My Tram Ride

I had to take the tram today— It was full, almost. The only seat was beside this cute little thing. She had on a jersey six sizes too large, at least. Then I saw why, as the little guy underneath kept squirming and stretching. I really didn’t notice that small silent but deadly which I obviously passed, but she did. Oh my God!! I think she more looked it than said it. It had hardly cleared her lips when she closed her eyes, clamped her teeth and grimaced. Once again composed, almost. Oh please, go. Just go somewhere else and sit. Lady, there is no where else.--- I don’t care, just M-O-V-E, said between clinched teeth. You have a problem. No, lady, you have a problem. What I have is— gas. Well, take your gas up on top. I can hardly breathe and my baby just really bit me hard, please, just go to the back, go to the top, I don’t care-- just go. Lady, in case you haven’t looked lately I can reach out and get hand fulls of snow from the top of this tram. It is colder out side than in your bedroom. It’s cold. The silent but deadly had suddenly wafted back to the front of the bus as it made the previous stop. It was on me now and it was bad. There were people every where with bleary eyes, fanning their noses and moving their heads from side to side, seeking any small relief. I envied the wee one still inside the jersey, nestled up against those two perpetual food banks, keeping him warm, fed and cozy. That was a cool idea and I had never seen it before. Ok, lady, you win. I’ll get off at the next stop. But something just wasn’t right. That was not a “silent but deadly” I smelled. I mean, if there is one thing I know, it’s my own gas and that was not mine. She must have read my thoughts because she turned red. Pulling the neck band up to her forehead, I could see her ears turning purple, as the bus slowed for the next stop. Without saying a word she put her arms straight out interlacing her fingers, checking those nails. She moved her hands underneath junior for support, moved slowly to the door and got off. Ironically the smell went away. © 18 Nov 2010 For Desiree's Epiphanies contest