Commute

Avery looked down at her watch. The small hand seemed to be moving slower than normal, and she still couldn’t hear the familiar echo of her train in the distance. She had already been standing in her current position for a half-hour.

Of all days for the Red Line to be late, this was possibly the worst. It had been six weeks since she had lost her job, and Avery finally had a job interview today. Now she was running late, and her only hope of making it on-time was for this train to get to her promptly.

Impatiently, she looked around. There were dozens of people, all of which seemed to be having the same visceral reactions.

One man, probably in his fifties, hairs graying on his head, tapped his toes against the worn clay tiles of the floor. It was loud enough to echo through the station.

There was also a mother attempting to sooth a crying baby, a man explaining loudly on his cell phone about why he was late for a meeting, and a priest doing his best to look stoic amongst the chaos.

This symphony of annoyance was finally, mercifully, interrupted by a screech and howl from something in the bowels of the tunnel to Avery’s right, and hope suddenly resurfaced in her. She could feel her heartbeat intensify.

Every eye on the platform moved toward the abyssal darkness of the shaft. It was as if they thought staring at the hole was going to make the train arrive quicker, and even the baby stopped crying to will its arrival.

A light soon appeared in the black; a beacon of possibility. Everyone, including Avery, stepped forward in preparation for boarding. There was no time to waste, and the quicker they got on, the quicker they could all get to their destinations.

“Okay, looks like I will be in shortly,” the man on the phone said. “I will see you soon.” He hung up the phone, just as the train was emerging from its labyrinth… and not slowing down.

It just kept going. It wasn’t the Red Line. It was the Blue Line. According to the board behind Avery, the Blue Line was right on time, and should have arrived after the Red Line.

“Oh, so close,” the priest muttered, doing his best to reign in his frustration.

The smell of O-zone had now filled the air, replacing the feeling of hope. Avery was now going to need a miracle to make it to her interview on time, and she wasn’t even sure the priest would have been able to help with that.

To make matters worse, startled by the sudden rush of noise and air, the baby began to cry again. This time he was loud enough to drown out any shoe tapping, and it shook the various directional and informational signs hanging from the dank ceiling.

This was supposed to be such a great day, but it was quickly turning into a disaster for Avery. Regardless, she needed a job, and she was going to have to give this opportunity everything she’s got. Determination welled up inside her.

There it was again. The sounds of metal on metal. Finally, it looked like she was going to get a chance as her train slowly made its way through the tunnel. Very slowly. The sound was entirely different from the previous train. This was a much more methodical and lumbering noise.

It didn’t take much for The Red Line to stop. It emerged from the tunnel like a turtle’s head, and then it simply rolled, brakeless, into position.

Avery dashed onto a car as soon as the corrugated doors slid open. This hurry up and wait situation resulted in her standing aboard the terrifically packed wagon, right along with many other annoyed and desperate commuters.

Eventually the doors closed, and the subway began to roll forward. It didn’t begin with much of a jolt, and no one had even needed to hold onto anything. The acceleration was so gradual, it was hard to even tell they were moving unless you looked out the window. Once they were back inside the tunnel, and the exterior of their carriage was inky black, there was no telling how fast or how snail-like they were.

To busy herself, Avery looked around. She couldn’t see much, as the cabin lights were hardly working, but she could see the priest, who was probably in his sixties, had been given a seat by someone.

The man who had been on his phone was now standing a few feet away, looking down at the weather on his phone.

The baby was once again wailing, filling the interior of the space with a never-ending and ear-piercing, reminder of their plight.

There were plenty of new faces around now. A woman in nurse's scrubs, probably fresh off a shift, was dozing in a seat behind Avery. A construction worker, still wearing his hardhat, was nursing a stained-paper cup of coffee. A bespectacled teenager was trying to get some reading done in the dim light, holding the book near one of the few working lamps.

Just as a little girl in her mother’s lap had caught Avery looking, everyone felt a lurch. Then, the car emerged like toothpaste from a tube, and came to rest in front of another massive crowd of waiting onlookers.

Avery flooded out with the rest of the throng, and then she immediately split from the pack. She then headed toward the tallest building in view, looking at her watch as she went. It was going to be close.

That’s when Avery broke into a near run. Her high heels weren’t made for this kind of activity, but she kept to the balls of her front feet. Her long auburn hair, done in some tight spirals, was now flowing behind her. Click, click, click.

The whole street of cars and pedestrians gave her strange looks, but this was her only chance. The minutes and seconds on her watch were ticking painfully away at an ever-rapid pace now.

There it was. The building’s full exterior was in view. Avery could see the main entryway. The glass panels of the facade were reflecting the sun directly into her eyes, but she couldn’t slow down.

She crossed a large paver plaza before arriving at the main entrance of the building. The large revolving doors were swiveling before her. Avery was sweaty, her feet hurt, she was thirsty, and one of her heels might be loose, but she had made it.

Choosing the right door, Avery pushed through and into the structure. Before her was an enormous lobby. At the far end were a bank of four glass elevators that ascended up to the offices above. In front of those, sitting beneath the four-story-tall ceiling, was the reception desk.

Avery walked toward the desks, stepping over a bridge that crossed a coy pond filled with white and orange fish. A waterfall gurgled and splashed nearby.

“Good afternoon,” Avery greeted, adjusting herself quickly. “I’m here for an interview with Mr. Davidson.”

The receptionist stared at her blankly. It was like Avery didn’t even exist. As if she were translucent.

“I’m sorry,” Avery resumed, thinking maybe she hadn’t been heard the first time. “I am running a little late. My train was way behind today.”

The receptionist looked away for a moment and squirmed in her chair uncomfortably. Then she resumed looking at Avery with a deep-set frown on her face.

“You just missed him, dear,” the receptionist admitted. “He had been waiting, but I know he had to get home to get his kids off the bus. Could only have been 5 or so minutes ago. ”

Avery nodded, slowly, and then looked down at her feet, dejected, her high heels scuffed from her previous attempt at punctuality.

Finally, defeated by the day, she turned around and walked out the main doors. The sun was just beginning to set in the west, and once again, Avery was going to have to catch the Red Line.