Silas

Silas

I was standing, staring out the window of a stationary subway car, when whoosh! the car on the opposite track came to an abrupt halt and I was face to face with someone not three feet away, looking out the window back at me. We locked eyes.

Isolated in our own metal cylinders, going in opposite directions we were momentarily connected by a crackling high-voltage pulse. I could not look away. It was physical, I could not will my eyeballs to move. We had tasered each other!

I named him Silas, tall and sturdy, his rugged face framed by wild dark hair, his eyes black as charcoal. He awakened a carnal longing in me.

From then on, every time I got on the subway I always found that spot by the door facing the opposite track in the hope that a train would stop in front of me, that he would be there again. I fantasized about seeing him and somehow connecting with him, as if lightening would strike again in that very same spot. I even carried a note that I intended to hold up against the glass for him to see. ‘CALL ME’ it said, with my number scrawled in large numerals.

Day after day I watched for him. Sometimes I saw a man of his stature, wearing a hoodie, facing away from me so I could not see his eyes or hair. With his back pressed against the window I could discern his shoulder blades and the muscularity of his back. The tease was excruciating. I willed him to turn around, to reveal himself, my petty little note between my fingers, inviting him to call me. All to no avail. I saw him again another day in the same hoodie, same posture, his back to me. I forced my stare to make him turn and he did shift his stance a quarter turn. His deltoid crushed against the glass but his hoodie still hid his face. Silas see me! But, whoosh! And he was gone.

Then on another day when the car came to a stop I saw him again. He was moving toward the door to exit. I pushed through the crowd desperate to get off the train. I flung my purse between the closing doors forcing them to open and I dashed down the platform, up the escalator and over to the southbound platform, which by then was deserted. Undaunted, I scaled the steps two at a time to street level. I thought I saw him a block away and foolishly I yelled out, SILAS, WAIT!

After that, I saw him everywhere I went: a ghost in the crowd; a passenger in a passing car; flitting by me on a bicycle; completely oblivious of me.

Mundane days followed by humdrum nights filled my life with no respite from the longing for him.

∞

After years of riding on public transit I got my first car, a used mustard yellow Toyota Corolla. I was finally free of the jostling crowds at rush hour desperate to get on the train as if it were their last chance to escape whatever they were fleeing. Being part of that herd had been soul crushing­ ─ my identity obliterated by the crowd. Now, in my own private metal container I was safe from the contamination of the masses. But I still maintained the acute vigilance it took to watch for him.

I loved to drive and took every opportunity to be at the wheel. I thrilled at the freedom and independence it gave me, but missed the anticipation of seeing those eyes again. Sometimes I would go for long nocturnal drives on deserted autoroutes, windows open, music blaring, no one caring, singing madly, exhilarated by speed. Or I would take long drives on isolated country roads through stretches of forest where dappling light danced strobe-like around me, the energy of it piercing through me like Silas’ eyes.

The mystery of him still haunts me and I am compelled to continue my futile search. So on one of my drives I stop in the middle of nowhere, get out and start walking between the trees, in and out of sunbeams, feeling hot and cold and hot again, transient shivers up my spine. I feel a distinct quiddity hovering ─ his body passing mine, whoosh! He is here! I spin around. Where is he? No not here, there! Evasively shape-shifting, not really anywhere. Undeterred I follow my senses, sniffing the air, touching the tree trunks, keenly watching for the slightest motion. A leaf is an ear, branches are limbs, a spider’s web is his touch, giving me shivers. He toys with me but I don’t care.

Shadows are lengthening, it’s becoming dark. Where am I? Wait, was that a spark? Like a pied piper he beckons me, I follow deeper into the woods. Where am I? I reel, I spin, I weave and twirl. Whirling, giddy, getting dizzy. Silas save me!

No moon tonight, it’s dark as hell. I find a stump to sit a spell. I dare not move, frozen on my stool of wood. A baby screams blood curdling cries, so I move toward the sound to find out why there is a baby in the woods. Stumbling on roots and forest debris I see yellow eyes locked onto me. Is it you Silas? A-ooo, a-ooo a-ooo. The wind picks up hurling branches at me. Lightning flashes allowing brief glimpses at what might be lurking in the underbrush. Beetles, spiders, mice and voles. Slithering snakes and burrowing badgers, and the eerie hoots of owls surround me.

Thunder crashes so close I feel it in my core. A sense of panic rises among the animals, and in me. Which way out? I have no clue. Silas where are you? Help me please! Huge raindrops like bomblets hit me hard. The detritus beneath my feet turns slimy. I slip and fall and can’t get up. Critters scamper over me as if I was just another log, hysterically racing to find shelter. I am worn out, I close my eyes.

∞

All sound is muted. I open my eyes and look up to see rays of brilliant light filtering through the filigree of the canopy. One is a spotlight on me. I rise to its promise and see Silas smiling down at me. He extends a hand, which I take and hold tight. I rise up with him into that brilliant, heavenly light and I am happy.