Not too close, not too far

The train car was nearly empty, save for two passengers.

A young man sat by the window on the right side of the rear row, occupying the double seat alone. He leaned back in a relaxed posture, scrolling through his phone, its cold blue light reflecting off his fingertips.

Ahead of him, on the left side, a woman sat by the window, wrapped in a dark red coat, her long hair draped over her shoulders. Earphones disappeared into her collar. She faced away from him, her head slightly tilted, gazing at something far beyond the glass, lost in thought.

The heating along the side panels was weak, leaving a lingering chill in the air. A faint scent of disinfectant mixed with traces of perfume. From the train’s connection points came the occasional soft creak of shifting metal.

The train pulled into a station.

Laughter erupted as four young men swaggered into the car, their voices loud, their movements careless. A sharp, acrid scent of marijuana drifted in with them.

The train moved on. The men scanned their surroundings, their eyes quickly settling on the woman.

Crude remarks. Deliberate proximity. The once silent carriage was now thick with unease.

She recoiled slightly, shifting her shoulders away from them, turning toward the window, saying nothing.

In the back row, the young man put away his phone, his gaze sharpening.

He took a deep breath, rose to his feet, and, without hesitation, walked over and sat beside her.

She tensed, drawing back slightly, her eyes filled with surprise as she looked at him.

He met her gaze with a small, reassuring smile and nodded. “Hey.”

Something in her eyes softened.

The men noticed. Their voices lowered, their gazes darkened.

One of them stepped forward, pressing a firm hand onto his shoulder.

"Playing hero, huh?"

Laughter rippled among them, mean-spirited and expectant.

The young man slowly lifted his head, meeting their stares with calm, unhurried eyes. His voice was steady.

"Oh, not at all," he said lightly. "It just felt a little cold sitting in the back by myself. Didn’t feel too safe either."

He gestured toward the woman beside him. "She seemed like a kind person. Thought sitting here might be more comfortable."

His tone was neither confrontational nor submissive, as if he were making small talk about the weather.

The four men exchanged glances. Their amusement wavered.

Their leader narrowed his eyes, chuckling under his breath before smirking at him.

"You trying to impress her?" he sneered. "Think she'll fall for you if you put on a show?"

The young man pressed his lips together for a moment, then shook his head slightly. His voice remained even.

"Do you think everything a man does has to be for a woman?"

"Is simple respect not reason enough?"

The leader licked his lips, clearly displeased. His grip on the young man's shoulder tightened slightly as he leaned in.

"You know martial arts or something?" His voice was louder now, challenging. "Think we’re scared of you?"

The young man adjusted his glasses with a single finger, his lips curving into a faint, unreadable smile.

"Whether I do or not doesn’t really matter."

"But four against one—doesn’t seem too fair, does it?"

The leader hesitated, his gaze flickering. He seemed to be considering something.

The young man tilted his head slightly toward the woman.

"And besides," he continued, "if things got rough, someone might get hurt. Maybe her. And if the police get involved… that wouldn't be ideal for anyone, would it?"

For a brief second, silence settled over the carriage.

The woman stole a glance at him, surprise flickering in her eyes.

The leader glanced at his friends. Their bravado wavered, discomfort creeping in.

Slowly, he released his grip, his fingers tapping lightly against the young man’s chest before he straightened.

"Got guts, I’ll give you that," he muttered.

He scoffed, then jerked his chin toward his crew. "Let’s go."

With lazy, exaggerated strides, they ambled toward the next car.

The air cleared, the tension lifting like smoke.

Minutes later, through the window, they saw the men disembark at the next station.

The woman exhaled, finally breaking the silence.

“Thank you… You really saved me. I was too scared to even speak. I had no idea what to do…”

The young man chuckled softly. “No need to thank me.” His voice was warm, easy. “I was a little scared myself. Sitting here just made me feel safer.”

“If it made you feel safer too, then I’m glad.”

She hesitated, then asked, “But… what if they had really tried to hurt you?”

He smiled lightly, his gaze resting on the faintly swaying metal bars of the train.

"If they had really wanted to, it wouldn't have mattered where I sat, would it?"

She nodded slightly, then asked, “Do you actually know how to fight?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Not really. But I do know how to avoid trouble.” He grinned. “And I can run pretty fast.”

She stifled a laugh, covering her mouth.

After a pause, he spoke again.

“I’m getting off one stop before the last. If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here until you reach yours.”

She didn’t answer, just smiled, turning to face the window.

In the reflection, her expression softened.

The train continued through the dark tunnel, the near-empty carriage filled with quiet and something else—something steady, something warm.

Not too close. Not too far.

David

Written in a snow-laden cabin, somewhere in Edmonton

February 5, 2025