The Suitcase

Stanford checked the time on his watch that cloaked the pisiform on his left hand. It was a quarter after ten, Stanford was finishing up his second cup of coffee watching emails swarm in. The office he worked in wasn’t quite dull, there was a break room filled with snacks and the walls weren’t bare. His desk was parallel to a man named Bernard Berenstein who arrived ten minutes late everyday and always brought in his own lunch. Across from him was Janice Jacobson, she worked in finance. Stanford can barely recall saying more than five words to her and they’ve been working together for almost a decade. Janice always wore her hair slick back in a high pony-tail, he wondered what she looked like with her hair down but didn’t give it too much thought because he saw Janice like white paint, necessary, but lacking pizazz. This made him think about all the colors of the world and how he’d liked to sit in a capacious hall of every color in existence. He thought there would be no possible way one's soul wouldn’t be vibrant in a room like that. This made him think of those who are colorblind and even those born without sight, it brought an ache to his stomach that climbed up to his heart as though a troop of ostriches invited themselves in and raided the place. Stanford felt like he had given so little thought to the fact that he could see or that he could distinguish green from brown. Stanford was mocking up the company’s weekly schedule when his alarm went off; it was lunch time. He looked over at Bernard who had just taken a bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, when Bernard noticed Stanford’s gaze he mumbled something to inquire if Stanford wanted a bite. Stanford gave Bernard a subtle smile and shook his head to indicate ‘no’. 

Stanford took the elevator to the lobby, he made his usual left turn towards the convenience stand, hiding in the corner. He ordered a roll with butter and a small cup of coffee with half and half. Jackson informed Stanford he was out of half and half. Stanford let out an audible exhale, he wasn’t in the mood to go to the corner deli to pick up a carton of half and half so he settled for a small black coffee with his roll. Stanford was removing the plastic wrap from his buttered roll when his boss, Mr.Pravesh, approached his desk. He greeted Mr.Pravesh and shoved his roll into the corner of his computer monitor. Mr. Pravesh was carrying a folder overflowing with what looked like receipts. Stanford’s fear came to fruition when he was tasked with sorting his boss’ receipts to create a department expense report. Stanford remembered the herbal shop he wanted to visit, to pick up some melatonin and nettle tea, before heading home. He realized he wouldn’t make it in time, now. 

Stanford logged off his computer thirty minutes after his scheduled end time. He checked his transportation app for the train time, notifying him the train was six minutes away. It usually took Stanford eight minutes to get to his train station but he loved the idea of a challenge and so he gathered his backpack and ran to the exit. He’d forgotten the added ninety seconds to shut the office lights and lock the door. Nonetheless, he flew down the stairs of his office and ran to the train station. Stanford’s train was a minute away, he swiped his card and entered the train’s turnstile. He darted down the second set of stairs, he could see the train doors opening and watched as a man entered the train. Stanford shouted for him to hold the door, either the man couldn’t hear him or he had intentionally ignored his plea. Stanford stared at the doors as they closed behind the man, it would be another fifteen minutes for the next train to arrive. Stanford sat on one of those outdated benches designed to discourage any sort of comfort. Stanford fought his eyes once, twice, too many, before caving. He must have dozed off maybe two or three minutes before hearing the woman call his name. She was dressed in black from toes to head and her hat looked like a cross between some 1950’s and futuristic design. Her eyes were unordinary and when he looked closer he felt an odd rush like an airplane taking off. Stanford came into clarity and winced at the woman. He was still sitting in the train station. He adjusted his glasses and asked the woman who she was. The woman laughed and grabbed the suitcases sitting beside her, she lifted both of them onto her lap. Stanford asked her if she knew Mr.Pravesh, and the woman let him know that she never needed to know him. Stanford figured the woman wanted some sort of donation so he let her know he doesn’t have money. The woman laughed a thunderous laugh, she nonchalantly noted that money isn’t the most valuable resource on earth. 

