I looked it up this time. The K stopped running in '88. Not that it ever ran on this line at all.
I think it was checking me out, y'know?
Yeah. That's what I think.
In fact, I think they're all checking me out. All the defunct lines, the dead lines. I think they never really go away. I mean, every day somewhere, somebody slips up and says, "Take the 1/9" when they should just say the 1, or they say the T when they mean the V, or whatever. Too many people look into those empty tunnels and expect to see something where nothing is. And the trains, maybe they hear all that. Maybe they think they're still needed. So maybe they stick around, waiting to be called.
It probably doesn't take much. Just one person, really, wanting badly enough to go . . . hell, wherever it is they go. I wonder if . . .
Why shouldn't I say things like that? I kind of want to know, you know? Where they go. Wouldn't you?
Okay, okay. I won't say it anymore. I'm sorry.
I'm probably hallucinating this shit anyway. Carbon monoxide or rat poison or something, all kinds of crap down there. Maybe I'm allergic and this is, I dunno, anaphylactic bullshit, as opposed to garden-variety bullshit, ha ha ha. You're the only person I know who would take me seriously when I say things like this. That's why I love you, girl.
Thanks for listening, though. Really. I don't know what I'd do without you.
Would you ever tell me if I got on your nerves?
It's not crazy. You're married, you've got a baby and another on the way. You're always busy. You've got a life.
I know. I know you'll always be my friend. But . . . I can't call you when I want to go somewhere on a Friday night. You'd have to find a sitter, call your husband, rearrange your whole life. You can't come over when I'm bored and lonely and just want somebody to sit around and watch TV with. I mean, I can call you, I know, but I'm always worried the phone will wake up everybody in your house.
Sometimes I need more from you than you can give, y'know? I know that. I try not to impose, even though . . . even though you're all I've . . . I don't mean to impose.
So just tell me, okay? If I ever get on your nerves. Just say you'll tell me if I do. It's okay, really. I'll understand.
Hey, girl! Long time no speak. What's up?
I'm fine. No, really. I'm sorry I worried you. I know, I was kind of talking crazy. I kind of felt crazy. But I'm fine now.
Oh, yeah, so I took the U after work one night.
No, there was never a U. I mean, I saw it, a big black letter on a plain white circle, kind of like an eye, but it's not a real line. It's one of the spares, in case they need to create a new line sometime, like X and Y. It's a line that never was. But I saw it that day, peeking out at me from the tunnel. Checking me out. I don't know how it heard me, the subways are so loud, but I just whispered, "Well, come on, then." And it rolled right in.
There was no conductor. All the seats were wide open, shiny and clean. So I got on it. I rode all the way to the end of the line.
Oh, girl, I'm sorry, my cell barely gets any signal out here. Can you hear me? If we get cut off, I'll call you back later. I just wanted you to know I was all right. And, y'know, you can visit me anytime you want, okay?
Because I know you hate it sometimes, the routine. Giving up your dreams, or at least postponing them, to have kids. It was so stupid of me to assume that just because you had a family that everything was perfect for you. I understand that now. I'm sorry for making you put up with all my shit. You've been such a good friend.
So I want to return the favor. Sometimes all you need to do is take a chance, you know, try something new. Close your eyes and take a step forward, then look around to see where you are.
If you take that step, you'll find me. Doesn't matter where, really. Even if you end up in a bad place, I'll find you. I got your back. Didn't you know that already? Ha ha ha.
Catch me up about the new baby sometime. I've got so much to tell you, too.
Gotta go, sorry. I'll catch you later, okay?
Train's coming.