"The Seat by the Window", Anna Adima (Germany) anna_adima@yahoo.de concours-2008-nouvelle-Anna-Adima-The-Seat-by-the-Window

The Seat by the Window

The train screeched to a halt and a startled Jennifer, who was standing too close to the platform, jumped back, nearly falling over in surprise. Instead, a good-looking man of about of about forty caught her. This did not improve her mood, which was already bad enough after the fight that morning with her sister.
“I’m sorry, sir, did I hurt you?” stammered Jennifer embarrassedly, angry, that something like that should happen to her. The man merely smiled sadly and said he did not mind it all, it was not every day he managed to save a pretty young girl from falling. It was probably the last time he ever would. The “pretty young girl” coloured an even darker shade of red and before she even had time to thank the man he was gone.
“Ooh, Jenny, a man over forty is attracted to you! Now, tell me, what am I to think of that?” The sound of Elizabeth’s voice reminded Jennifer why she was so angry. Scowling, she rounded on her sister.
“He is not attracted to me! He was merely stopping me from falling over…and don’t call me Jenny! It’s Jennifer!”
“Whatever, Jenny,” said Elizabeth, still sniggering at the fact that a man old enough to be their father thought Jennifer was pretty. “I pity his taste anyway.” Ignoring her sister’s last remark Jennifer got on the train after her father, with her sister following her.
The train was quite full and the only compartment they could find already had someone sitting in it – Jennifer’s “saviour”. Before Elizabeth, who already had a silly grin plastered on her face, could say anything, Jennifer slid open the door, nodded at the man and grabbed the other seat by the window opposite her “knight in shining armour”. That wiped the smile off Elizabeth’s face! Jennifer could not help but smirk as she saw her sister open her mouth to protest.
“But, Jenny, it’s my turn to sit by the window! You know it is!” objected Elizabeth loudly. Grinning, Jennifer replied, “First of all, it’s Jennifer, and second of all, that’s just tough luck! The early bird gets the worm.”
“But…”
“Girls, not here, please!” The girls’ father, George, butted in. “Lizzy, take a seat somewhere else, and Jennifer, I hope you know that for the next two train rides your sister will sit by the window. Now please act your age, and don’t fight” Glowering, Elizabeth took a seat in the furthest corner away from her sister and sat there staring moodily at the ground. Jennifer, whose mood still had not really improved, was now just mortified by the previous scene. What must the man sitting opposite her think! He probably thought her very childish, having a fight with her sister just because of a seat by the window! Oh, why did he have to be sitting in this compartment? Glancing at him, Jennifer was surprised to see that he had ignored the scene completely. He was simply staring out of the window fiddling with something in his pocket.
Everyone was silent and the rattling of the train seemed even louder. George did not like it when his daughters fought. But he disliked it even more when they refused to speak to each other. When they got along well, which did not happen very often, they could have the most interesting conversations, which George was only too happy to join in. Hoping that he could start one of them, George began chatting away, assuming they would say something.
“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? Lizzy, how hot did you say it would be?”
“26 Degrees,” replied Elizabeth shortly, without looking up from the floor. Well, that didn’t work, thought George.
“Anyone up for a game of Scrabble? I bought it with me!” said George brightly. Both his daughters grunted something in reply, which George took for a no.
“Fine, shall we play ‘I Spy’, then?”
“Dad!” snapped Jennifer. “Just leave us alone, all right? We’re too old for games like I spy!” Sighing, George gave up and silence filled the compartment once more. Poor Dad, thought Elizabeth. He tries so hard. I almost feel sorry for him. But after he took Jennifer’s side, I can not feel complete sympathy for him. And it’s all Jennifer’s fault! She’s so horribly selfish and bossy! Thinks she’s so special because she’s the best in her class and because she wants to become a Cambridge-educated lawyer! Gosh, sometimes I really hate her!
After what seemed like hours, finally someone said something.
“I’m just going for a short walk. My legs feel really stiff!” said the man who had not spoken the whole train ride. Jennifer and her father nodded and he went outside. But instead of walking out of her sight, as Jennifer, who was observing him, expected him to, he started pacing up and down, nervously, it seemed to her. Strange, she thought, and continued watching him. He stopped eventually and turned his back to their compartment. If Jennifer had been watching him from the opposite side of the train, she would have seen that the man’s eyes were shut tight. But all she could see was that one hand was taking something out of his pocket and his other arm was kept tight by his side. He looks as though he were waiting for the worst to come, thought Jennifer amusedly. In the years to come she would not be able remember those words without blushing. Smiling, she dropped her gaze and looked out of the window at the green, hilly, English countryside.
A loud, deafening explosion interrupted her thoughts. Screams were heard everywhere and where the man had stood was now a fire, which was growing bigger by the second.
“Oh my God!” screamed Jennifer. Somehow, flames had gotten into their compartment were licking the seats. Plastic started melting and a hot trickle dripped onto her hand. Cursing, she tried to remove it, but the plastic had already hardened on her hand.
A loud cry caused her to look up. What she saw made her forget the stinging pain in her hand and her streaming eyes due to the smoke. Her father was hopping around as if in pain, a hand pressed to his eye.
“Dad!” shouted Jennifer. “Dad, what’s the matter?!” George did not seem to have heard her. The pain seemed to have taken over his mind; he was talking gibberish and babbling incoherently. Several times did Jennifer call out his name, but never did George reply. He kept on screaming in pain until he collapsed onto the floor. His daughter bent down to see why he had been in such agony. Jennifer removed George’s hand from his eye and immediately wished she hadn’t. What she saw was so awful, that she felt bile rise up her throat. That was why her father had been in such pain! Sticking out of George’s eye was a piece of the compartment door glass that had burst when the pressure of the flames had become too high. The piece was as big as a thumb nail! Blood was streaming out of George’s eyeball, or had been when he was still conscious, and the whole right side of his face was covered with blood, including the hand that had been clutching his eye. He looked so tormented, that Jennifer felt a new feeling rising up in her: guilt. Guilt, that she had not been able to help him while she still could and guilt that she had been so cross with him shortly before. She tried helping her father gain consciousness, which was quite difficult, as the flames were already eating away at her father’s hand. But before Jennifer could even feel for a pulse, more shouts reached her ears. She looked up and her eyes widened in horror. The seats had caught fire and the floor was a lake of melted plastic. Her eyes were streaming so badly that it was hard to see where the cries for help had come from.
“Jennifer! Jennifer, help!” And then she saw it. Standing on the seat where she had sat shortly before was Elizabeth calling out Jennifer’s name, pleading for help. Her normally thick mass of chestnut hair had turned a bright flaming red. At least, that is what Jennifer saw through her streaming eyes. Jennifer rubbed them and looked at Elizabeth again. Her sister’s hair had caught fire and the flames were working their way down to her scalp!
“I’m coming Lizzy! Stay calm!” Pressing herself against the window, Jennifer reached out a hand for Elizabeth trying not to burn herself in the ever-growing fire. She turned her head away from it; the smoke was making it impossible for her to see. Encouraging her sister who was trying to grab hold of her hand, Jennifer did notice her jeans catch fire, did not feel the flames reaching the window she was leaning against and was not aware of the fact that the window, just like the compartment door, burst because the pressure of the flames was too high. She only felt herself letting go of Elizabeth’s hand, that had managed to make its way to her hers, and falling down, falling until she landed on her back. She dimly perceived the train rushing past her, but then a blinding pain shot through her body and Jennifer lost consciousness.