Stanford looked at the woman right in the two black holes that swirled on opposite sides of her nose, and let her know he wasn’t interested. The woman evaded his response and told Stanford she could change his whole life. Stanford scoffed, stood up, and inched closer to the platform’s edge. The woman followed suit standing alongside Stanford, both looking in the direction of the train. Stanford thought about walking upstairs to the street exit to take a cab but figured he waited this long for the train; his patience shouldn’t be left in vain. The woman looked at Stanford and lifted the suitcases. Stanford bellowed a blasphemous word and shook the woman’s shoulders pleading for her to leave him alone. The woman shushed him, this took Stanford aback. He hadn’t been shushed since the fifth grade, he released his grasp on the woman and she laughed. The woman stared into the brown pebbles that practically hugged his crooked nose. He let the woman know he hadn’t time to entertain the crazies tonight. The woman advised that his train would be here in sixty seconds and within those sixty seconds he could fit his entire life into this suitcase, she rattled the suitcase that cradled in her left hand, she then lifted her right hand and assured him he’d received another life in exchange. Stanford knew he was having trouble sleeping the last two weeks and for a moment wondered if he was sleeping walking. 

“Listen you witch, keep your wicked ways away from me.” He barked. 

Stanford’s hair blew like a tree branch on a windy night. He could see the lights of the train approaching like an owl’s eyes in twilight. Stanford watched as the train approached the station, he waited for the doors to open and as they did, he hesitated, to let the weird woman board first. But, when he looked to his right the woman was no longer there. He circled to scope the rest of the station but the woman was nowhere in sight. Stanford entered the train narrowly avoiding being sandwiched between the train doors, he squeezed himself between a broad shouldered man whose jacket rounded him out like a persimmon and a smaller woman who was hunched over, clutching a shopping cart that sat in front of her. 

Stanford’s kettle was whistling as he approached his kitchen stove, he filled his mug with boiling water and his chamomile tea bag emerged like a surfboard after a wipeout. He cleaned the excess tea that glided along his kitchen counter. It was almost eleven in the evening and Stanford was settling onto his living room couch to watch a movie. The clock twirled to twelve and then to one and then to two while Stanford flipped through comedy movies, he looked at the clock and sighed. Stanford made his way back into the kitchen where he made another cup of tea but this time he gave it a kick, adding in a mouthful of whiskey. He rummaged through the cabinet next to the refrigerator and found a bottle of sleeping pills. He polished two of those pills down with his booze and brought the bottle over to the couch. He wiggled back into the position he surfaced from, moments prior, and picked up his remote. 

Stanford let out a shriek that accompanied the blare of his alarm clock, he dashed to his dresser drawers and gathered his outfit for the day. Stanford checked his transportation app, his train would arrive in ten minutes. It would be ambitious of Stanford to make it in time but he scurried out his apartment door. Stanford reached the train turnstile and opened his backpack, his hands fished for his wallet to no avail. Stanford patted all the pockets in his jeans. Nothing. He rushed up the train station staircase and ran back to his apartment. When he reached his apartment he called Mr. Pravesh to update him on his tardiness. Mr.Pravesh didn't scold Stanford in the moment, he only offered a flat “okay”. Stanford found his wallet lodged in between his couch cushions and bolted down the stairs. Stanford checked his transportation app; there were delays. Stanford refreshed his app every five seconds, as though refreshing the app caused the train to travel faster. The woman in all black appeared in his mind and he wondered what she meant by fitting his whole life in a suitcase, this made Stanford realize he didn’t really have a life so he figured there wouldn’t be much to fit. Stanford pushed his way into the train, it was the time of day where one feels like they are swimming upstream in a school of salmon. 

