What a hag, Misa could no longer contain herself as she muttered under her breath. Unbelievable. You old ladies are the worst.
She hadn’t spoken loudly enough to reach those across the aisle, but it was likely Itoh-san heard her. Misa was spoiling for a fight. But Itoh-san merely glanced at her sideways, not saying a word.
The gaggle of older ladies seemed to be talking about the lunch they were on their way to, at a restaurant in Takarazuka. No doubt the place was expensive, and they must have been pretty well off to be able to afford such a lavish lunch on a Saturday.
But I bet none of you have ever caught hell for the way you conduct yourself – not like what happened to me with that old man I’d never laid eyes on before.
Misa had been commuting on the train since she was in middle school.
On the way to school, the line she took was packed like sardines so there was never any hope of sitting down, but on the way home, there was sometimes the chance of getting a seat with her friend Mayumi – depending upon the timing.
And by timing, that meant days when she wasn’t on cleaning duty.
On those days, if she could make it to the station to catch the local train, she might just get a seat, but from the next train on, it would be filled with high-school students who had boarded at the previous station, and there would be no chance.
In the beginning, whoever had cleaning duty would just give up hope, but at some point it dawned on Misa and Mayumi (they weren’t sure whose idea it was) that whoever didn’t have cleaning duty could get to the station beforehand and save two seats. Then, the one on duty would run to the station after the cleaning was finished and they’d both be able to sit.
It always came down to the wire for the one on cleaning duty, so they would get seats at the end of the car closest to the ticket gate. The one who got there first would save the desired seat, placing the other’s bag there and sitting up very straight beside it, with one hand on the handles, every so often peering towards the ticket gate to make it obvious that she was waiting for someone.
How cheeky they must have looked. Even now, thinking back on it made Misa wince with shame.
‘Whatcha doin’ there, girlie?’ An old man standing right in front of Misa spoke up all of a sudden.
Not realizing that ‘girlie’ meant her, Misa kept up her show of waiting, still peering at the ticket gate.
‘Girlie, there – you! The one letting yer bag take up a seat.’
Misa realized he was talking to her, so she turned to look at him.
He was a balding old man, small in stature, but he gazed down at her with a forbidding look.
Wait, what? This old dude’s talking to me? What’s he on about?
The reflexive hostility unique to a person her age was easily quashed by his angry and unwavering glare.
‘What makes you think you can take up someone else’s seat when it’s crowded like this?’
‘Uh, um, this is my friend’s bag, she’ll be here any minute.’
‘That’s your excuse?! All these good people got on the train before your friend there, but because you so shamelessly saved her a seat, she can just show up and sit down?! You don’t see anything wrong with that?!’
How awkward – with you shouting so loud like that, everybody will be looking! It’s embarrassing! Misa cowered as she glanced around.
The eyes that she had expected to be directed towards the disruptive senior citizen were instead staring daggers at her, the one who was still a child.
Though not such a child that these people didn’t feel the same level of frustration with her as did the old man.
She was humiliated. Not because everyone was staring at her but for the reason that had drawn their attention. There were probably other students from her school in the car, maybe there were even some from her very own class.
‘And … my friend, she’ll be tired from doing cleaning duty,’ Misa offered feebly. She knew enough to feel embarrassed for using this as justification, but she couldn’t help herself.
‘In that case ya oughta give her yer seat then! That’s no excuse!’ Sure enough, he shut her down.
The fact that no one intervened served to put her in her place. And illustrated how presumptuous and cheeky everyone else found her and Mayumi’s ‘brilliant idea’ that they’d been putting into practice all this time.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting! Thanks for saving my seat!’
Mayumi boarded the train, oblivious to the peculiar atmosphere in the car. The elderly man turned and directed a piercing look at Mayumi.
‘So yer the friend?’
Confused, Mayumi inched towards Misa. ‘Hey, is this geezer bothering you?’
She may have meant to whisper this to Misa but it came out in her natural voice, loud enough for all to hear.
‘Y’all’ve been up to this all along, haven’tcha?!’ His bellow roared like thunder. ‘On a crowded train where everyone wants to sit down, but the pair of you think it’s OK to let your bag save a seat for each other – who taught ya that?!’
Mayumi pouted. Hey, you old geezer … what the hell? Just as she was about to give it right back to him, he cut her off.
‘Damn kids, what school do you go to? Tell me!’
He’s going to report us to school!?
Misa leapt to her feet. ‘We’re getting off.’ She thrust Mayumi’s bag at her and bowed her head at the old man. ‘Excuse us. We won’t ever do it again.’ Her tone was terse but apologetic.
By now Mayumi seemed to have registered everyone’s disapproval of them. She followed Misa and bowed her head sulkily.
They fled the carriage and sat on a bench on the platform. The bell rang, signalling the train’s departure, and the train pulled out of the station.
The seats that Misa had been saving remained empty, even after the train had left.
‘For sure that old guy’s gonna take the seat, once he’s outta sight,’ Mayumi said, kicking the concrete. ‘He just wanted to sit there himself, that’s why he had a go at you, for sure.’
Both of them must have known that wasn’t the case.
Y’all’ve been up to this all along, haven’tcha?!
They had been doing this, two or three times a week. How many passengers on those trains had been offended by their antics?
It was demoralizing.
They’d been called out for what they’d thought was such a brilliant idea. By a stranger and in public, no less. Their behaviour was conspicuous and shameful enough for the old man finally to snap and give them hell for it in front of everyone.
‘He just wanted to sit there himself, for sure,’ Mayumi repeated, still sulking. Misa was sulking too. But they both knew the real reason for their funk.
Were either of them to break rank, they’d burst into tears.
Obviously no one knew Misa’s or Mayumi’s names, but neither of them wanted to imagine how mortifying it would be if, say, there was an announcement during morning assembly that a complaint had been made to the school.
‘Well, I guess we won’t be doing that any more,’ Misa said.
That was the extent of what remorse the two of them were capable of at the time – they didn’t see themselves as being at fault but the old man had kicked up such a fuss that it would stop them from ever doing it again.
The fragility of adolescence prevented them from being able to admit even the slightest error on their part. In a corner of their hearts, they must have felt a shred of guilt, because from that day on, they never rode in the first car of the train again. Nor did they ever use their bag to save a seat on public transport. What’s more, they acted like they had always known that doing so was inappropriate and rude.
Neither ever admitted it was the old man who had made them aware. But nor did they ever forget about it.