Day 2: Glen

I wrote about half of this on the subway, using my BlackBerry.  I wrote another story for today, but when I woke up in the morning I panicked and thought that story was completely inappropriate.  Maybe I'll use that other story on another day, when I'm even more behind than I am today.

[Edit: I finally posted the other story on June 26th.  You can read it here.]

Glen

Glen Buchwold kept his hands in his pockets and examined the black man across from him. The black man was reading a Jehovah's Witness tract and sweating. Glen went over his rules for avoiding conflict on the subway:

1. No eye contact.

2. No talking.

3. Maintain a radius of 36 inches.

4. No eating.

5. Hands in pockets.

Glen rolled his peace totem between his fingers. They're all racist, you know. Every last one of them wants to kill us. Keep your distance and don't make sudden moves.

Today Glen wore: Grey chinos, pressed. Grey button-front shirt, pressed. Black Hi-Tec sneakers, double-knotted. Black belt. White t-shirt. White boxers, pressed. White socks. He kept the top button of his shirt undone so he wouldn't look uptight. He kept his duffel between his feet to avoid causing a conflict and also for security.

Not looking uptight is a key element to a harmonious relationship with all the races and types of people.

Teenagers, for example, would mock Glen if he were to look uptight. Also Black people. And Mexicans, but the Mexicans would mock him in Spanish. Glen was certain that anyone speaking Spanish was mocking him.

Glen's train arrived. He boarded the middle door of the conductor's car. The conductor's car, by the way, is always the fifth car from the front of the train, not the sixth car. Sometimes the conductor is in the sixth car, but that's just when the conductor needs to open the doors on the right side of the train, and only for certain models of subway car.

Around 4:30pm the Forest Hills bound M train is nearly empty, so it's the best time to travel. The best seat is the flip-down seat because no one will sit next to you.

Glen knew this.

At 4:30pm Glen was bound for the white brick Torrance Extended Care Facility on Dry Harbor Road.

Apart from the racial dangers and also specifically Mexican music spilling from headphones, Glen was menaced by the woman at the other end of the car trimming her nails with a miniature key-chain clipper. The sound traveled the length of the car and drilled into his eardrums. He clenched his fists. He wanted to wring her neck but instead breathed deeply and meditated on rules number 1 and number 2, which kept his mind off the fact that he was afraid of her.

At his stop Glen picked up his duffel, exited the car by the middle door, and walked up the stairs.

Loren the Male Nurse was sitting in the reception area for the floor on which Glen's mother resided. Glen nodded at Loren, which didn't violate any of his rules, and besides this was not the subway.

Glen had hated Loren at first. Loren has always been polite. Glen now tolerated Loren.

Glen's mother was asleep when he walked into her room. He put the duffel down at the foot of her bed and started to unpack it. First thing he unpacked was his dark gray tie, which he then put on. The he unpacked a new box of Kleenex, a new bottle of Purel, and last month's Reader's Digest. He unpacked a package of Hydrox and also some Nutter Butters. Also a new pack of cards.

He placed all these things on the bedside table where his mother could reach them but where she would not knock them over in the middle of the night when she pressed the call button.

Glen unpacked his portable cassette player and his cassette tape recording of Brahms' Symphony No. 3. He put the cassette in the player and started it playing softly.

Glen's mother hated new packs of cards, so Glen picked up the cards, pulled the guest table over to the guest chair, shuffled the cards, and started playing Patience.

After ten minutes Glen's mother woke up. She watched Glen playing Patience. He wasn't very good at it, but he was very patient.

“Hello, Glen.”

Glen put all the cards together in a stack and then put them back in their sleeve, and put that on the night table with everything else.

“How are you?”

“I am fine, Mother.”

Glen's mother reached over to the night stand and pressed the CALL button.

“Glen, can you step out of the room for a minute? I need to use the EZWee.”

Glen stepped out of the room and stood in the hallway. Mrs. Pearsall in 405 was watching Wendy Williams on Fox 5. Glen tried not to listen.

Loren came down the hall and went into Glen's mother's room. After a minute he came out again, and nodded at Glen. Glen went back in the room and sat down in the guest chair.

“What's new, Glen?”

Glen thought about what to tell her. Usually he told her about working in the Social Security Office Mail Room, and he told her about his train ride out to see her. But today he wanted to ask her something.

“Mother?”

“Yes, Glen?”

“Why is there Sin in the world?”

Glen's mother closed her eyes and leaned back against her pillows. Glen waited. The air conditioning made its hushed whirr. Brahms continued to play softly, now the Poco Allegretto. From the hallway he could hear Wendy Williams cackling on Fox 5 and also the two-toned alerts of the phone system.

Glen tried not to think about the nail clippers, or people talking in Spanish, or the black man sweating on the M train.

He tried not to think about the odors of antiseptic, urine, or vomit, or the dust on the blinds by his mother's bed. He tried not to think of Con Edison or Verizon or the Evrecon Rental Management Company.

Glen most definitely tried not to think about roaches, beetles, or worms.

His mother opened her eyes.

“I don't know, Glen. I'm only your mother. I don't know.”

She closed her eyes again. In a moment she was asleep.

Brahms continued to play. Glen listened to the Allegro. Then he listened to the silence on the rest of the tape.

When the button on the player popped up, Glen got out of the guest chair. He picked up the cassette player, put it in his duffel. He took off his tie, and put that back, too. He unbuttoned his top button. He zipped up the duffel, picked it up, and walked down the hall.

He passed Loren, and nodded at him.

The sun set over 85^th Street as Glen walked back to his train.

© 2011 Michael Bernstein