hero – Papagni Pages

It was another ordinary work day. Kyle showered, dressed, and drank his coffee in two large gulps before heading to the subway. It was the kind of day New Yorkers loved to hate: hazy, hot and humid. Kyle’s thoughts were all over the place; yesterday’s work screw-ups, not answering Lily’s texts, the laundry he hadn’t touched in two weeks and all of the other potential calamities he had no control over. The subway platform was crammed with faceless commuters he was happy to never meet. Large droplets of sweat ran down his back as he boarded the train. With only a tiny bit of space between two other passengers, Kyle closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

About 10 minutes into his ride, the train screeched to a grinding halt. Everyone in his subway car was propelled forward and then backwards. He had to apologize to several people whom he nearly knocked to the ground. Subway riders normally show no signs of concern when this happens; it being an almost daily occurrence. Seconds after the stop, all of the lights in Kyle’s car went dark — this too happens often. Everyone held their breath while they waited for the lights to go back on and for the train to start moving again.

Kyle started feeling anxious after several minutes of no lights and no announcement. It was normally the one thing you could count on, a moment of quiet and then you’re on your way.

“Passengers, we are experiencing some signal problems, but we will be moving momentarily.”

What Kyle waited for, but no announcement was heard. Passengers began talking to one another. The AC had gone out when the lights went out, the subway car was quickly becoming sweltering hot — it felt as if the air was being sucked out of the train. It was a faint odor, but Kyle thought he smelled smoke. Someone yelled,

“Does anyone else smell smoke?”

At this point they’d been sitting in the dark for about eight minutes. Kyle asked the people around them if they were okay. He assured one of his fellow passengers that this happened all the time and he was certain they’d start moving in a matter of moments. A very pregnant woman on his right seemed distressed. He asked her if she was okay and she shook her head from side-to-side.

People started coughing as the subway car filled with smoke. The emergency lights had come on, but it was too dark and smoky to see anything. It wasn’t until that moment, that Kyle realized they were in a tunnel. He was surprised how quiet the car was despite the circumstances. Coughing and sniffling were the only sounds heard. And then finally an announcement:

“Passengers, this is your conductor, please remain calm as we assess our situation. I’ll be back with another update soon.”

I began to sense panic all around me. People were opening the doors between the two subway cars only to discover the car next to us was also filled with smoke. The pregnant woman grabbed my arm and spoke,

“Estoy embarazada de ocho meses y tengo mucho miedo.”

My high school Spanish kicked in and I told her to stay calm. I let her know that I would help her.

“No te preocupes, solo quédate cerca.”

She squeezed my arm and put her head down. I was happy to see that she had a bottle of water. She held it out to offer me some, but I was too preoccupied to think about how thirsty I was. It had to be 110 degrees and there was no ventilation. A few passengers managed to open the windows, but the smoke had filled the tunnel as well, so it made no difference.

“Okay people, here’s the situation: there is a fire about 50 feet in front of the train. The fire department has been notified and they’re on their way. Sit tight and drink water if you have any; and if you have extra, share it. The train can’t move so we just have to wait for help.”

After the announcement people started screaming. Kyle was concerned about the amount of smoke filling the subway car and how packed it was. He could hear children crying in another part of the car.

He started thinking he might not get out of this alive. He looked at his cell phone, but he had no bars; who would he call anyway? Kyle was a low-key kind of guy, but he loved outdoor adventures; he hadn’t yet had a chance to skydive, hang glide, or rock climb in Thailand. These thoughts entered and exited quickly, bringing him sadness and remorse. Why hadn’t he been more aggressive about pursuing his dreams.

Of course he knew the answer. He just buried his father weeks ago. Sam, Kyle’s father, had been suffering with a rare bone disease for the past two years. At first it was just minor aches and pains, but by the time they figured out what was wrong, Sam was in a wheelchair and his bones were brittle. Kyle made the decision to spend every weekend and all of his free time with his father. That was a decision he’d never regret. Another announcement interrupted his thoughts:

“Okay people, help is on the way. They’re putting out the track fire, but we won’t be able to move. We’re going to have to evacuate the train and make our way through the tunnel to the station. The good news is that the station is not far away.”

