Cheyenne Bowen
Creative Writing
Ms. Palmer
September 30, 2014
Vindication
Leann hopped onto the A train at 175th street. It seemed a bit more crowded, but
compared to every other train in the city, it was light work. The electronic beep sounded as the
train doors closed and the train began to hurtle down the tunnel. She watched as the signs flew
past the window and began to count to herself ‘168th street, 155th street, 135th… 135th street?’ She
must not have heard the conductor, but as loud as her music was, who could blame her?
As “Papaoutai” by Stromae flowed through her Bluetooth Stereo headphones, rendering her deaf
for as long as the song continued to play, Leann bobbed her head to beat subtly and she tightened
her grip on the silver pole that stood between the train doors and her. She stopped counting.
“Quoi, qu'on y croit ou pas y aura bien un jour où on y croira plus I don’t know the rest of the
words et d'un jour à l'autre on aura disparu…” she sang to herself in an atrocious French accent.
She began to do a two-step to the indietronica French cadence, which wasn’t the brightest idea
considering the fact that she was on a train that was speeding down a tunnel at 40 miles per hour
that could very well stop at any time. Which it did. The train jerked to a stop in the middle of her
dance making her lose her grip on the pole and sending her flying headlong into the nearest
passenger off to her left.
“I am so…” her sentence trailed off as she looked up to meet the sparkling dark brown eyes of a
six foot tall black man in a navy blue pinstripe suit, powder blue shirt, and silver and grey striped
tie. He had a dark chocolate complexion and his skin was flawless. He smiled and Leann thought
she would collapse. His teeth were the epitome of white.
“Sorry?” his voice broke through her thoughts.
“I’m sorry?” she asked quizzically, a bit louder than she had intended.
“I was finishing your sentence for you.” She quickly lifted herself from him and pulled her
headphones from her ears to rest around her neck as he laughed “A bit loud there though. Are
you okay?”
“Oh, crap, I’m sorry.” She hastily, and awkwardly, pulled her Galaxy S5 from her pocket and
shut off the music “Yeah, I’m fine. OH! Sorry about, you know, crashing into you and stuff.”
She grabbed the nearest pole as she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.
“It’s not a problem. It’s not every day a beautiful woman with tattoos to boot crashes into me on
the train.” His voice was deep, but soft. Like silk, almost. She quickly looked down and smiled.
“Thank you.”
“Not a problem. Just stating the obvious, is all.” He flashed his Colgate smile once again and
Leann felt her body temperature rising. She couldn’t respond.
‘Get it together, Leann!’ She thought to herself ‘There is a sexy black man talking to you.
Respond! Get ‘cho flirt on ASAP.’ Leann took a deep breath, tilted her head to one side, gave a
sly smile, and kicked the flirting into high gear.
“Is that so?” ‘There is no way that I ain’t taking him home with me.’
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Leann had been so interested in the mystery man, dubbed Michael, that she didn’t even
realize the train had been stopped for about 10 minutes in between 125th street and 116th street. A
crackling came over the loudspeaker, slicing through the quiet mutterings of the impatient New
Yorkers, followed by a voice that would change the course of Leann’s reality.
“Listen up fuckers! We’re robbing this train.” The train car went dead. Leann felt her breath
hitch in her throat and she couldn’t speak. Her eyes widened so big she thought they would pop
out of her head. The voice spoke again “We are coming through the cars to collect your shit, so
watches, jewelry, cellular devices, everything, out. And please,” it added in an almost
exasperated tone “We have guns, so keep that in mind.” And so, chaos ensued.
“Son, I just got the iPhone 6!”
“No one cares about your damn phone. I have children to worry about.”
“Why don’t we just give them what they want so we can all go home?”
“Someone call 911!”
“We’re in a train station, dimwit!” Those were just the conversations Leann caught in between
the alternating waves of panic and intense fear. Her head was swimming. ‘Robbing? They’re
robbing the train? How in the world did I get here?’
“Leann?” Michael’s voice broke through her thoughts and brought her back to the current
situation ‘Are you okay? You look really… pale.” Leann could feel the unnaturally cold sweat
forming on her palms.
“Yeah, just… let me sit down.” She took a couple steps back until she felt the door against her
knapsack and she slid down onto the floor. She stared at the floor trying her hardest to not faint.
“Where’s your stuff?”
