Transformation by: Mario Ortega, Charcoal, 2018
SUBWAY SUBVERSION
As I sit here on the subway, my body rocking back and forth as the train angrily rolls on its bumpy tracks, I feel him watching me from the corner of his eye. I saw him get on at the last stop and take a seat opposite mine, about six seats further down the car to my right. He was tatted all over, or at least the parts of his body I could see, and had a hoodie pulled up over his head. Still, I could see his eyes darting back and forth, averting my gaze any time I turned his way. I wondered where he was coming from; where he was going. It was a cool, brisk morning. I was headed to work, as a substitute teacher at PS109 in lower Manhattan. I had retired years ago from a long career in teaching but I substituted from time to time to supplement my meager income from my teacher’s retirement and social security. Housing in Manhattan was sky high, but I was able to make ends meet in my rent controlled apartment. The substitute assignments at $150 per day also helped, not only with the bills, but with the boredom. Ever since my husband passed, the loneliness and monotony of daily living have taken their toll. Now, my days are filled with mindless chores as I watch the clock ticking away changing the minutes into hours, until it’s time to do it all over again. Many of my friends have died or moved away from the city to retirement homes in Florida. I have always loved the city and its vibrancy. As the song says, I want to wake up in the city that never sleeps, or something like that. The problem is, I wake up alone even though there are people all around me.
Anyway, back to Mr. Tat. He got on the train near the Courthouse. I’ll just bet he was there copping a plea, getting off with time served for some lesser offense to avoid a costly trial for the State of New York. The prisons are crowded anyway. Probably identity theft. I remember this Federal case I was on, years ago. I performed my civic responsibility and showed up for jury duty. You always get selected for the jury when you think there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll get picked. It was a man on trial for identity theft amounting to over a half million dollars of other people’s money. The defendant sat there, in his ill-fitting suit accompanied by his court appointed attorney. Why would they want a 45 year old white woman to serve on his jury? He was tatted up too, just like this guy sitting across from me. Yes, I can just imagine it. Mr. Tat says, “Judge, I didn’t do it. I was set up.” His Mama would be there crying, saying “He’s a good boy! He ain’t never got in trouble before.” Days of evidence and witnesses would be presented. Thousands of dollars of taxpayer money would be spent trying this case. People who were robbed of their identity would be flown in from parts unknown to testify what had happened to them, how they discovered their loss, how they had to hire expensive lawyers to reclaim their name and restore their good credit. At a court recess, Mr. Tat’s Mama would be heard saying “My boy ain’t never hurt nobody in his life. This ain’t nothin’ more than somebody accusin’ my boy a somethin’ he didn’t do.”
It’s funny how people think identity theft doesn’t hurt anyone. Just because you don’t kill someone doesn’t mean you can’t kill their spirit. I worked hard my whole life, on a teacher’s income, to provide for myself and my family. To think that with all this new technology, some hacker in China can wipe out my good credit and my life savings with a few clicks of the keyboard is mind boggling. What happened to honesty and integrity? My parents taught me the value of a dollar and to live by the golden rule. They also said if I followed the 10 Commandments, I couldn’t go wrong in life. Number 8: Thou shalt not steal. Number 10: Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods. The 10 Commandments were the only road map I needed to set me on the right path. So, I imagine Mr. Tat just got off on a technicality. Just like that guy on the Federal trial I served on so many years ago. Out on the streets again to pick up where he left off.
Back to reality from my daydreaming, I notice the car has emptied out. Still a couple more stops till I get off, I glance in Mr. Tat’s direction one more time. This time, he looks me straight in the eye. He gets up and holds on to the hand rail. As he begins to walk in my direction, my body tenses up and I pull my purse closer in to my body. I have keys in my hand, protruding between my fingers just in case of an attack. I may be 65 years old, but I’m no push over. I’ve taken care of myself on the streets and subways of this city for a long time and that’s not going to change now. He strides over in a confident, swagger style. Suddenly, he throws his hoodie off, sits down next to me, and as I feel my body stiffen, he says “Mrs. D’Angelo, I thought that was you! Do you remember me? I’m Dante King. You were my 7th grade English teacher at PS 252 back in the day.”
My body immediately relaxed as I breathed a sigh of relief. Dante was one of my best students, back in the day. I look deep into his doe brown eyes and see that young man I taught so long ago. His prose was soft and sweet like spreading creamy butter on a hot roll, fresh from the oven.
“Dante, it’s so good to see you. I noticed you glancing at me but I couldn’t place you. You’ve changed so much in the last 20 years. What are you up to?”
He replied, “Well, Mrs. D, I majored in Music with a minor in English and got my degree. Now I’m writing music for John Legend, Darius Rucker and some other artists, and traveling the world.” He paused a moment then, almost pensively, said, “I remember you giving me so much encouragement in my writing, always pushing me to reach my full potential.” He paused again, like he was reflecting on bygone days, and then said, “Anyway, I’m in town for my Mama’s birthday.”
I smiled, and then replied “I remember your Mama. She was a caring, hard-working woman. Please give her my regards.” I paused, then said “Dante, it was great seeing you and thank you so much for your kind words. They mean a lot.”
With that, the train came to a halt at my stop. I pulled myself out of my seat and took a step back into the world I once knew, full of hope and understanding.