it out. Somehow time was moving faster for her. Her kiss was still warm on his lips. He had seen her just last weekend.
He hesitated. “So, when
did
you see me last?”
“Me? See you? Don’t you remember?”
She had no way to reach him. How many days had passed for her? How many weeks? No e-mail. No texting.
For a second he was seized with self-doubt, even jealousy for a world he knew nothing about and couldn’t visit, much less control. What did she do with her time, the in-between time? But he shook off the feelings. He was so glad to see her again. Her face, her smile.
“It was two weeks ago, wasn’t it?” she asked.
Jonas didn’t answer.
Laura went on: “Yeah, as much as my mom likes to get rid of me, the bus from Kingston costs a lot and it’s a long drive from Woodstock and we only have one
Similar Books