“Uh?” Leann slowly raised her head to find Michael on one knee in front of her, looking at her
“Your stuff. Cellphone, wallet, all the stuff he asked for.” Michael generally looked concerned
and Leann desperately wanted to answer, but she couldn’t find the words. Or her voice. So she
meekly pointed to the drawstring sack she carried on her back. Michael gently reached behind
her and removed the bag, allowing her to feel the cool metal on her back, helping to keep her
grounded.
“They’re coming!” she heard someone shout and her heart began to thud in her chest so hard she
thought she might bruise. Her breathing became erratic and she reached out for Michael.
“Hey, hey, I’m right here. Don’t worry.” He took off his jacket and wrapped her in it, making her
smile and feel a little better. About thirty seconds later, she heard a faint sliding of a door and
footsteps at the other end of the car. Leann tensed up.
“Relax. I won’t let them hurt you.” For a guy I just met, he seems very protective.’
“Alright! You know the drill. Drop your shit in the bag as I come through, and no one has to get
shot today.” Leann could hear the smile at the end of his sentence and wanted to gag.
“What an asshole.” She mumbled and Michael chuckled as he stood up to wait on the guy to
finish his rounds
“You are all so cooperative.” The man moved through the cart, footsteps followed by the sound
of phones and wallets being dropped onto one another. His voice continued to get closer and
Leann curled into an even tighter ball, bringing her knees to her chest and trying not to look up.
“Thank you, thank you kind sir. Gosh, you are all so–” the footsteps stopped extremely close to
Leann and she dreaded what was about to happen “Oh my god!” Leann knew that the voice did
not belong to Michael, but she didn’t recognize it. It was a bit higher, but still deep, and had a
very Italian twinge to it.
“That is you!” she had no choice to look up and was greeted by light brown eyes and large smile,
“Out of my way, dude.” The mystery man poked Michael hard in the right shoulder with his SIG
Pro to move out of his and Michael put his hands up and moved to the left of him.
“It’s Joey!”
“Joey?” Leann felt that he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him
“Joey Marcell!” his smile began to falter a little as recognition hadn’t registered on Leann’s face
just yet.
“I’m sorry, I don’t…” Leann knew that this was the wrong answer for someone holding a gun,
but what could she do?
“Oh… Haha… That’s alright, I guess.” The end of Joey Marcell’s sentence was punctuated by
him grabbing Leann by the front of her shirt and pulling her up forcefully and unexpectedly. He
dropped the bag of loot and slammed her against the door window hard, knocking the wind out
of her. She cringed at the loss of oxygen and sucked in what was left when she felt the barrel of
the gun in the center of her forehead.
“Do you remember now? You picked me up at The Pony Bar, we went back to my place, and the
next morning, you left a fucking note on my pillow saying you would call and never did?” he
pressed the barrel harder into her forehead as he watched the recognition register and her eyes
opened wide to look at him.
“Oh my god...” She managed to choke out as she used two hands to grab his fist and get him to
loosen the pressure on her chest, but he didn’t notice.
“Ah, yeah. So, riddle me this,” he pressed more forcefully into her chest and head as he brought
his face closer to hers “Why didn’t you call me? And be honest. Honesty is the best policy.” He
then cocked the gun for motivation. Leann couldn’t respond, partly from the shock and partly
from the lack of air. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and shook her head to stay
conscious
“Any day now, Leann. You’re holding these lovely people up, you know.”
“Well, if you would… Let up, I could…” she barely choked out half her sentence
“Oh, so this is my fault now?” Joey was in disbelief ‘I AM NOT THE ONE WHO DOES NOT
KNOW HOW TO PICK UP A PHONE AND CALL SOMEONE WHEN THEY SAY THEY
ARE GOING TO CALL SOMEONE.” With every word, Joey shook the gun at Leann more
forcefully as she tried to keep her head as far from the barrel of the handgun as possible. “You
know what? I did not appreciate you leaving me hanging like that puttana.”
“I’m sorry! I was going to call, but–”
“Save it.” Joey let her shirt go and turned around as if he were going to walk away. Leann took a
quick breath in as, in one swift motion; he spun back around, stuck his arm out, and put a bullet
in her forehead. Leann’s body slid down the train door, exposing the hole in the glass, now
covered in blood and parts of her half-exposed brain. “I don’t take rejection well.”
There was not a breath taken as Joey leaned down to Leann’s lifeless body, seated on the ground,
got down on one knee, and took her face in his hands. “We could’ve had something special. I
really liked you.” Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he pressed a kiss to Leann’s lips. “God,
I will really… fucking miss you… Nina.” Joey continued his trek towards the end of the car,
collecting his prizes as tears welled up in Michael’s eyes.