But that man was someone he had once been and no longer was – someone he’d left behind in the dust as he trod the path that had made him the Teacher.
Now he could vividly imagine beating her to death with the Bugaboo stroller.
The roar of the arriving New York City-bound train mounted in the Teacher’s ears, and its weight subtly tilted the concrete platform beneath his feet.
“All aboard!” the conductor called from the ringing doors.
Next stop, the Teacher thought, as he joined the other passengers stepping onto the train: Revelation.
Chapter 6
About an hour later, the Teacher stepped onto the 34th Street subway platform for the 2 and 3 trains. It was eight thirty-five A.M., the height of rush hour, and the strip of cement was jam-packed with all stripes of humanity from one grimy end to the other.
He walked to the platform edge’s warning line, near the southern end of the downtown side. On his right was a homeless man who smelled like an open sewer, and on his left, a young female strap hanger, talking loudly on her cell phone.
The Teacher tried to ignore them both. He had tremendously important things to think about. But while he succeeded with the homeless man, it was impossible to shut out the brazen young hussy who was punishing everyone within earshot with the details of her boring, pointless life.
He watched her out of his peripheral vision. She was eighteen or nineteen, tall and thin, and, like her squawking voice, her appearance was all about calling attention to herself – dark tan set off by hair bleached an unnatural white, oversized shades, and a pink cutoff designer hoodie that revealed a diamond belly stud in front and one of those oh-so-original, above-the-butt, slut tattoos in the back.
Forced to hear her rant about her purebred dachshund’s hernia operation through mouthfuls of her onion bagel, he actually found himself leaning more and more toward the reeking Dumpster diver.