Hemingway Imitation: The End of Something
His grandfather used to tell him stories about the subway at the turn of the century. How men lay miles of track beneath the earth and the first train engulfed its tunnels and passengers with soot. The subway had always been filthy. Nothing had changed since then except empty soda bottles and old newspapers replaced the ash. No one ever bothered to clean it. It didn’t matter to them.
From the station platform, Ben and Dianne watched a rat dart out from behind a rail. It was hot down here and sweat soaked into his shirt. It clung to him. He did not like it. He shifted his feet and twisted his MetroCard with his hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said.
She was quiet for a minute, coiling her fingers around her purse straps. Her knuckles turned white until she relaxed them and let go. By then a few more people joined them on the platform, but the train still had not come.
“I had a good time tonight. I really liked the movie. Especially, at the end with Keanu and Sandra. Didn’t you like it?” Dianne said happily.
Somebody pushed against him. The platform was getting crowded now.
“Sure. Because there’s always a happy ending.”
“Don’t be like that. Please, Ben. Don’t.”
“I can’t help it,” he said. “I’m just so tired. Let’s not talk anymore.”
“You don’t mean that. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It feels like we’re going nowhere. I’m going nowhere.”
Dianne did not say anything else and they waited in silence. Soon a faint light shined off the wall tiles. When he looked up from his shoes, her back was to him, facing the subway car that pulled into the station.
“I’m going to Christine’s tonight. Start looking at the classifieds tomorrow,” Dianne called to him.
She piled into the car with the crowd and grabbed onto the overhead rail. He watched the doors closing on her, the train pulling out of the station, and her body swaying with the movements of the train.
He sunk against a column and watched the rest of the subway cars pass by.