The man sat in the chair but he sat weird. Weird, at the least, is a man who wears a pair of stale jeans and a pale plaid jacket in the middle of winter. Poor, would be another good adjective, if it were not for the brand new white Reeboks on his feet, the kind that you’d get made fun for in high school. They were too big, too gaudy, and too white, just like his eyes which stared at a young girl two plastic seats to the front left of Mary and Ted.
The young girl looked uncomfortable, like someone was breathing on her. The breath inched closer. It soaked past the chairs, one plastic pollyp after the next, until it reached the back of the girl’s neck like cancer. The girl shuddered and Ted sat up a little straighter as his arm slipped away from Mary’s back. He made a cough to attract the man’s attention, but it went by unnoticed, at least to the jacketed man. The young girl twisted her neck 45 degrees with a furtive glance, her peripherals pointed toward the man. Her neck snapped back as she caught the stare head on. She projected it up to the Stop Display, 94th Street and France Ave., she was only two away from 98th Street, Home, so she reached underneath her seat for her purse.
Ted looked up to and saw the 94th twinkle like a red Christmas light, he was only one stop away. He turned to see the young girl reaching for her stuff. Her stuff was artsy, with decorative purples and greens patches outlined by sequins, but it didn’t feel gaudy. It actually felt right, mixed with her burnt India ensemble: a rusty orange sweater, a yellow curry scarf, and a tight pair of fine-ribbed maroon courdaroys that hugged her healthy thighs into compact packages.
Mary began to motion. Her eyes pointed toward the glowing sign and she slipped her fingers around the window handle to get up. Ted sat as Mary made a commotion to get up, but even with the motion, Ted sat and watched as the man’s gaze slowly suffocated the young girl. Mary scooped her hand into Ted’s armpit like he was six years old and it was time to go.
“Honey, let’s wait,” Ted said as he looked at the man, paying no attention to Mary.
“But it’s our stop, we’ll have to wait in the cold if we don’t get off,” she pointed out the cold weather by pulling her jacket tighter.
“We can call a cab. I’m not getting off,” He said resolutely. His eyes were still fixed on the man as Mary caught the mood. She sat down and pulled Ted closer, the young girl’s fear was now shared as the bus pulled past Ted and Mary’s stop. The 98th Street sign had just flicked on as the young girl made a move to get up. The older man got up to and moved toward the girl.
His arms moved so fast that Ted and Mary did not see it until he held her shoulders in place against the dimpled walls. The man’s gassy breath bled fuck fuel across her face planted cheek. Her cheek mashed against the metal like it needed the contact, scared of the distance between her and the man’s face, the two inches she gained was not enough and she continued to press her face against the steel. She could see someone in the background, a man and his wife stood up with their phones out.
“Get the fuck off her or I’m calling the police,” a voice boomed from two seats away. Her face was still stuck to the wall like it had licked a frozen door handle, and the man continued to breath on her while he held her shoulders in place. He didn’t turn around to the voice, he just stood and breathed, as her face played the helpless tune of an innocent animal being mistreated.
“I said, Get the FUCK off her,” Ted said again, stronger and louder with a hand in the air. The bell dinged and the door next to girl’s face opened. A sick wind whipped across her cheek and she felt the metal cool between her skin and the wall. She hadn’t noticed the tears until the wind whisped across them. The heat convected off her face and she started to shake. With the first shake the man dropped his hands and let her sink to the wall. He didn’t wait another moment before he slipped through the closing bus doors.
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