It was an hour past Stanford’s call time and he was pressing the elevator button to get upstairs, his heart felt so tight he thought if he took a heart attack it would give him some time to rest and perhaps Mr.Pravesh would have sympathy towards him and completely forget about his lateness. Stanford logged onto his computer and launched into his email inbox. Stanford’s alarm went off for lunch and he saw Bernard pull out a crustless sandwich from a ziplock bag. Bernard made a comment about going to buy a bag of potato chips to go with his sandwich, Stanford nodded and returned to his computer. He felt it would be brash of him to take lunch so soon, considering he arrived two hours ago. Stanford finalized the spreadsheet he was working on and granted himself permission to get a buttered roll, he had no sight of Mr.Pravesh for the day and the anticipation of a lecture put his stomach in knots. Before heading downstairs to the convenience stand, Stanford stopped at Mr.Pravesh’s office. He figured it bode well if he took initiative and apologized before Mr.Pravesh could scold him. Stanford noticed his office was empty and the lights were off, he figured Mr.Pravesh took a late lunch but as Stanford turned to walk to the elevator, Mr.Pravesh’s assistant walked by and informed him that Mr.Pravesh left for the day. 

Stanford typically preferred when Mr.Pravesh was not in the office but for some reason, today, the thought of Mr.Pravesh having a half day hurled a huff of rage from within. Stanford swatted the down button of the elevator causing a sting to radiate down his arm. When he arrived at the lobby he marched towards the convenience stand but before Jackson could greet him Stanford made a sharp turn to the exit of the building. He decided he would treat himself to a burger and a beer for lunch. His shoulder clipped the shoulder of another man who was entering while Stanford exited and Stanford squawked at the man to watch where he was going. Stanford slid into the booth of the burger joint, he ordered a double cheeseburger, onion rings and a beer with the highest alcohol content. Stanford’s plate was dusted with sesame seeds and his beer glass decorated with foam, the waiter pulled the receipt from their apron and placed it on the table. Stanford patted his pants in search of his wallet, he could have sworn he left it there last, he realized his pants pocket only held his apartment keys so he shuffled through his backpack. Stanford’s heart fluttered faster than a butterfly fleeing from a human’s looming hand. His armpits were flooded with sweat, he’d never been in a position like this before. He swiveled his body around when a familiar voice inquired if he needed help. It was her. The woman from the train station. 

The woman invited herself into Stanford’s booth, she scooted herself across from him and pulled out money, she left the bills on top of the receipt. Stanford stared at her, dumbfounded. She smiled at him and asked if he thought about her request. Stanford played it off like he didn’t remember her but the woman knew he was lying, she insisted that one never forgets a face like hers and certainly one could never forget a request like hers. Stanford lent a flat smirk to the waiter who was picking up the money off the table. The woman did not take her eyes off Stanford, he made eye contact and she asked him once more if he would like to fit his entire life in this suitcase in exchange for another life. Stanford asked her what she meant by this and the woman explained that Stanford could exchange his life, by simply agreeing to fit his life inside this suitcase and slid the suitcase across to him. She reminded him in exchange he would receive the life that's held in this one and pointed to the suitcase lying in front of her. Stanford needed to know more, he couldn’t process how this woman found him again nor did he understand how one could shove their entire life in a suitcase, regardless how insignificant one’s life was. Stanford asked what the purpose of this request was. The woman explained to Stanford that he could have a chance at living a grander life; all he had to do was agree. Stanford asked question after question, though the woman’s answers seemed to create more riddles than resolution. One thing he did understand was the possibility of living somewhere better. He thought about the room with every color one could conceive in existence, but one thing he didn’t understand was what this woman would get out of this. He asked her for the tenth time, she smiled and said everything has a use. 

Stanford’s cell phone began to ring. He read Mr. Pravesh’s name on the screen, he clicked the lock button and his phone went black. Stanford stuffed his phone into his backpack and turned to the woman sitting across from him. He was now holding the suitcase and was looking down at the notch that held it locked. Her hat was covering her face. Stanford asked what he needed to do. The woman lifted her head and smiled. 

“All you have to do is open it.” 

The woman was now sitting in the restaurant booth alone, the waiter approached and asked if he could get her anything else, the woman requested a small coffee with half and half. The waiter nodded and returned with a pot of coffee. He asked the woman what she had planned for the rest of the day.  The woman smiled and let the waiter know she just had some files to exchange. The waiter lifted the coffee pot and grinned. 

“Just another day at the office.” He replied, as he filled her cup.