“Sorry to bother ye! Spare a few dollars, son?”

I was so enamoured by the brewing romance in my book that I took a huge jump upon his words. He was right in front of me — greasy-looking, stench-reeking — and he gazed through my eyes into my soul. A sudden chill ran through my body — his grin widened seeing my flustered face.

We were on a crowdless train — it was mid-week, mid-day — and I was on my way to a job interview, my mind collected before he emerged.  The man wore a plain brown shirt and dark blue bermudas — he would have blended well with the mellow few around us. A bright red, majestic-looking umbrella dangling on his left arm caught my eye, a sharp contrast to his drab outfit.

As I was not responding, his eyes nudged mine. He then reached his hands out to me in a beggar fashion. I looked away, but his grin was too glaring. I could not help but look back at him, and the mix of attire and mannerism sent an uncanny wave of sympathy into me. I could briefly see the wealth gap between us, separating us like the Caspian sea. My left hand, pity-imbued, steadfastly pulled out my wallet from my left pocket. For a moment, I could see his eyes glint, and I heard silent gasps — or so I thought. I pulled out a ten dollars bill, and I could see him take a deep breathe — the diaphragm rising, the inhale resounding. I cringed. I held it in front of him, and now his eyes glittered.

With a graceful yet degenerate bow, he accepted it with both hands. The wide grin was now even wider. It was uncomfortable — and somewhat irksome — and I dreadfully wanted it to end. He then hooked his body back up, and I could see the shimmer in his eyes: glaringly bright, like two unneeded spotlights. I blinked a few times.

“I thank you, son! May god bless ye!” He leapt for joy, and it felt like the carriage shook. I could see shock and disappointment in the myriad of faces as I curiously swept, and in that span the man skipped through the carriage humming a weird tune, his umbrella swinging wildly as he secreted brownish joy at every ungraceful step. Most of the sparse number of passengers in the subsequent carriages were taken aback by the unruly sight. It felt as though I just released a gorilla caged his entire life.

And then, the umbrella hit an old lady. She screamed. It was so loud all heads tilted. The pain instinctively made her hurl a bag of dried vulgarities at him. He stopped and stared at her — his smile froze her. Watching his savagery, I wondered what made him like this. It then dawned upon me that I did not care, and the shame of the drama that ensued — it felt like my fault — made me curl back into my proverbial shell. I turned away, but at the corner of my eye, I saw something approaching me, something familiar: the guy was skipping back towards me! I suddenly felt like I was in a horror movie, with multiple eager eyes at the sidelines with first-class movie tickets.

“THANK YOU FOR THE MONEY!” He circled me round and round, his body odour drowning me. I could not bear to look up: all I could do was sink deeper into some unknown. As I was trying to blank myself out and tide through it, he suddenly poked my stomach with his umbrella. I tumbled and groaned. Looking up in grimace, all I saw was him laughing at me with the umbrella pointed straight at me, like he had won an imaginary duel.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” A man at the side shouted. Two others came to assist me. I was pale and staring at him confused, like a toddler looking at an ugly clock. His eyes held a sort of menace I had never seen in my entire life. As he was being chastised — him tuning them out — and I was given first-class attention, he threw the money into my face, “Fuck you and ye money!”. The most sinister laugh I had ever heard came out from his gross mouth, and as the train stopped, he ran out of an open door, his umbrella hitting those in the way. Groans and hateful words lingered through the air.

It was a bizarre episode. I thanked those who offered me help. It felt like calm after storm, and all I could hear were whispers of discussion around me. Some people started texting, and I imagined them telling others the crazy — or maybe to them, hilarious — scene they just witnessed. I felt embarrassed, thoroughly naked. A few tear drops streaked across my cheeks, and one kind lady who was looking at me the entire time came to me with a napkin, and told me everything is alright. I looked at her, and my heart sensed warmth, and the lady nodded as though channelling her motherly self into me. I was offered a seat, and all I could do was close my eyes — shutting the world out the only solution to calm myself.

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I opened my eyes and it felt like I had missed my stop.

What in the world?

