Free Plus One by Elizabeth Fama Page B

strategy, despite the fact that it had already failed me once. The travelers around me had their heads down, with empty faces. They were missing the sights around them, taking their gifts for granted. I wanted to shout at them, Try having cancer, or never seeing a bee forage for pollen . Dopes.
    I had roughly an hour and fifteen minutes to make the round-trip home and back to the hospital, but I hadn’t anticipated losing my phone and therefore having no money for the train. I walked with a crush of people into the station, and when I was next in line for the turnstiles I made a show of checking my jeans pockets. The young man behind me looked like Business Apprentice material all the way: short hair, suit and tie—the kind of kid who already had a firm handshake and knew how to trade in the pits.
    “Crap!” I said, catching his eye. “I lost my monthly pass!”
    He scanned me quickly, taking in the enormity of the disaster in front of him. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe his rotten luck for being behind me while everyone else was on their way up to the tracks, couldn’t believe that I was smart enough to be a Medical Apprentice.
    “Oh, please,” I begged him, “I won’t catch my train if I have to stop to buy a ticket. Can I share yours?”
    “Step out of line,” someone called behind him.
    People stopped queuing behind us, choosing the faster lanes instead.
    “How can anyone be such a mess,” the boy said rather than asked, shoving his card into the slot.
    “It takes more effort than you’d believe.” I felt the turnstile unlock against my weight. I pushed through, grabbed the card on the other end, leaned as far as I could to hand it back to him, and said, “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” I hurried up the stairs to the train, and then stopped short when I reached the platform.
    There was another pair of Hour Guards boarding the first car as arriving passengers disembarked. Running into a random check twice in the span of ten minutes—that had never happened to me at night. I stepped back, lingering, watching through the train’s windows. The cars filled quickly; passengers found their seats and began reading, checking their phones, settling in for a nap, while others stood, holding poles and handgrips with blank faces. The Hour Guards inspected the phone IDs of their first victims, and then moved down the car slowly, examining the passengers, choosing their prey. There was no way I would survive that scrutiny. I looked down the length of the train. Should I board the last car? Would they make their way all the way to the end before my stop, which was only about eleven minutes away? The four-tone gong sounded and an automated voice said, “The doors are closing.” I held the baby firmly through the hoodie and visitor’s gown, and I hurried to the first door of the first car, boarding right behind the Guards. It was a gamble, but I hoped that they wouldn’t turn around and start over, I prayed they’d just keep moving.
    A man got up to give me his seat.
    “That’s okay,” I said, shaking my head, panicked that he was calling attention to me. And then I remembered I was pregnant, so I forced a smile and sat down. He moved to reach a strap, which put his body squarely between me and the view of the Guards. Such luck. My shoulders relaxed; I hadn’t even known I was clenching them by my neck.
    As the train jolted to a start, I closed my eyes. I wanted to see my night world rushing by in sunlight, wanted to savor the one day I’d ever had, but I was being crushed by lack of sleep. Hot tears pooled under my lids.
    I opened my eyes. The man who had given me his seat was staring at me. I couldn’t blame him; I was hard to figure out.
    “May I ask another favor?” I said, my words slurred as if I were drunk. He shrugged, which I took to mean That depends .
    “If I fall asleep, would you be able to wake me at Sixty-third Street?”
    He nodded.
    I had no choice but