Julius stood on the platform, his shoulder length black hair rocking thanks to exuberance and wind, waiting for his train. It was supposed to be here twenty-two minutes ago. The monitor said he had another seventeen minutes.
Other travelers stood on the platform too. Each in their own world unaware of anyone else. Darkness grew making visible large white circles from lights above. Everyone avoided the light. It was as if light and person repelled each other as two positive ends of a magnet repel each other: there was no physical way one would come in contact with the other.
At home, Julius' auntie paced. She only let him leave because they perfectly planned everything. She was reluctant to let her thirteen-year-old travel to his audition alone. There were too many monsters. She knew. She still kept one in her drawer she picked up at eleven. It only came out now when she was stressed. She ran to her room, pulled it out, and lit up. "Where is he?" She worried.
Seventeen minutes became thirty-four. Darkness became black. Repulsion became stronger. Exuberance became anxiety.
Julius didn't notice time pass or darkness become black. He was remembering his audition, the spot light, his rendition of "China Girl" that no one else got. The director asked, "Why 'China Girl'?" "My auntie likes it," he replied. He liked it too, but thirteen-year-olds aren't supposed to like old people music.
Ash fell into the crowded ash tray. Her monster unleashed, Julius' auntie hacked violently. Time ticked on her digital clock next to her bed. "Forty-six minutes," she said. "Forty-six minutes." Counting continued. Another drag drawn.
More travelers appeared on the platform. It was as if being in darkness multiplied them. They were amoeba splitting, creating new beings. They were viruses.
Julius had now been waiting over an hour. Still no train. Still stuck. He knew he should call his auntie, but that meant finding a phone. He didn't want to weave between people looking for a phone booth. He didn't want to ask for help. He was grown and could take care of himself. His auntie only need wait.
A circle of light on the far edge of the platform sparkled. Julius noticed it. He saw it dance and flutter. He wanted to dance as it danced. He wanted to be in the spot light just as he'd been in the spot light on stage. An itch scratched now pleaded for more scratching. He started humming "China Girl". The light responded rhythmically swaying its beat. Somewhere above the platform an accordion echoed it antiphon. Julius quieted straining to hear poetry and verse.
Alone among many
Light repels dark
Step into the spot light
Let me make my mark
There on the platform
Trapped in time
You sway and hum
I'm waiting for your rhyme
Dance with me gingerlyHer eyes blinked close. There was a lullaby somewhere in a dream. It was one of those childhood lullabies that sound so sweet by lyrically menace. She didn't want it. She didn't want to be lulled to sleep. She was waiting for Julius. Her monster burnt her finger, and she snapped awake. The digital clock read 11:49. It was too late. He should be home. She contemplated driving to the train station, but her monster roared. She lit another and began counting again.
Step into my spot light
It's time dear, Julius
Do not fear the night
The travelers were numerous. They crowded the blackness. They pushed its expanse threatening to burst light. They were agitated, angry, ablaze.
The accordion kept singing its nighttime song. Julius searched for its origins not with eyes but with hear and ears. Eyelids closed he felt. Its high timbre shook shoulders. The click of keys tickled toes. Th back and forth fanning propelled his pelvis. Julius moved towards the dancing circle at the edge of the platform.
The clock read 11:59. Julius' auntie, too aware of midnight hauntings, cried. She wanted him home. She wanted safety and protection. She wanted innocence and naiveté.
Julius stood at the edge of light. The music sprung from the lightbulb above. He knew that without sight. He knew everything as only children know everything. He lifted his foot steady for his next step.
The travelers buzzed. The monitor read "Arriving". A low distant grumble reverberated down the platform. Julius' auntie fell into a dark sleep. Together, it pushed little Julius. He stumbled and stepped into the light.
The accordion stopped. Travelers boarded. An ember fell from auntie's monster igniting bed and bedroom.
Julius held. It was his spot light. It was his verse. It was his.
And he had no clue what to do next.
