The subway stopped. Cade and I watched the conductor come out of his little compartment, announcing a momentary delay as he walked off the train. He puffed to the next car with a short man following him. “It’s in this car,” the man said to the conductor, sounding as eager to please as a child.
The more curious straphangers stood to rubberneck. Cade said maybe it was a fight. Or an unconscious passenger. Or maybe, maybe he should stretch his legs right about now. Before he could stand and gawk with the rest of those guys who got sidelined on their way to dinner in Koreatown, the conductor stepped out of the next car, gingerly holding a backpack.
“Hey, look! If you see something, say something,” I whispered, reciting those ads all over the subway stations.
Not that the backpack looked especially menacing. It was small and far from brimming with explosives. If it were ticking, the sounds would probably be coming from a pedometer or a Tamagotchi. Still, I guess you never know. We did recently see Day Night Day Night.
We watched the conductor give the backpack a shake and then carry it back to his compartment on our car.
“Yay! The explosives will get to us first!” Cade exclaimed in mock terror. “It’s been nice knowing you, Mandy, but I wish we could die on a full stomach.”
“Well, I’m not that hungry,” I replied.
Neither was the conductor. I think he ate some kid’s afternoon snacks out of that backpack the rest of the way.
