Missed It, Made It

MISSED IT, MADE IT

8:27 PM

Coattails flying, I ran into the train station. It had been a hellish day — nothing had worked out as planned. And to top it off, I was about to miss my train home …

MISSED IT

My day, of course, started with my alarm not going off, or I had turned it off without waking up. Who knew? No way to tell. Either way, what I did know was that I was late for work and had to book it.  

I hate being late. I pride myself on being on time, even early. I usually build in enough time so that if I am delayed I still have enough time to get to where I’m going on time. But not today. Nope, I’d slept in by a good hour. It was almost eight o’clock.

But, I had a plan — a quick shower, get dressed and head out, running. Good plan, right? Except there was no hot water. In fact there was no water at all. Something clicked in the far recesses of my mind … something about road maintenance and turning off the water main. It did not escape my notice that if I had gotten up when I was supposed to, there would have been water, but that hour screwed me out of my morning shower. And face washing. And tooth brushing.

I grabbed my toothbrush and hotfooted it into the kitchen, and grabbed the jug of water from the fridge. Teeth and face done in the kitchen sink, I ran back into the bedroom to get dressed.  

Of course, my clothes were wrinkled. I had an important dinner meeting, and my dress-for-success suit needed a good pressing. And my blouse needed a good washing. What a hot mess!

I quickly reviewed my day in my head — meeting, meeting, lunch, contract work, negotiations, dinner, home. Nope, today was not going to be a casual dress day. Damn. I grabbed a pair of black jeans, a blouse, and a blazer. That was as “business” as I was going to get today.

I rushed out front door, locked it, and headed to the bus. Just as I was rounding the corner, of course, I saw the bus pull away from my stop.  

MADE IT

It was 7:40, time to head out to the office. Locking up, I headed for the bus stop and reviewed my day in my head — meeting, meeting, lunch, contract work, negotiations, dinner meeting, home. A long day, but doable. I was ready for the meetings, and negotiations. As well, I had a dinner meeting a new client, so I made sure that I had my dress-for-success suit on. As I passed the road construction I was glad that I didn’t have to deal with the water being turned off today. It was supposed to from eight a.m. Until four p.m. I wouldn’t be home until much later, so not my problem. The bus pulled up, and I stepped on board.

“Good morning,” I said to my usual driver, Eloise. “Fantastic day!” I said with a big smile.  

She smiled back, as the bus pulled away from the curb.

MISSED IT

I ran after the bus, flapping my arms, yelling like some giant bird. Thankfully, the bus driver pulled over, and I ran, panting on to the bus.

“Thank you so much!” I huffed, searching for my bus pass. “You just made my day. You’re the best!”

I beamed my best smile at him, as the bus pulled away from the curb.

MADE IT

I arrived at the office early enough to enjoy a quiet cup of tea as I reviewed my notes for the two meetings this morning. My motto — the best surprise is no surprise.

MISSED IT

By the time I got to the office, I was a sweaty, disheveled mess. I didn’t have time to review my notes, but, hopefully, I knew my stuff.

MITCH

Mitch was only ten of minutes late for our lunch date. While I stress out when I’m late, Mitch is the opposite — he’s usually late, and he’s okay with it. And if you’re not, well, that’s on you. Over the years I’ve learned that he’s not going to change. And, conversely, he has also learned that my time is pretty tight and the later he is, the less time we have to spend together. And he’s okay with that, as well. It works for both of us.

I watched him walk into the restaurant, scan the tables, and his eyes land on me. He took long strides towards the table. I stood.  

“Fee!” he bellowed, and wrapped his arms around me, hugging the breath out of me.  

When he finally released me from his death grip, he held me at arms length, and gave me the once over.

“What,” I said.

“There’s something …” he said, suddenly serious.  

We sat.

I should tell you, Mitch is ... psychic ... sensitive ... clairvoyant — I don’t know. He’s something, I just don’t know what it is. Over the years I have learned to pay attention to his “feelings.” Too many times he’s made predictions that have come true. Once, just after we had met, he told me to make sure to fill up my gas tank on the boat. He didn’t even know I had a boat. I thought he was a weirdo, and of course, completely ignored his warning. I was stranded for six hours in the middle of a lake because — you guessed it — I ran out of gas.  Another time he told me to take the stairs at work. This time I listened to him, and five people had been stuck on the elevator for three and a half hours because of some mechanical malfunction. He once told me not to drive on a certain road, and later that night I saw on the news that there had been a giant pileup involving sixty cars. I have learned to listen to Mitch. Those who don’t do so at their peril.  

His seriousness had me concerned.

“What?” I asked again.

Staring at me, he said, “I don’t know. It’s not clear. Something about doors closing.” He paused, concentrating. “I’m sorry, Fee, I can’t see it clearly.”

Well, that put a damper on our lunch. We tried to chit chat, but I could see that Mitch was trying to figure out what I needed to know.  

We finished our lunch and left the restaurant, and hugged on the street before going our separate ways.

“If I figure out what’s going on, I’ll let you know,” he said, holding my hands, still looking serious.

I smiled.

“I would appreciate that, very much.”

This had happened a few times before. Mitch wouldn’t be able to “see” clearly, and would ruminate over what he had sensed, and if and when it became clear he would contact me. There were a number of times that he was unable to have a clear idea of my fate. Once he had said “cats” to me. He was never able to clarify it for me, but a man I had been dating had invited me to the play Cats, so maybe that was it. Another time he had seen me in surrounded by smoke but wasn’t able to see why. For weeks I had been paranoid enough to make sure that I had an escape route out of every building I entered, in case of fire. Mitch had called a few weeks later and said that he’d “seen” that I was in a room full of smoke, but it wasn’t dangerous. I had been at a Hallowe’en party where there was dry ice, that looked a lot like smoke. Mystery solved.