The pregnant woman holding onto Kyle started quietly crying into his elbow. At that moment, he stopped caring about his own escape; his life. This young woman needed him, that’s what mattered. He asked her what her name was. She told him it was Cara. He calmly whispered,

“Listen Cara, we’re going to get out of here. I promise I won’t let you go. You’ll be breathing fresh air in a few minutes.”

Cara nodded and moved closer to Kyle. Everyone around them was crying. The heat and smoke were causing some people to pass out; Kyle was hoping Cara would stay awake. He removed his t-shirt and told Cara to cover her mouth with it. She did as he asked and once again offered Kyle some water — this time he took a big gulp.

A commotion could be heard in the tunnel. Kyle wasn’t sure if they’d started rescuing the passengers, every second seemed like an eternity. Kyle heard one of the doors of the subway car opening. People were slowly exiting the car; the hacking coughing sounds were drowning out all of the other sounds. The smoke inhalation was keeping the passengers from rushing to the open door. Kyle signaled Cara to walk toward the door. She held onto his arm and motioned for him to lead. When they reached the door it was too smoky to see the inside of the tunnel, but someone was telling them to step down carefully.

Once in the tunnel, people were shouting:

“Get as close to the ground as possible.”

Kyle was hoping the smoke was killing the rats — he hated rats and he knew from seeing them race across the tracks daily, that they were well fed and large. For now, getting Cara to safety was his priority; he erased all other thoughts.

“Stand wherever you are and wait for a first responder to get to you. If the electricity returns, you could be killed by the third rail.”

Cara was shaking at this point and he could feel her tear drops on his arm. They stood in silence for a long time. Kyle decided he should shout out to the rescuers:

“There is a very pregnant woman here. Please come for her first.”

Cara seemed to understand the message. Moments later a masked first responder was asking where she was.

“She’s here, she’s here.”

The responder approached them asking for the woman to wave her arms in the air; Kyle did it for her. He stepped up to them saying,

“Put this mask on and hold onto my belt.”

The man told Kyle to wait and someone would get to him. It was too dangerous to walk in a group. Kyle told Cara in Spanish that he’d see her soon. She didn’t want to leave him and he had to almost push her away. Cara reached over and kissed him on the cheek,

“Muchas gracias, amigo. Nos vemos pronto.”

He hoped Cara was right. People all around Kyle were being led away, he’d assumed to safety. Each time an emergency worker in a mask approached him, he told them to go to someone else. After some time Kyle felt sleepy. He got down onto the edge of the tracks and closed his eyes. He knew at this point that he wouldn’t make it out alive, but he was certain Cara would. He was grateful to his family and friends for having been in his life. Kyle was not a religious man; however, he knew that the natural order of things would make things right. The thought that gave him comfort, was that he’d made a difference; he closed his eyes with the absence of fear and regret.

_________________________

When I lived in New York City, there were two things I thought about every time I took the subway: fire and rats. This fictional story has probably actually taken place in reality several times. We live among heroes.

Current State-of-Mind

A bit anxious about Barcelona on the 9th. Portugal’s airport staff is striking until midnight on the 9th and apparently they will be cancelling many flights. If mine gets cancelled, I’m not sure how I’d get there. I haven’t travelled for a while and I’ve been looking forward to this trip. And even if they don’t cancel my flight, the strike starts back up the day before I’m scheduled to return home. Not much I can do except wait and hope that it works out. I wish there were other ways for workers to impact corporate management. I can’t say I wasn’t warned.

My Paco has had a left ear and left nostril infection for six months. Two different vets have tried multiple medications and the problem is not going away. It’s either a resistant bacteria, mites, allergies, or a bigger issue in his ear canal or nostril. They’ve suggested invasive surgery, but for me, that’s a last resort. It bothers me because it bothers him.

The political situation has me wondering how bad it will get before it gets better. When I consider the plight of the people of Gaza and Ukraine; my personal concerns seem small in comparison.

