Trains

Maurice Prendergast, Central Park, c. 1901

Molly’s hair was flat at the crown, and her makeup had spread. It overran her features now; it gave her a watercolor effect.

Even her clothing looked different. As if it denatured — as if, in the heat, its threads had loosened.

Molly felt awful. She felt like a wet dog.

She and Joe were at a subway station. They had been for about ten minutes; their train was late because of a signal problem.

Molly suggested walking. “At least outside we get the occasional breeze!” But Joe refused. “We’ve waited too long,” he said. “I’m committed now.” And he looked toward the tunnel, which was dark as death.

Joe often said things like this. He was always taking a stance.

But those stances were random, Molly thought. They were insubstantial. Joe had conviction without philosophy, opinions but no real values.

As time went on, Molly read all the nearby signage. The maps and ads, the etiquette posters. She read them with literary zeal. She wanted a distraction, from the heat and Joe. To obliterate any existing thought.

There was an ad for As You Like It at the Delacorte. “Have you ever seen Shakespeare in the Park?” Molly asked. “I have not,” Joe answered.

He paused, then said, “Have you?”

The question surprised Molly. She responded eagerly, with a radiant smile. Like he had proposed. “Yes, a few times.” “That’s cool.” “Yeah. It’s definitely worth doing at least once. You go on a nice summer night, sit beneath the stars…sometimes they get celebrities.” “Really. Like who?” “Well, just from the shows I’ve seen: John Lithgow and Annette Bening in King Lear, Amy Adams in Into the Woods, Anne Hathaway in Twelfth Night; I saw that when I was thirteen, with my aunt Michelle. But yeah, lots of people. And everyone lines up for tickets and sits on the ground for hours.” “That’s fucking insane.” “It’s not that bad! You bring a chair and a book and snacks, and that’s it, you’re all set.” “What if you have to go to the bathroom?” “You make friends with the people next to you in line, and they save your spot. And then you go as fast as you can.” “I’m sorry, that sounds terrible.” “Well, I’ll never make you do it, I promise!” Molly tried to sound relaxed and happy.