The Cracks in the Labyrinth

Chapter 11 (Part 2)

Adam struggled through the crowd to get into the Metro car as other passengers pushed to get off. Today is a terrible day to ride the subway, he thought while people squeezed tight and fast around him, fighting for any scrap of floor space inside. Some of them looked upset, and others relished in the anarchy.

"Stop grabbing my ass," a woman shouted.

"What's your name, dude?" a man asked the guy behind him. "If I get pregnant, I want to name it after his father."

"Back off!"

Adam heard many complaining, plenty of curse words, and a few jokes as they crammed themselves inside. This is why we deserve what is happening to us. After two people bumped into him, Adam checked his pockets. He knew someone would end up without his wallet, and if he didn't want to be that person, finding a place to sit down as fast as possible was his best recourse.

This proved impossible, however. The throng of passengers was like a strong river current that left Adam with no space between his back and the closing doors.

The subway car made a screech, and soon the tum-tum of the train moving at top speed was felt throughout the entire wagon floor. I can't breathe, he realized, unable to think about anything besides the heat, the noise, and the pungent smell of body odor. Above him, the bright white lights flickered when they were about to stop at the next station. Then Adam noticed, just in time, that the guy sitting close to him was leaving. Lucky! In a quick motion, he almost jumped to sit as the other man stood up.

"Oh, thank God."

No sooner had his buttocks touched the seat when he felt the reproaching gaze of an older woman. Well over seventy years old, she struggled to keep her balance as she held onto the tube above with one hand and clutched a package of Harina PAN with her other arm.

Shit, he hadn't noticed she was waiting for that spot. Stand up and let her take it. Then he saw a young man wearing a Leones del Caracas baseball cap eying him too. If I move, he will try to get it first. Besides, two kids that Adam didn't dare to look at had gotten on at the previous station. Better stay here and go unnoticed.

The Metro continued on its clattering way on the underground tracks.

As they left the closed-off areas behind, the wagon grew emptier, and the medley of smells dissipated. Soon more people were sitting down than standing up.

This isn't so bad, he grinned.

"Ladies and gentleman..." said one of the two kids Adam hadn't dared to look at. He was tall and had his ears pierced. "This is a robbery."

Adam's throat closed up.

"No, man," said the guy with the sleeve tattoos. "I told you, we don't do that anymore."

"We don't?" asked Pierced Earlobes, scratching his head. "In that case, never mind. We are not robbers."

"Nor Jehovah witnesses," Tattoo Sleeves joked.

Some passengers showed relief, not Adam, though. Delinquents or not, these guys wanted something.

"We are here to share our art," Pierced Earlobes said. "Hit it!"

Tattoo Sleeves started beatboxing, and he rapping.

Although they were in front of Adam, he tried to keep his eyes on the ground (as well as several passengers), while others enjoyed their performance so much they recorded it with their smartphones.

My kingdom for a pair of headphones, said Adam to himself, shocked that the woman clasping the Harina PAN sitting to his right was nodding at the syncopated rhythm of the music.