It’s midnight on the northbound Howard el. Two boys riding together are sitting on separate seats. They’re 11 or 12 so it’s too late for them to be out, and they’re making the most of it, cracking jokes and sprawling across their seats.
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The train fills up downtown–this is the cleaning ladies’ express–and some people have to stand. But no one tells the boys to move their feet. The train sits at Washington longer than usual. Those of us in the last car can see the headlights of the next train coming up behind us.
The conductor finally gets on the mike to tell us that we’re going express to Belmont. Both boys hoot. Some people get off the train to wait for the next. Then the doors close and we’re off toward Belmont.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Something smells,” he says, smirking. The other one laughs.
