Cameron Stevens

The Commuter

The elevated rail rocked and clicked its way north, towards downtown. It was just another loud, swaying commute. A commute Andre made at least twice daily for what seemed to be much of his life. He rode that same line for as long as he could remember. As a boy, with his mother, where she worked as a hotel housekeeper. As a teenager, to Middlestadt College Preparatory Academy, where the nation’s best medical professionals came from. Chicago’s best school, his mother found herself working two jobs to afford tuition. She had always underscored the value of higher education. She did not want Andre to have to stress and work long hours for minimum wage his entire life, like she did. As an adult, Andre rode the train to the same hotel his mother worked at, only as a valet on the late afternoon shift. They would always meet one another on the platform, Andre disembarking to finish the block and a half walk to the hotel, his mother, exhausted from a long day’s work, boarding for home. The young man was excelling in school and was on schedule to be his class’ valedictorian.