I nearly fainted — I would rather actually. The umbrella freak — I call him that because of his crazy look — was looking at me with fervent eyes, his smile the image of nightmares. The carriage seemed quieter and there was a weird iron smell lingering.

“You are awake, finally!”

His voice gave me the creeps. I had no idea what to reply. I started scanning frantically from left to right, and my entire vision was filled with red — terrifying red! Bodies strewn across the floors with gaping wounds, eyes wide in horror for some. I was dizzy, so dizzy. Am I in a dream?

“No you are not,” he was patient, as though a father to a dumb son. I was petrified. I pushed him away and leaped out of my seat, trying to salvage the modicums of time I had left before meeting my maker.

It was like a warzone on a high — and I was the only one sober. I could not believe one man could have done all these. Is he a supervillain? I was excited by that thought, but I caught myself and went back to survival mode. My legs were tactically avoiding the gruesome obstacles in the way, sometimes stumbling, sometimes nearly belching. I looked back, and all I saw was him smiling at me, as though enjoying my clumsiness. I felt like I was a clown in a circus — the last one in fact — and I somehow thought of myself in a clown costume. So weird.

I fell down. Right in front of me was a pretty lady whose pink dress had been drenched partially red. A deep hole was punched right through her guts, and I could see the innards sticking out. I felt dizzy, super dizzy. I concede. I was weak. And then I looked up, and he was there, staring at me into the soul, yet again.

“You’re the only one who gave me dollars, so I spare you.” He then walked away, now in a graceful manner, like a gentleman into a fine-diner. He looked pristine — he was the cleanest out of all living and dead — and only his umbrella was dyed in red. My brain was stuck, and my legs were weak. I stayed there, waiting for the train to stop. It felt like eternity since it had stopped. After the entire ordeal since I woke up, the train was still speeding, and it seemed like it might just not stop. Or was it going to crash? That thought struck my mind seeing that no ounce of rationality was left.

——

I was nudged, hard.

Someone woke me up, with the tip of an umbrella.

The first thing I noticed was the umbrella, the second thing the carriage. The umbrella was not at all red, like that of my imagery. The carriage was devoid of people. I looked to the side to see which station I was at: it was the second last one. I missed my stop.

“You probably missed your stop,” the man with the umbrella said.

The umbrella freak! I flopped backwards, trying to avoid him, and I took off as far as I could be from him. I could hear a faint sigh as the air of the conditioners blew at me with farfetched strength. I shivered internally, and then thought back of the massacre that unfolded. Was that just a dream? A brilliant nightmare?

So vivid, so vivid.

I was at the second last carriage when the door opened, and I dashed out as fast as I could — I felt I left my soul in the train.

“Goodbye!!!” The man shouted with glee, like he had enjoyed a well-produced cinematic, the dream included.

The giddiness — the feeling the same as that I had in the dream — slightly manifested. I nearly tripped myself. I was in completely shambles. I wanted to cry, for it was so overwhelming.

Also, I was stuck in a place with no train back: it was already near midnight; I could hear shuttles pulled down and, other than that, a deafening silence.

Wait but how could it be? It was mid-day just now. Did I just ride the train to and fro several times?

“Get going, son. There are no more trains available,” someone shouted towards me.

I turned and saw a sinister face with a murderous grin staring at me at a distance, his umbrella opened wide. At that moment, I realized I was looking at the platform, and not towards the entrance — a result of the light-headed spell. The grin was instantly recognizable: it was the umbrella freak of course! He waved a creepy goodbye, and I, goosebumps standing, waved back, before he laid back and dropped into the tracks.

What the fuck just happened?

But then my instincts kicked in and I realized he could be human: I wanted to dash over to help. However, my legs were immobilized. I tried to move but I could not. I looked left and right for any help but it seemed I was the only one there. And then someone shouted from the other direction, “Get going, son. There are no more trains available.”

Same words, different voice. I turned, and I saw the station operator beckoning me over. I looked back and I wanted to say something, but my inner voice said no. Leave him, fuck him. He’s crazy. Someone will find him dead tomorrow. No guilt, no guilt.

I went towards a path of discernible assurance and dared not look back.