I wandered like a drunk, careening from street to street, bumping into people and brick walls, and neglected to notice or excuse myself to either. I took little to no care crossing streets, but through some curse of luck, suffered no ‘accidents.’ A bridge tempted me with the tumultuous current boiling below it. What I really wanted was for Root to come to me. So I bided my time and ‘surfed,’ but never had the pain of waiting pressed so deep.
I spotted a sign for the train station and tried to follow, only to find myself caught in a tangle of alleys bounded by walls of brick and concrete stone that mixed and matched building materials in a slap-dash fashion, as if the city had been assembled a little piece at a time with whatever was lying around at the moment.
A row of small cars were parked perpendicular to the street here, crammed into every possible space. I passed a TJ Maxx that made me wonder for a moment whether I really was in Scotland.
I found the tracks and followed them to a hangar-like structure overarching the main station. It had vaulted, windowed ceilings to help remind travelers of the bad weather outside.
The ticketing and waiting area reminded me of a hospital with its white tile floors and barebones furnishing. On second thought, if a provincial portal to Heaven had a train station, it would probably look something like Inverness—humble, unpretentious but gleaming with the promise of better destinations.
A cheery train with a yellow nose and pulling red-striped cars chugged away from the platform just as I wandered in. I gathered from the board that it was headed for Edinburgh. Just as well. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave just yet, because if I left Inverness now, it would be for good.
There were seats available here and there in the waiting area but I had no desire to be around people, so I crumpled myself into a ball behind a water fountain in the far corner of the station, and tried to sort out the storm raging in my brain.
So Karla didn’t want me in her life. That was clear and that was that. I had no Plan B. So what was I supposed to do now? I didn’t have enough money to get back to Florida, not that I had any reason to go back there in the first place.
I guess I could find some menial under-the-table job, landscaping maybe, where my immigration status didn’t matter. That would enable me to scratch out an existence somewhere here in the UK, where I could at least speak the language. But to what end? What kind of life would that be?
Back to Rome, perhaps? I had never felt more alive than when I had been in Rome. But that was when I still believed finding Karla would be its own award. I never fathomed it would lead to a flat-out rejection.
So in short, I was in Limbo. I could do nothing but coast on the fumes of my existence. If fate was merciful, it would snuff me out without my having to lift a finger.
I sank against the tiled wall, begging for the roots to come and claim me. I hoped for a pod in the deepest, darkest lair of the meanest, hungriest Reaper.
I waited and waited, but not the slightest inkling of Root came to me. Were they toying with me? Would they not be satisfied until I had been driven to the lowest of possible lows. But why? Were they simply evil?
Maybe they would not come because I was still too close to my dreams. Karla and Ardconnel Terrace were only a few blocks away. Did they sense that I harbored some slight and unconscious hope that she would reconsider and come looking for me? Or that she would respond differently the next time I appeared at her door? Was I cursing myself with some subtle and subliminal optimism?
Maybe I had to get as far away from her as possible to really make my depression sink its teeth. Root was my only recourse other than death, and I was beginning to question which might be the better option.
A security guard came by and rousted me from my corner. He was good-natured about it. He just didn’t want me mucking about on the floor. I had to show him my cash to have him let me remain in the station. Otherwise he would have booted me out the door like some bum.
I orbited around the ticket booth for a while, while I clung to the desperate notion of going back for another try at convincing Karla. Either that or leaping onto the tracks in front of the 4:55 from Aberdeen. Ticket or leap, it would be same end result. Both would take me farther from Karla, so I did nothing for the moment but pace and wander.
Of course, there would be another one of those lone, young men hanging out by the coffee stand. There was one in every station in Europe, after all. He was in his mid 20s, with short hair. He looked bored, but his gaze seemed to wander dutifully to every face that wandered past. But never mind him, I wondered what people wondered about me.
I found a spot on a bench vacated by an older woman who had gotten up to greet someone stepping off the Aberdeen train. The security guard kept looking my way. Had he noticed that I had yet to buy a ticket? I hoped he wasn’t going to hassle me until I had the proof in my hand to show him.
I sighed and thought again of Karla, coming to the realization that there was no way in hell I would be leaving Inverness as long as she remained here. Wherever she was, that was where I wanted to be.
I drew solace from knowing that at least she was alive and healthy on this side of life. Things could be worse. Though her home life might be terrifying, her will remained strong. At least she managed to get out of the house now and then. She got to feel raindrops, smell lilacs and eat fresh-baked bread.
The more positives I defined for her, the sadder I became, for the paltry life she led compared to what it could be with me. And yet I was powerless to change it.
That guy at the coffee stand, he was looking at me now and he had taken out his phone. He tried not to stare, but I could tell that I was a person of considerable interest to him. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I realized that I had seen him before on the platform at Edinburgh when I had gotten off the train by mistake.
I was struck with the urge to flee, but before I could rise, I sank into that oaken bench and became one with the wood. Its grain became the grain of my flesh as I plummeted into Root.
