Joan was not concerned with punctuality. It is not that she doesn't care about being on time. She does. But she had learned the secret of being on time without being obsessed with it. The sudden death of her father five years ago had changed her. Prior to his death, she used to arrive breathless at the station every morning. She would hear her heart thumping as the train pulled in and she would worry about being late for work. Now it was not important for her. If the train was late, she was delighted to have the opportunity to sit and watch.
At the age of twenty-seven, she was still single and no prospect of love in sight. She had tried to get to know men but it never worked out. There was even one man at work that she liked a lot. She would have liked to ask him out but what would be the point. Her relationships were destined to be failures.
It is said that knowledge is power. Joan had the knowledge but she did not use it for power. Knowledge for her was a curse that she carried every day of her life. As a child, she thought that everybody could read other peoples' minds. She found out the hard way that this was not the case. Her teen years taught her that her ability was unique and that uniqueness brings fear and isolation. Her mother also had the gift which was always difficult because she would know if you were lying. She taught Joan to value her ability and to use it for good rather than evil.
The gift had not brought happiness. It was not easy to explain how you could hear a thousand conversations in your mind. The worst part was the ability to sense pain in people and bearing the pain of the blunt truth. She knew now why none of her relationships had worked. Throughout her life she had met some nice people but their words never matched the intentions of their hearts. Joan had often wished that she was the same as everyone else. But she never did get her wish.
The station platform was now full. The crowd of early morning commuters was becoming very restless. Joan listened to all the inward conversations around her. It is amazing what people talk about to themselves. One man was trying to solve a mathematical equation and was becoming very perplexed with the outcome of his efforts. There was a middle aged lady who was rehearsing what she would say to her son later. Seemingly, she had received a letter from the school to say that her son was in danger of being expelled. The lady was wondering why she bothered to work so hard to pay the fees for the ungrateful little wretch. On the opposite platform, a teenage boy was trying to get the attention of one good looking girl. The girl was pretending not to notice but Joan knew differently.
There was an announcement that the train would be arriving in ten minutes. An apology was given for the delay which was beyond the control of the company. The delay was just the cue for conversation. It is strange how people need a cause before they can speak to each other. Joan liked to see people talking. For one thing, it was easier on her mind. For some strange reason, she found that it was always more difficult to read minds when there were lots of conversations. It was just the opportunity she wanted to close her eyes and rest her mind until the train came.
At first she thought that she was going to have a heart attack. The pain in her chest was intense. Her breathing was quick and laboured. But then Joan realized that it was not a physical pain. She had never experienced the intensity of such pain nor the fear that accompanied it. It was a pain that radiated through her whole body and it came without warning and without reason. It was the kind of fear that made you want to scream out as when you wake from a nightmare and try to distinguish the dream world from reality. Joan knew that screaming was not the answer. She was certain that it was not her who was in need of help.
She opened her eyes slowly. The platform seemed as it was before. People were still complaining about the delay. The announcement speaker was silent and the shuffle of restless feet was growing louder. In her mind, she could hear words but they were distant and unclear. It was a male voice and it kept saying "I have to .... I will do.." With each word, there was a cry of despair that seemed to come from the very depths of the Earth.
Joan stood up and started to walk through the crowd. She knew that she had to find him. Nothing in the world mattered more to her than finding the source of the mysterious voice. The words became clearer and she could hear him say "I will do it. There is no other way. It has to be."
"Please God, help me to find him. I know that I can help him", she muttered. Joan didn't even know what she would say to him. What was important was that he was found and every second counted.
At the end of the platform, a young man was leaning against the pillar. He was lost in thought, his eyes fixed to the ground. Joan was almost certain that this was the man but she couldn't be sure. "What a fool I will look, if it turns out to be the wrong person", she thought. The worst that could happen is that she would be called a crazy. It didn't bother her what people thought and taking the risk was more important.
"Excuse me do you have the time", she asked.
"What", he replied, barely lifting his gaze from the ground.
"I said, do you have the time please", Joan asked with a more forceful tone in her voice.
"O, Yes, I am sorry its 8.25", he replied lifting his head to see who it was that was speaking to him.
"Thank you. The train is very late. I wonder what excuse the company will give today. They will probably tell us that it was due to a frozen signal or something like that. What do you think?", Joan asked, refusing to let him turn his head away from her.
"I don't know and I really don't care", he replied as he walked away from her.
"Wait. I want to talk to you, please," Joan shouted as he walked towards the other end of the platform.
Her shouting was beginning to attract the attention of some of the commuters but they turned the other way. One could hear the comments of "lover's quarrel". The young man did not want to hear her but she followed him anyway. She wasn't going to put up with his pain and just let him walk away.
"Excuse me she shouted.
"What do you want? Can you not leave me alone. I am entitled to some privacy. Will you please stop bothering me. There is a law against this kind of harassment", he shouted back.
"There is also a law about throwing yourself in front of a train", she shouted, not believing that the words had come out of her mouth.
The young man was stunned. His pale face revealed the shock that he felt but not the fear inside him.
"Maybe there are such things as angels and this is one of them", he thought.
He was reminded of a film that he saw where an angel stopped a man from committing suicide at the last moment. But she didn't look like an angel and yet she knew.
"Who are you", he asked, finding it difficult to get the words out.
"I am Joan. You are?", she replied as she put her hand out in a gesture of friendship.
"I am Joe but I don't understand. How could you have..", he said as the tears flowed down the side of his face.
The train arrived and the crowd rushed towards the doors. It was as if every dead line had come and gone. The whistle blew and the train pulled out of the station. The platform was now empty except for two young people sitting on a bench and oblivious to the world. They had all the time in the world. There was a lot to talk about. Anyway, there would always be another train.
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