The Tales of Our Lives

The Train Girl

There he sat, absorbed in his thoughts and daydreams. The train, which had sailed from Santa Cruz toward Central do Brasil, was not quite full. Although there were some people standing, there were still places to sit. Distracted he was, he did not know if he had reached his destination, or if there was still much left.

Anyway, it did not matter, almost every day he did the same route. Getting down to the correct station was already a practically mechanical procedure. If he paid more attention to his surroundings, he might have noticed that he had already taken that route with some of the faces there; however, probably if they replaced those people with potted plants, for example, it would not make a difference. Who knows, not even notice the strangeness of the situation.

But that changed that day. Something happened that made him awaken from the depths of his mind, his thoughts more complex and at the same time empty. Surely this was the first time it happened, or he did not remember seeing or experiencing something like that. What came to mind was that all those trips were always ashes. Just like the overcast days in the winter, nothing shone, nothing caught his eye. Yes, every day I saw people who were thin, ugly, fat, with tattoos, backpacking, the peddlers with their goods bumping into the passengers, the elderly, young adults, some teenagers, and some stinking people in the morning. But I had done this route so many times, with this same profile of people, that all had no faces, were just shapes and smells that were part of their daily journey.

However, when the doors of the train opened and she entered, at the same instant he awoke from his autopilot, from his "as high" state of mind as the Tibetan Buddhist monks. And as if he had fallen from the clouds at once, for he felt that way, right in that train car, sitting on that stool, he came to himself. In a fraction of a second, there he was at the side of people again. It was true, but now there was something among them that stood out, which had color and brilliance, and which, by the way, smelled very good. He was certain that it was the fragrance of her scent invading not only her nostrils but all the pores of her skin, which made him wake up and fall there.

She came in and sat down right in front of her. Her hair was black, her skin white, and she wore a dress as black as the color of her hair. The shoes ... No matter what they were or their color. She looked at his face again, for she had not yet seen him completely. She had come in with her head lowered, so she had not been able to see his eyes. They should be light gray or brown. He could not come to a conclusion. Depending on the way the light struck them, they changed color.

As if hypnotized, his eyes did not detach from the girl. She noticed that she was wearing headphones. What was the music you were listening to? Did he know? Did he like it? Could I sing to charm her? Could you say that you also liked that band or singer and talked about the whole trip and, who knows, at the end ask for the phone number?

A million situations and dialogues passed in his head. In most of them, he did well. She smiled, found it amusing, perhaps touching her hand or his leg. He would reciprocate the touch by placing his hand over hers. They smiled at each other and she lowered her face in disgust, so did he. But one thought, only one, made him sit in his place. That she would reject him or ignore him. What if he got up and went there and tried to pull a subject, and she turned her face? Or worse, change places, leaving him totally baffled? He could even make a scandal by calling him a pervert!

In his mind, now, a guesswork of everything that could happen was rolling. And now? All this without taking her eyes off her, who seemed to be oblivious to all these events, distracted, listening and enjoying her music. In an instant she seemed to stare at him. Not knowing what to do, he lowered his head and looked away. Then she looked again and there she was with her eyes on him. This time the boy kept his gaze and it was the girl who turned him away. Another or two quick exchanges of glances followed. In one of them, did she seem to give a microscopic smile, or was it her impression? At that very moment, another person who had just entered the room sat down next to the girl. There were no more empty spaces, now what? Now it was to wait for him to wander another space beside her, but if he did not wander? And if it were the season when he had to go down, or worse, the season when she was going down? He could pass from wherever he hopped, but she definitely would not.

Her apprehension grew. Now her doubts were whether she should go after her or not if she got up. His field of vision narrowed, narrowing. She was the focus, he could only see her. Everything else was blurry, foggy. At this moment, the train stopped at a station. He turned to look and see which station it was. When he returned to look forward, he saw an empty space, unoccupied. Her heart almost went to her mouth, she felt a tightness in her chest and a cold in her belly, all at the same time. Where she was? She had jumped off the train and he had not seen it. She had not taken the girl's eyes from the moment she got on the train. And in the only instant he'd turned aside just to see the station they were in, in a fraction of a second, she disappeared, disappeared. Damn time! Why did you look away from her? Why did they want to know what station they were in? He could have jumped there and sought her out; however, the shock was so great that, when he realized it, the door of the train closed and he walked again. Who was she? Where did it come from? Where did it go? What was his name? He would never know his name or his age.

For the rest of the trip he was cursing, lamenting in his thoughts all he could have done, that he could have acted faster, he could have done this or that, but now it was no good, it was already done, she already had gone away and he missed the opportunity to meet her. The most varied thoughts came to mind on this day. At night it was difficult to sleep.

The other day, there he was, at the same time, in the same wagon, in the same bank. Maybe she'd show up again? Perhaps he had appeared before and he had not noticed? But this time he would be attentive. She was so attentive that she noticed the little lady who always traveled by her side, carefully embroidering a dishcloth. He noticed the obese man, more to the left, who was traveling with a smile on his face, perhaps of satisfaction or something the boy did not know. He noticed that there was an all dressed guy who wore two cell phones, one to speak and the other to type in a very agile way. There were also the girls, uniformed students with large backpacks on their backs, but smiling and chattering, standing near the door to the right of the carriage.

Suddenly, he began to realize a whole life that was going on around him on that train. People coming and going every season. Some more serene, quiet, others much more agitated. The street vendors offering their products with the most varied and funny ways to bid. He paid attention to all this; however, until then, nothing of that girl. It had been ten or eleven days already and nothing.

Thirty, fifty days passed, and there was no sign. Three months and nothing from her. To the point where he began to question whether it really existed or had been an invention of his head. Maybe a dream. Perhaps he slept during the trip and dreamed it all. In fact, after that, he even dreamed about the girl a few times. Once, he had dreamed that she had tossed him a piece of paper with the telephone number, another she had smiled at and sent him a kiss. Maybe that explained everything, the fact that he had never seen her there after that day. It could only be a dream. And there he was on that train again, almost every day. I did not know when that would be. He could not remember exactly when he'd started picking him up to go to work, and he did not even know when to stop picking him up. In the course of the day, everything would turn gray again, with people losing their characteristics and gaining forms and smells: fat, thin, old ...