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorns have roses.” – Alphonse Karr

. . . She’s Barbara

This is not Barbara

Barbara is an older woman, I’m guessing in her sixties or early seventies. I may someday be surprised to learn she is in her eighties, she has a youthful aura. She lives somewhere in the building next to mine. I’ve seen her in several different apartments (from my window), although I cannot tell you which one is hers. My guess is that I see her in different places because she is helping people in her building. I have known Barbara for nearly four years, but I don’t actually know her. We bump into one another almost every day. She is almost always smiling and she almost always has her dog Beckis (sp? pronounced Beck ish) and her cat Toy walking beside her. Neither animal is on a leash; however, they never stray too far. Well that’s not entirely true, sometimes I spot her looking under bushes for Beckish — calling her known, knowing she couldn’t have gone too far.

I believe Barbara is Portuguese, I’m not certain and I’ve learned not to assume. I know she speaks Portuguese and that she knows no English; not even hello or goodbye (perhaps she’s shy — like me with Portuguese). I can tell she wants to speak English, if only to communicate with me. I’m learning Portuguese so that I can communicate with her. We have a common interest that has formed a mutual affection since the day we met on the street. Barbara’s Beckis is old and moves very slowly. Through our made-up sign language and hand gestures, I have learned that Beckis is about thirteen years old. Toy, a black cat who is never more than three feet away, has terminal cancer; Toy is hand fed and heavily medicated. Barbara cares for these two 24/7; in addition, she feeds every feral cat in the neighborhood. Volunteers take cats in to be neutered, so there aren’t hundreds or thousands. I believe one ear is clipped as a marker, but I’m not 100% sure. The neighborhood cats depend on her and adore her and she never fails them. I’m not a religious man, but I know an angel when I encounter one. Barbara is not looking for awards, prizes or praise, her satisfaction comes from the love they shower upon her.

When I lived in New York and Maine, because of my early outings with Giorgio, I encountered many street rats — feasting on urban garbage; dropped on the sidewalk chicken bones and pizza. As I walk Paco through the streets of Faro during the wee hours, I never see or hear rats. I’m sure they exist, but I’m also certain that the cats are keeping the rat population under control. We have Barbara to thank for this.

Four months after relocating to Faro, I lost Giorgio to heart disease. Although he lived three or four years longer than his vet’s expected, I was beyond consolable. Here I was, alone and without a grasp of the language. My friends and family were thousands of miles away, unable to console me in person. The day I put Giorgio down, it was late morning when I left the vet and I was walking mindlessly toward my building. Barbara saw me and mimed a question regarding Giorgio’s whereabouts. I pointed toward the sky and shook my head in despair. This woman who only knew me from the street, reached out her arms and held me as I wept. No words were exchanged, only love, compassion, and the assurance that I was not alone.

Humans are creatures of habit and pets love routine; therefore, I mostly see the same faces when I’m out with Paco. When Paco sees Barbara his tail wags and he whines cheerfully. She usually calls his name, putting emphasis on the P and the c — sounding something like Pa koo. Barbara almost always lifts Paco high over her head and shouts, “O rei do seu domínio.” For awhile I had no idea what she was saying. One day I mentally noted her words and looked them up when I got home. She is stating that Paco is the king of his domaine. Indeed she is correct, Paco rules. I don’t think you have to be a pet owner to understand why this bond, created as a result of a common adoration, is so real and special. Barbara is my hero. Her warmth, unbridled joy, and loyalty, make her one of my favorite humans. During quarantine, I made sure that I got to see Barbara every day. I believe her approach to life and her altruism are a lesson for all of us. You don’t have to be a world leader or activist to make a difference in the lives of others.

I’m not sure how much longer Beckis and Toy have left. I find a great comfort in knowing that they have Barbara to care for them as their health declines. I know that they are probably remaining alive partly for Barbara’s sake — dogs and cats no doubt live almost entirely to serve us. I don’t like to think about how their deaths will affect Barbara. I know that I will be there for her, just as she was there for me. Showing up for someone without fanfare or payment, is the essence of human kindness. Be that someone a family member, friend or a person you only see on the street. Barbara has taught me that and so much more.