Three stops, northbound

Hsssssh – calump.

The doors slid open as the breeze that chased the train into the station brushed by. Cold air from the cabin greeted the passengers, quietly, quickly, looking and finding seats. The swell of rush hour had almost passed and a few odd seats were left unoccupied. Some stood nevertheless.

A man in a suit sat, reading over a handful of loose papers. Part of a suit; the tie hung from a pocket of a jacket that covered a briefcase in his lap. A couple of posters mounted on foamcore were wedged between his seat and the wall.

A man with an unkempt gray beard sat two seats up. As he passed so did the smell of stale liquor. The businessman looked up from his reading with an artificial smile.

A woman in crisp black cotton pants and cassock sat across from the businessman. Her eyes were a pale lapis and with her came a strong, but pleasant smell of sandalwood. She carried the smell of incense. The businessman smiled with some sincerity. The woman was older, with gray streaks in coarse black and well kept hair. Her stature was austere, near emotionless.

A young woman came rushing in as the doors threatened to close. She wore a pressed linen pantsuit, nice, but showing the wear of a second-hand store. She came in, quickly assessing the seating and turning back to help another young woman with a stroller and a healthy baby girl.

The seat next to the businessman was empty and he began to gather his things. The first girl looked to him and grabbed the handrail. It was understood she would stand and he settled back to his reading. The baby girl in the stroller, maybe not two years old, was sitting quite erect, with curious eyes, wide, darting from image to image, motion to motion. She smiled with her lips tight together, a genuine smile, from round cheek to round cheek.

Her gaze found the businessman who was already playing ‘peek-a-boo’ from behind the handful of papers he had been reading. He caught her eyes and her face bloomed with excitement.

Hsssssh – calump. The doors slid shut. The two young girls held the stroller, clutching the stainless steel handrails as the train lurched, continuing its journey north.

The cabin was, as usual, noisy. Not with conversation, other than the few talking to invisible partners on cell phones, but with the noise of the tracks and the train against them. Many riders wore headphones, listening to whatever and staring vacuously into space. Others read books and papers.

A boisterous voice grew from the next cabin. It preceded a large man through the narrow accordion passageway joining the cars. He was solid on his feet, swaying as the train shook, speeding forward. He didn’t hold the handrail. He was anchored.

He held a Bible. He held it by the spine; the well read pages fanned the air as he shook it at the unsuspecting audience, wielding it as a club, as an almighty sword.

“… And the word of God, brought us by King James, the word by which you may find redemption, find the sanctuary of heaven for your mortal soul.”

His deep voice bellowed from his large chest clearly over the din and hiss and clatter of the rail.

“Without the word of God you, you are all sure to burn in hell!” He threatened his congregation. “Without the grace of God, you are surely condemned to burn!”

“Shut up, ole man,” shouted someone from the crowd.

“Blasphemers,” his voice grew in threat and volume. He held his book at arm length and raised it to heaven but was stopped by the cabin roof. The train lurched to a stop.

Hsssssh – calump.

A couple of passengers stood and made their way to the door, moving as they could around the evangelist who stood his ground. One looked down as she passed. The other stared with contempt. The baby smiled.

“You, who have not sought the salvation of the lord, you will surely suffer the burning fires of hell and damnation!”

The train took on more northbound passengers, becoming quite full.

Hsssssh -calump.

All the seats were occupied. The reverend preached to a full house.

“Shut-up!” again.

“Christ is your savior, his father sent him to die on the cross. He died for your sins,” his voice lowered, “and sinners you are.”

The crowded cabin shook. Many passengers standing now, surrounding the two young women, crowding the man with the bible and the big voice, but not by choice. The newcomers looked at first with curiosity and then to the other passengers with hope of explanation.

“When do we get off?” one young women leaned over the stroller, asking the other.

“Next stop, next stop.”

She tightened her grip on the handrail as the train came through a rough spot. The businessman helped steady the stroller, looking up with a sympathetic smile.

The baby beamed. The preacher bellowed.

Most passengers tried to pretend they couldn’t hear what was going on but even loud music and headphones wouldn’t drown the sermon.

“… The prophet Abraham gave his own son in obedience to God, almighty God. In the word of God he secured his place in heaven.”

The air itself begged for pause, a moment of reflection, but no.

Hsssssh – calump.

The doors slid open. Two uniformed police officers stepped onboard. One took the man by the elbow, escorting him off the train. He went easily, they’d done this before.

“You’ll burn in hell, all you sinners, you’ll burn in hell.” He could be heard from the platform. “Without the word of God,” he shook his bible at the train, “you’ll burn in hell!”

“This is our stop,” followed a deep sigh. The two young women lowered the stroller and smiling and unaware baby down the steps and onto the platform.

Hsssssh -calump, and the train lurched forward.