Stories From The Subway

Charlotte loved the subway, partially for its anonymity but mostly because she loved to imagine fantastic stories about her fellow commuters based upon what she observed. Today, of all days, she needed the distraction.

Across from her sat a man in a white suit, he had the looks of someone that might have been a movie star in his youth, but the lines on his face told of a hard life. She imagined him as a high-stakes gambler, used to winning big and living the high life but who was now down on his luck. Three seats down sat a young woman wearing ear buds, sipping coffee and sporting a high ponytail. Charlotte imagined her as a medical student, learning how to save lives while fighting her way through a patriarchal system. She could write a book about her, she thought to herself.

The train came to a stop at 72nd street/Central Park West. As the imagined medical student rose to exit the train, Charlotte noticed a little black notebook on the seat next to her.

"Miss, you forgot your notebook!", Charlotte called out loudly to get through whatever music was playing through the girl's ear buds.

"That's not mine.", called the girl in response as she left the train.

Charlotte picked up the notebook. Notebooks were precious to her in her line of work and she immediately empathized with whomever lost it. Surely the owner must be worried about their missing journal.

"The Only Way is Up", Charlotte read the words on the cover of the book. The irony made her laugh out loud.

Charlotte opened the book looking for the name of the owner, instead she found the first entry.

Ernesto bought me this notebook and a fountain pen for my 30th birthday. I don't know how he saved the money, but I wanted to chastise him for spending it on me. Then I felt like an idiot for thinking such things. His little face beamed with immense joy, knowing how much I love books and writing, and being able to give his mama what he must have thought to be the best gift in the world...He was right, it was!

Intrigued, Charlotte continued reading. She discovered that the owner was a single mother raising her son alone.

Ernesto started in the band today. The look of astonishment on his face when I gave him that worn out violin was made of the stuff that keeps me going. I felt like a fool buying that beat up instrument with all of those beautiful new ones lined up. I don't care, I will endure a thousand embarrassments if it means that my beautiful little boy gets to be happy. The fact that he wanted to play the violin reminded me of the times his father would play the violin for him when he was a baby. Felipe could make the dourest of souls explode with joy, or the happiest weep with sorrow at the sound his bow made on those strings (Felipe, not a day goes by I don't miss you! God rest your beautiful soul).

On the bright side, I have reached 90 days with Consolidated Cleaners. That means 50 cents more an hour, every little bit counts..... Heading Up!!!

Charlotte continued to read. She found the trials and tribulations of this mother and her son gripping. She did not write every day, and clearly this notebook spanned years of her memories. Charlotte became more determined than ever to see this notebook returned to her.

Ernesto made first chair in orchestra today! He came running up the stairs, his backpack flailing in one hand, his violin case in the other, screaming like a banshee about how he was chosen for first chair violin in his school's Christmas program (Mrs. Arbuckle in 205 did not share his enthusiasm). I know he is only 12 years old, but he is so quickly becoming a man that I sometimes grieve at the thought of losing him to maturity, but the sight of the excited little boy in him running to tell his Mama, is a moment I will cherish forever.

Also, I started a new job today. Hopefully the owner of this company will not think my body comes with the paycheck like the last one did

Charlotte imagined meeting this mystery woman, returning her notebook to her and the two of them becoming fast friends. She imagined them sitting together at Carnegie Hall, listening to Ernesto play with the New York Symphony Orchestra. The smile quickly left Charlotte's face as she remembered that it would never happen.

Ernesto has found a girlfriend; she is in his orchestra class and plays saxophone. Although I try to be the disapproving mother, I cannot help but like this girl. She has a free spirit and is so full of hope and optimism. I can understand what Ernesto sees in her. When she comes over and they play music together, they sound like angels. I love this joy in our house, but he is so young; I just don't want him to lose his innocence at 14.

Charlotte read on. The pages of their lives unfolded before her eyes, their victories and defeats, their successes and failures, were all in the little black book before her. Eventually, she reached the final entry, it was dated today. Water stains had caused the ink to bleed on the page.

My Heart is broken. Today I got the best and worst news I could ever get. My beautiful little boy has been offered a scholarship to Julliard Academy. His chance to become the shining star I always knew he could be. But even with the scholarship, I could never afford the residual to send him. He will have to miss his golden opportunity because I am a failure. Even with the extra money from cleaning apartments in Manhattan, it would take me years to save up that much. I only have three months before the end of the school year, maybe if I take another job and borrow money, I can pull it together in time....

Charlotte closed the book.

Maria was numb as she cooked. Chillaquillas were Ernesto's favorite food, and he deserved a good meal. Tonight, she would do the hardest thing she had ever done. Harder than leaving her home behind and coming here. Harder than sleeping in subway stations upon arriving in New York. Harder than working three jobs these past several months. Tonight, she must break her little boy's heart by telling him he won't be going to Julliard and fulfilling his dream of being a famous violinist, and it was because of her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. A man in a suit stood on the other side of the peephole in the triple locked door.

"Yes", said Maria as she answered the door.

"Maria Valdez?", asked the strange man.

"Who wants to know?", answered Maria suspiciously.

"My name is Clinton Callaway; I am a private investigator representing the estate of Charlotte Wray. One of her last wishes was for me to find you and return this." said Clinton as he handed her the notebook.

"Do you mean Charlotte Wray the Author? She died?" exclaimed Maria. She glanced at the coffee table that held a worn paperback of Charlotte Wray's latest book, 'How Far We Have Come'. Her uplifting books were one of the things that helped keep Maria positive for so many years.

"Yes" said Clinton, "She had been suffering from a particularly aggressive form of brain cancer for the past three months. "It was kept out of the media."

Maria accepted the notebook. It was the diary that she had lost on the subway.

Maria opened it, and on the last page was printed the words. "Thank you for bringing me up. I wish I could have heard Ernesto Play"

Taped to the page was a check made out to Maria Valdez...for twenty thousand dollars.