The Trappers

"Maggie... Maggie... Maggie! MAGGIE!!!!" I startle myself gasping for air in my lungs. I pant like a dog. I'm sweating everywhere, mostly my chest and forehead. I try to ground and remind myself that it was only a dream. My eyes are still closed. I hear what I think sounds like train tracks, but I'm still trying to gather myself and get air in my lungs. I lay still, making sure that I take my time to breathe. Ok Joel... Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale... Last time, inhale... exha- "Excuse my sir." Oh jeez, that scared me. Great. Now my heart's beating fast again. I feel someone patting my shoulder as if I'm dead or something. I don't move. "Excuse me sir! Mr. Trapper!" Go away, I think to myself. Whoever this guy is keeps tapping my shoulder and it annoys the hell out of me. I grunt ever so slightly, flutter my eyes open so I can see that it's not a guy tapping my shoulder but rather a broad shouldered woman. "Yes? Can I help you?" "I just wanted to make sure that you were OK, sir. You were stirring in your sleep and it caused a disruption to our other guests on board. My name is Alice. Please let me know if you need anything." "My bad. Thank you, Alice." I do have a tendency to sleep talk and occasionally, sleep walk. I'm praying I didn't end up doing that on the train.

I open my eyes more, wincing when I see the sun shining right in my eyes. Looks like it's about sunset. 5:07pm is my guess. I check my watch. I'm close, it's 5:10. I sit up and grunt like an old man. Who am I kidding. I'm 59 years old. I am an old man. Or at least bordering old man status. Laying on a bench in a train is not ideal for my back. Wow, and my neck. I give myself a couple slow turns to try and pop my back if I can. Nothing, but the stretch feels good. As I massage my shoulders, I see what a mess I've made. My favorite pen and graded papers are all over the ground. I bend over and pick my stuff up. I must have drifted off while I was grading. I needed something to do to pass the time, so like any normal old man, I brought my students' papers to grade. I'm a college professor at a community college. Bunch of dead-beat kids. Asher, a good friend of mine is also a professor there. He loves it. Like really loves it. Ever since we were kids, he was always the "kill'em with kindness" kind of guy. It's exhausting being around him sometimes. When I left the corporate world to find a more suitable career, Asher suggested that I start teaching and that they were looking for an English professor. I loved writing and being able to make up stories so I said, "Eh, why not?" I've been doing this for 20 years now and all I can think about is old man stuff like "Where has the time gone?" or "Back in my day..." or "Kid's today." or retirement. Ugh. I'm getting bored just thinking about retirement. Forget it.

As I pick up my things, a woman sitting adjacent to the compartment next to mine asks me a question. "Is everything okay?" She's got a worried look on her face. I look at her with kind of an annoyed look because I'm assuming this has to do with my sleep talking. "Yes. I'm fine." "Are you sure? You were calling out a woman's name. Maggie, I believe." I look at her with fire in my eyes. "HOW DARE YOU EAVESDROP ON MY BUSINESS! MIND YOUR OWN, BITCH!" My chest is rising up and down as I try and calm myself down with oxygen. She immediately looks away, quickly gathers her belongings and moves to a different part of the train. Obviously I offended her, but I'm no Asher. I tend to be harsh with my words, or just harsh in general. I'm 59 for gosh sakes. I don't care anymore, except for one thing. I look down at the papers in my right hand, my favorite pen in my left. I turn the pen over and run my thumb over the engraved words: I LOVE YOU AND I LIKE YOU. Tears start to well up in my eyes and I feel my lip start to quiver. Pulling the pen to my chest I whisper, "Don't worry, M. I'm coming for you."