Wraiths in the night Thursday, January 19, 2012
I’m at home
working as I wait to make the trip to
I spent a
good portion of last night navigating the public transportation system after
the council meeting, choosing to make the trip to the light rail rather than
chance the bus system along
The last
time I went to take a bus after a meeting, I stood in the dark for an hour
until the bus came – no, not one bus, but two – and I was so desperate I got on
the first one, finding myself like a refugee among other refugees, stuffed
between packages and people while watching the second nearly empty bus pass us
by.
The walk
was not significant, even in the cold, but the station at
An out of
service train rushed through the station as if on fire like the train in
Spielberg’s War of the Worlds, beeping his horn the whole time.
Rather than
sit in the cold, I hopped the train bound the other way, figuring it was better
to be warm and seated than to stomp my feet on a platform alone. Passed my
office the train went, then down to the new station on 8th Street, where we
piled out, and the conductors separated some of the cars, reducing the size the
train by half, then let the few passengers waiting there into the remaining
cars.
As we
waited another train pulled in on the other side, turned off its lights to wait
out the night for the rush the next morning.
We took off
a few minutes later, stopping at the stops I had passed on the way down, frigid
people piling in like the refugees from my previous bus trip, all of them cold,
all of them needing to catch this train than wait for the next one not due for
a hour, each stop adding to the fullness of the car so that I struggled to get
out at Liberty State Park where I had to change to the Tonnelle Avenue train.
This was
more populated, but not greatly. A few people on the far side waiting for
trains to either West Side Avenue or
In the
parking lot across the street, the security guard’s vehicle – now decorated in
orange lights along its side – continued to prowl the lot, checking on empty
spaces, like one of those bored tigers I used to see pacing its cage in the
zoo.
The wait
wasn’t long. Although again, missing this train meant more than a half hour
wait until the next one, so there was a rush to get a seat since everyone knew
that the density would only increase with each additional stop, which it did,
people piling in at every stop until I could barely elbow my way out again when
I reached the 9th Street station in Hoboken for my ride up the
elevator and my walk through Jersey City Heights to home.
Driving,
the trip would have taken my less than a half our. This trip had taken me an
hour and a half.
Walking on
either end of the trip to or from the train, I was struck by how lonely the
world is at night. Jersey City, Bayonne, even Hoboken haven’t changed to the
degree we all believe, still a stark landscape after dark, with isolated
characters like myself making our way through dark streets headed to unknown
destinations, trying to sort out in our heads, why were are here at this time
of night, and what in the end have we gained by the experience, people who are
still wraiths in a gray world seeking answers to questions no one can answer.
Comments
Post a Comment