𝑹𝑬𝑭𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺

𝐈

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄,
'ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ'

𝐘𝐕𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑

The train station pulsed with the rhythm of rushing footsteps and murmured conversations, an array of suits and dresses weaving through the congested crowd of young and new folk. The air was thick with the smell of coal smoke and brewed coffee in the grasps of the ongoers hands.

A crowd of women, all different in their own way, were gathered in the middle of the platform of the Chicago Union Station. Shouting a variety of anti-war propaganda quotes, the women each held their own sign which attempted to persuade the above average individuals to stop the war.

Dispersed from the ceiling, calls of train departures couldn't even attempt to drown out the determined women. "This is it baby," John sighed as we approached his train. He pressed a kiss on my forehead, brushing the curled bangs out of my face.

John pulled me into a tight hug by my waist. He brung his lips towards my ear. With one ear against his chest I could hear his faint heartbeat. On the forefront he seemed very content, but his inside gave the tough act all away.

"You be good now, okay?" I struggled to nod my head against his clothed chest. John pulled away and gestured towards the sign in my hand.

"You better hurry, don't want you to miss the protest or whatever they have going on over there." He chuckled, pulling the sign out of my hand to get a clear look at it. The sign read "Bring the troops home." in red bold lettering that decorated the board.

"I know John, but let me watch you get on the train at least?" I knew that every romantic feeling I felt for the young man was forced. He was a fine gentleman that my parent's had set me up with.

John came from wealth, and in my family that was all that mattered. I of course went along with my parents' established plans because I knew they simply wanted what was best for me. John looked down at me lovingly before boarding the train with the other male passengers.

The American troops in Vietnam weren't doing well so the U.S. decided to deploy more young men, ages eighteen to twenty-five to northern Vietnam. I watched John through the small windows of the train.

He walked into the compartment with an adjacent window to where I was standing. I waved at him as best as I could despite the nagging citizens rushing towards their destinations. John opened his compartment window and threw his hat down at me.

I reached to catch it, on the tips of my heeled dress shoes before it could get intercepted by another force. The train conductor blew the horn indicating that it was ready to depart. John closed his window and I too, felt a close within myself.

John gave me one last glance, he and I both knew that this would be the last time we see each other.

I didn't feel for John in the romantic way that everyone had thought. That connection between us wasn't there. Despite that, I put on a mask to hide how I really felt about him from my parents.

I wanted to make my goodbye to him as meaningful as the other women did with their loved ones, but I knew I didn't feel anything close to how I was displaying it.

I inched through the crowd and over to the other side of the platform to join the anti-war protesters. With my hand crafted sign in hand, I thrusted it up just as the rest of the women had done.

I needed to show John there was some care in the distant void in my heart when it came to him.

The women got louder with every chant. Their powerful voices drown the chatter of others. My protests went quiet as in the distance I noticed the officer at the corner platform march towards our crowd. A megaphone in one hand, and a baton in the other, he brought the megaphone up to his lips.

"Alright ladies, that's enough for today!" the suited officer called out. He waved his baton through the air, an intimidation tactic to disperse the crowd. His wrinkled face scrunched up while he stood in the center.

Angry mutters and mumbles were heard as the women left their signs on the ground. "Keep it moving!" The older man called out again, attempting to make way for the busy people.

I brung my sign down, wanting to just go home now that John's train had left anyway. I felt like there was no need for me to pretend anymore.

I stop in my tracks as I heard a faint cry from a woman in the near distance. "I'm going to miss you dearly, James!" My head jerked towards the direction. Her voice trembled with heartbreak, it was like I was the only one who could hear her at that moment.

She stood in front of a train window, looking up at her lover just as I had done moments before. She waved at him aggressively, her hand covering her mouth to drown her cries. My feet started walking towards her, as if they had a mind of their own. I felt compelled to be near her.

I felt obligated to comfort her despite not knowing her. As I walked closer I felt more drawn to her.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" I whispered, placing a hand on her back. The woman shivered under the unexpected touch. She looked at me with glossy eyes. She had the most beautiful eyes. Her irises looked like planets.

I felt encapsulated by her gaze. "He's gone."

She sobbed, turning around to lay her head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her, "It's going to be okay." I knew things weren't going to be okay. In actuality, I had no idea how she truly felt. I couldn't fake this type of sadness for John even if I had tried.

"Would you like to sit down?" I attempted to ease her out of the crowd and into a safer space. The brown eyed woman lifted her head off of my shoulder. She gingerly wiped her tears away and released herself from my grasp.

"No, really it's okay." She stuttered, brushing her permed hair out of her face. She hurried away from me, eager to get to a different destination. I was left confused as I watched her brush past the crowds.

I opened my mouth to call out to her, realizing I knew nothing about this woman. The mysterious woman was out of my sight, but her face was imprinted in my mind.

I stepped into the grand foyer of my family's home, the crystal chandelier above casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the polished marble floor. The soft hum of jazz floated from the living room, where my parents were seated.

The plush velvet drapes framed the windows, and the soft glow of table lamps illuminated the opulent furnishings. I walked into the living room and sat on the soft cushioned couch across from my mother and father.

"You sent John off well I presume?" My mother questioned, taking a slip from her wine glass in between the tips of her fingers. I forced a tight smile as I looked from my mother to my father.

"Yes, of course, mother." My father looked at me and hummed. He and my mother were big on treating men with respect.

"You start your first day at the diner tomorrow, right?" My father inquired, his voice deep and questioning.

My family has always consisted of workaholics. People with good work ethic who always provided for their families, so it was only natural that my father wanted me employed at all times until I married. "Yes father."

I ran my fingers over the cushions, toying with the seam of the fabric. "You should go to bed then." My father started, nodding his head towards the stairs. He wasn't the kind of man to suggest anything, if he said it, he wanted it done

"You're right, goodnight mother, father." I said through my teeth. My smile didn't fade until my back was turned away from the pair.

𝙍𝙀𝙁𝙇𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎
© cybristic, 2024