Page 15
If John’s life were an action on a keyboard, it’d be “Copy and Paste.” He takes the same seat on the same train at the same time every day to work. He knows this commute better than anyone. He can name all the ads in the stations. He can tell you who gets off where, what car to sit in to be closest to your exit, and which car has the best service. He’s five stops away from his destination, his eyes glued to the window watching all of the people on the platform that he saw yesterday and the day before, doing exactly what he’s doing. Sticking to the routine.
He checks his watch as the train enters the next station, right on schedule as always. He turns his attention back to the window, knowing exactly what he would see.
John is still looking out the window when he hears someone clear their throat. He turns to see an older man with a head of sparse gray hair, a cane, and the most obnoxious blue briefcase standing above him.
“Is this seat taken?”
John removes his bag from the seat and shakes his head.
Well, this is new.
The man smiles and takes a seat, reaching into that bright blue briefcase and pulling out a book.
John turns back to the window, looking at the same billboards and the same people, wondering if they still took comfort in the repetition of their lives.
He didn’t.
“I picked this one up after my wife died. Do you remember these, or is my age showing right now?” the man says, laughing quietly.
“Excuse me?” John replies, turning away from the window to appraise the old man.
“My son used to be obsessed with these books,” he says, showing the cover to John. “It’s one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books. Found it in the attic when he helped me clean out the house. You see here?” He points to the bottom of the book. “It says ages 8–12, but honestly I haven’t had this much fun in years. It should say all ages on here!” the man exclaims, laughing some more.
John doesn’t have a chance to reply before the man gets going again as the train leaves the platform.
“I must have made the wrong choice four times in this book already. I can’t seem to get it right,” he says, shaking his head ruefully and flipping back to the beginning of the book.
John surprises himself by responding, “Then why do you keep trying?”
The old man looks up at John, that smile still on his face.
“Because I can just start over!”
John feels the corner of his mouth lift as he studies the old man with the bright blue briefcase that smells faintly like butterscotch.
Starting over. Hell, John can’t even remember the last time he started something. He feels his mouth turn down.
The conductor announces the next stop on the train.
Four more stops.
“You know, I’ve never been on an adventure,” the man starts up again as people file in and out of the train. The old man reaches into the briefcase and pulls out a Polaroid, handing it to John.
“That’s my Mary,” he says wistfully. “She always said that as soon as the kids went to college we could go on our own adventure. Seattle!” He stares at the photo a beat longer before tucking it back into his bright blue briefcase. “That’s where my Mary always wanted to go. She sure did love herself some Tom Hanks,” the old man laughs.
“How was it?” John asks.
“Oh, we never made it there,” the man chuckles softly.
“Oh, did she pass before you could go?”
The man sighs. “Yes.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss—” John starts but is interrupted before he can finish.
“And no.”
“No?” he asks, confused.
“Well, my Mary got sick, but then she got better. Then the roof leaked, then my son had our grandbabies. Then the porch needed fixing, the dog got sick, but then he got better. Then the grandkids were spending the summers with us. Then one day Mary and I were on the porch and the grandkids were inside playing with the dog, and my Mary turned to me and smiled right as it started raining, and we both just knew it wasn’t going to happen,” the old man shrugs.
The train begins pulling into the next station.
Three more stops.
“Life is just full of surprises like that.” The old man smiles.
“Will you excuse me,” John says, rising from his seat with his backpack in his hand. “I, uh, have to use the restroom.”
The man frowns at John for the first time since stepping onto the train as John scurries to the restroom.
John enters the tiny restroom on the train, intentionally not facing the mirror. He knows what he’ll see: the maroon tie he put on after making his coffee, the gray suit he just picked up from the dry cleaners, and his eyes that are dull despite his requisite eight hours of sleep.
John does not hate his life. He doesn’t even hate his job. He lives in a nice apartment, in a nice neighborhood. Hell, he can even afford to shop at the expensive grocery store a few blocks away from his home. John lives a good life. Lately, he couldn’t help noticing that he hasn’t seen anything new in a really long time.
“Life is just full of surprises,” John mutters under his breath as he washes his hands. He feels the train jerk forward as it begins its trek to the next station.
John’s life was not full of surprises. In fact, this old man sitting next to him was the newest thing to happen to him in over a year.
John holds onto the railing instinctively right before the train makes its turn.
Two more stops.
John makes his way back to his seat and sees that the seat next to him is empty.
In his spot, the Choose Your Own Adventure book lies open on his seat, but the man and the bright blue briefcase are gone.
“The man who was sitting here left that for you,” the blonde lady who John has seen every day for the past year says to him as he picks the book up and sits down.
He places the book in the seat next to him and looks out the window. Why would that old guy leave him this book if it was clearly important to both him and his wife? Maybe he forgot it, and the blonde lady didn’t know what she was talking about.
John looks back down at the book as the conductor announces the stop. He glances back out the window, knowing what he’ll see: that large billboard for a manufacturing company is going to come up right before they pull into the station.
Except this time the billboard is blank.
Just a shiny white blank page covers it. He still sees the same faces, the same families, the same vendors. The only thing that’s changed is the billboard.
He grabs the book and places it in his lap.
Maybe the old guy will be back tomorrow, and he can return it then.
John looks around at the passengers stepping on and off the train. So many familiar faces.
One more stop.
John looks at the book in his lap, thinking about how weird this morning has been.
So weird.
So different.
John smiles.
The train begins to slow as it pulls into the station.
John instinctively reaches for his bag.
Then he stops.
Instead, he opens the book to the first page.
He sees a note in scratchy ink that the old man must have written.
To my Mary: Before the end, you made me promise I would never stop living, and I promised you I would start over as many times as it would take me. So here’s to new firsts, until the end.
Love, Larry
John turns to the start of the book:
“You stand at the beginning of your adventure…”
The train pulls into the station, and the doors open.
John’s stop.
John looks up as the blonde lady stands and gives him a quizzical look.
He doesn’t stand.
He doesn’t look out the window.
He keeps reading until he gets to his first choice.
The conductor makes the last call for the stop.
If you return to the road you know, turn to page 2.
If you explore the path ahead, turn to page 15.
John looks out the window one last time. The passengers have mostly cleared the platform, and the train is more or less empty.
John turns to page 15 as the train doors close.
For the first time in a long time, he can’t tell you what comes next.