A very windy Tuesday night in March, after seeing a Russian ballet performing Swan Lake, three attractive young women in their early twenties get on the train from Newcastle back to Durham. They find three seats that are close enough together, one right behind the next. Across the narrow hallway sits a middle-aged man who smiles politely at them as they are seated. One of the girls, the one sitting closest to the man, continues to be on a reverie about the muscular legs of those strong Russian men, who were totally wearing make-up. The girl in question, Elizabeth, thus smiles back at the balding man as she asks herself why did she always think that ballets had speeches. The man takes the smile as an open invitation for conversation and begins uttering what can be considered as either drunken remarks or regular Geordie speech.
'Oh, have you had a lovely time today, love?' he asks, or at least that's what it sounds like. Elizabeth engagingly answers in the affirmative, while her companions look at each other with worrying looks. Ria, sitting on the last seat of the cart, stares intently at Cristina, who only shakes her head and sighs.
'Do you study in Durham? What do you study? What?'
'Chemistry, she studies Chemistry,' Cristina replies on behalf of Elizabeth, who always enunciates her words properly so the only reason why someone would not be able to understand her is because he is drunk, deaf, or--in the case of England--both.
'Oh, that's great! I have a son who is around your age who is going to XYZ Uni. What about you?'
'Liter'ture,' replies the big Texan, who had thought about taking her heavy black coat off--the train being so warm and all--but didn't want to give the chatty chap the wrong impression. Feeling torn between wanting to talk to Ria behind her and attempting to save Elizabeth from her own clueless self, Cristina attentively listens to the man as he interrogates her friend.
'Do you like Durham?'
'Yes, it's lovely.'
'What about you?'
'Yeah, I love Durham, a lot.'
'But isn't it like too quiet?'
'No, it's fine. It's nice.'
'Do you girls party on the weekend? Do you go to clubs?'
'No, not really.'
'You can't really talk to people in clubs.'
'Well, I was at Klute's the other night...' the man states with an air of pride.
Cristina quickly turns to Ria, who is witnessing the oddest conversation in history from the commodity of her seat. Elizabeth attentively listens to the man's story.
'I don't understand half of the stuff this guy's saying, Ria.'
'He's crazy, mon,' says the Trinidadian.
'So you girls don't drink?'
'Once in a while, but don't get drunk.'
'Yeah, it's very expensive.'
'Well, do you smoke?'
'No.'
'No, it's a dirty habit.'
'Do you like to dance?'
'Yeah, sure.'
'I suppose...'
'But you must have some bad habits, right?'
'Hmm...' Elizabeth replies as she begins an intensive search of her memory for a habit that would make her sound less of a normal person and more like a naughty girl.
'No, we don't,' Cristina interposes, losing her patience.
'Ah, well, you are going to make a very fine wife,' the creeper says--exclusively to Elizabeth--as he smiles.
'Oh no...'
'Yikes!'
'Well, tell me, do you have boyfriends?'
'No,' Elizabeth answers bluntly. Cristina, meanwhile, is figuratively hitting her head against a wall in despair because Elizabeth could have totally saved herself from this borderline sexual harassment if only she would have lied and said she has a hot atomic-physicist boyfriend who looks like Mark Ruffalo waiting for her in her flat with a beautiful homemade five-course dinner.
Why does Elizabeth have to be so honest all the time? Cristina doesn't understand this, but she manages to blurt out 'oh no, no boyfriends, we don't have time for that, too much studying, too much.' Cristina cannot take it anymore: the train feels like it's a pot full of water and they are just a bunch of helpless lobsters slowly boiling in misery, regretting all their bad decisions, and thinking of all their loved ones they never said "I love you" to. Is this a terrorist attack? No, but it sure is making everyone as uncomfortable as when they show you that footage of childbirth in Health class or when your supervisor at work audibly farts because he has his headphones on and doesn't realize how loud he's being.
By this point, Cristina has turned to Ria to converse. But the conversation revolves around the eeriness of this whole ten-minute episode. Why did God allow that horrifying man of bad teeth near them tonight? Why was the train so smelly? Why--by Jove--has Adele not released a new album? All these questions assault Cristina as she catches a snippet of conversation that turns her blood cold.
'Yes, I haven't seen my little girl in over six months now!'
'Oh no, why is that?'
'Well, I have been busy taking a class.'
'Oh, what kind of class?'
'It's a class for... err.... management.'
'Oh, that's great! But I don't get it, why would the class prevent you from seeing your daughter?'
'Well...because I can only see my daughter after I've taken it.'
'But, like... I don't get it... why?'
Cristina closes her eyes slowly and sighs. Why, oh why. God Almighty save us all. Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. No.
'Well', the man breathes heavily, defeated, 'a few years ago I had a problem with my ex-wife. Her boyfriend tried to prevent me from seeing my daughter, so I almost beat him to death. I was in jail for four years. This class I have to take is an anger management course.'
'Oh...' is all Elizabeth can manage to say, after inadvertently pushing the man to make a full confession. Cristina, meanwhile, is regretting not having gone to confession before being murdered by a middle-age British ex-con. But that thought passes quickly to propel her into action: she calls one of her flatmates to have one of them come to the train station to duel with the almost-killer to protect them (or to just come to pick them up). But her flatmate never answers the phone. They are on their own.
At this point, the train has begun stopping. They are in Durham. Time to flee! The man, unfortunately, is also getting off at this stop and motions Elizabeth towards the door. Cristina pretends to be moving right behind them and, when the guy begins walking, grabs Elizabeth and takes her (and Ria) out through the back door of the cart. When they step out into the platform and feel the chill of the mid-March wind, Cristina--with freakishly large fear eyes-- commands the other two to wait until the man walks away. Then they begin the journey home, walking in their high heels as if they were avoiding land mines (they had walked a lot in Newcastle and their ankles were very tired).
As they stroll along the quiet streets of Durham, Cristina can't help but to sarcastically scoff 'well, that was not creepy at all!'
'What do you mean?' Elizabeth wonders.
'WHAT? That man was hitting on you!'
'No he wasn't. He was just being nice.'
 |
| This is what Cristina would have done to the man if she had a phonebook close by. |
It was then that Cristina and Ria realized that they should not let Elizabeth near the stove at home and should have 'the talk' with her--you know, the one about not accepting candy or cookies from strangers.