Today, Mitch’s pronouncement about closing doors had me regarding every door that I passed through, trying to detect any danger that might exist.  

MISSED IT

I rushed toward the train station, glancing at my watch every few seconds. I was so going to miss the train, and then I would be forced to take three busses and a taxi to get home.  

I broke into a run. I could see the train on the track, people filing into through the doors.

I tore down the stairs, holding the rail for support. But, apparently not tight enough. My left heel caught the edge of the stair, and I started to slip forward. I yanked myself back, and both my feet flew out from under me. I hit the stairs, and bum bumped to the bottom. I sat in a heap at the bottom of the staircase, out of breath, my left ankle throbbing. I watched the doors slide shut, and the train pull out of the station.

Damn! I’d missed my train, and screwed up my ankle. What a shitty day.

“Can I help you?” asked a voice.

I looked up, and there was a man, holding out his hand to help me up.

As his hand grabbed mine, I slowly tried to stand. I gingerly tried to put pressure on my left foot, to no avail.

“Oh man,” I said, plunking back down on the stair. “I really hurt my ankle.”

“Let me have a look at it.”

I looked at him skeptically.

He laughed. “I’m an EMT.”

I pulled up my pant leg so he could see my ankle. He gently prodded my already swelling foot.

“Ow ow ow ow ow!” I yipped.

He looked at me.

“I think it might be broken,” he said.

I stared gapped mouth. I couldn’t believe it. If today hadn’t been bad enough …

“I think we should get you to the hospital for x-rays, to make sure.”

I tried to stand.

“I don’t think I can walk,” I said.

“No worries,” he said, “I’ll go with you. I’ve got some friends in Emerg who’ll make sure we get you in and out in a hurry.”

I smiled.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “I’m Fiona,” I said, holding out my scraped and bruised hand.

“Kevin,” he said, shaking my hand.

Just then my phone rang. At least I hadn’t smashed it, I thought as I brought it out of my pocket.

MADE IT

I rushed toward the station, glancing at my watch every few seconds. I was so going to miss the train, and then I would be forced to take three busses and a taxi to get home.  

I broke into a run. I could see the train pulling into the station. 

I can make this, I thought to myself, as I flew down the stairs. I caught my left heel and almost fell, but righted myself. I jumped through the doors, just as the conductor blew whistle, and the doors slid shut.

I looked around. It was crowded, but not sardine-crowded. I moved towards the back of the car, looking for a seat. Nothing. I walked between the cars heading towards the rear of the train. I reached the last car, and spied a single seat at the very end of the last car. Any further and I be off the train altogether.  

I smiled and settled into my seat, looking out the window. 

My phone began to ring in my pocket. I pulled it out.

Mitch.

“Hey Mitch,” I said.

MISSED IT

I looked at the screen. It was Mitch.

I silenced the phone, put it back in my pocket, and looked at my new friend Kevin.

“Okay, Kevin, if you can help me, I’m ready to try the stairs.”

I got to my feet — or should I say foot — gingerly. Kevin put his arm under my left shoulder, and I used the handrail with my right hand, and I started hopping slowly up the stairs.  

My phone rang again.  

I ignored it.

I was sweating and panting by the time we reached street level.  

“I’m not sure how much farther I can go,” I told Kevin. “Let’s get a taxi.”

We hobbled over to the curb, and Kevin hailed a cab. We climbed into the back.

“Western Hospital,” said to the driver, who pushed down the fare arm.

My phone rang again. I looked at the screen.  I furrowed my brow. Mitch again. I looked at Kevin.

“Take it,” he said. “It must be important.”

I pushed the button.

“Hey Mi—“

“Where are you?” Mitch demanded.  

“In a cab on the way to the hospital.”

“Oh, thank God!”

MADE IT

“Where are you?” Mitch demanded.

“Headed home.”

“Where!?” he practically screamed at me.

“I’m on the train. We just pulled out of the station. Why?”

“Oh my God!”

MITCH

“I know what I meant about the doors,” he said. “There’s going to be an explosion. On the train. You have to get away from the train.

MISSED IT

“I’m not on the train. I’m about two blocks away from the train station. I’m good.”

Kevin looked at me.

Just then we heard a rumbling sound, and felt the ground shake. I looked towards the tracks that ran parallel to the road we were on. There was a gout of flame and smoke. Suddenly there was flaming debris raining from the sky.

“Oh no. It’s happening.”

MADE IT

I sucked in a breath.

“What?” I whispered.

“The train is going to blow up. You have to get off.  

“I can’t. It’s moving.”

“I don’t care how, just get the hell off! Now!”

I lept to my feet, but before I could move, I felt a rumbling under my feet. I dropped to the floor of the train car, and covered my head.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

MISSED IT

“Fee! Fee!”

I could hear Mitch’s voice, but I was cowering on the floor of the cab, Kevin beside me. Our taxi driver was laying on the front seat. Debris had shatter the windshield. As I looked up, a giant piece of steel came hurdling towards the window, right at me.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

MADE IT

“Fee! Fee!”

I could hear Mitch’s voice, faintly, over the screaming. I was crouched between the last two seats on the train. I couldn’t breathe, the car was full of smoke.  

I hazarded a look out the window. Debris was everywhere. Not all of it train. I could see bodies and body parts strewn around the train. Some people were alive, wandering, their faces covered in blood. They had survived.  

I had survived.

I crawled on my hands and knees towards the back door exit. I pushed down on the handle and door creaked open.  I crawled out.

I was alive.

MISSED IT

“Fee! Fee!” Mitch yelled.

“I’m sorry, we are having technical difficulties. Please hang up, and call again,” said the mechanical voice.

Mitch stared at his phone, and disconnected the call.