The graveyard gate screeched as Jennifer opened it. Wondering when it would finally be oiled, she made her way to the graves of George and Elizabeth Rider. Dropping a bunch of tulips in front of their stones, she greeted her father and sister brightly.
“It’s a beautiful day,” she told them. “26 Degrees!” Not being able to bend, she prodded the tulips into a better position with her foot. “I’ve just been to the doctor.” Her voice changed and she sounded bitter. “He said that it would take a long time until my back is fully healed. But I don’t believe him. I know I am to be a cripple for the rest of my life.” A lump rose in her throat and tears welled in Jennifer’s eyes. “And I deserve it too!” she wept. “I deserve to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair! Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” By now tears were streaming down Jennifer’s face and there was nothing she could do to prevent them. “I’m really, really sorry! I wish I was with you now, wherever you two are! Dad, I shouldn’t have told you to leave me alone! I’d give anything to play a game of ‘I Spy’ with you now and I’m really sorry I couldn’t help you when you were in so much pain! You’re screams haunt me in my nightmares and I hope that you can hear me and be able to forgive me.” She stopped to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. But even more tears ran down her face when she thought of her sister.
“Lizzy,” sobbed Jennifer. “I will never be able to find an excuse for what I did! It really tortures me to know that it is my fault you aren’t here. I can really understand it if you shall never forgive me. I’m sorry for all the mean things I said to you; I never really meant them and I hope you know that I always have and always will love you, however much I used to insist on the opposite.” Not being able to talk anymore, Jennifer tried to calm down and gain control of her feelings. When she had composed herself, she dried her eyes and said, “I suppose I had better get going. Mum doesn’t like it when I’m out for too long. The house seems so empty without you two!” She stopped as she could feel tears filling her eyes again. It was just so hard to believe that she would never hear her father’s cheerful voice call hello when coming home, that she would never be able to challenge him to a game of Scrabble again and that he would never be there again. She wanted to have a fight with Elizabeth again, just so she could know Lizzy really was there, not lying dead, her scalp burnt, in melted plastic. Jennifer sighed and knew that the only things left of George and Elizabeth were photographs and a lifetime of memories.
“Goodbye,” she whispered and wheeled herself past the other graves, occasionally nodding at someone who was also putting flowers on a one. She nodded at the vicar’s wife, who had shortly lost her baby, at old Mrs Gallagher, who had been a widow for longer than Jennifer could remember, at a mother with two young children and the grave-digger, who, she felt, had been watching all the time she had been talking to her father and sister.
“Afternoon,” she said politely.
“Afternoon,” the grave-digger replied, never dropping his gaze from her. She smiled at him and went on. As she pushed herself down the nearly empty road, enjoying the afternoon sun, she wondered, as she had so often after the suicide attack on the train and always would, what would have happened, if she had not taken the seat by the window and had let Elizabeth sit there instead.

"The Seat by the Window", Anna Adima (Germany) anna_adima@yahoo.de