The Kid At The Train Station

   I have one of those faces - fairly non perturbing, blasé if you will, which makes me approachable it seems. At least that's why I think people from all walks of life walk up to me and start conversations with me as if I was a long-lost friend.

   Wednesday morning I'm at the train station minding my own business when a kid (by kid, I mean a young man probably around 22 or 23) approached me carrying a skateboard deck - just the deck, no trucks or wheels attached.

   He looked up at me and said straightaway, "I have come to believe that this skateboard is the root cause of all of my problems, would you like to have it? If you don't want it, I understand. But can I leave it here anyway. I cannot have it near me any longer."

   I looked at the skateboard deck being presented to me - it was ratty, torn up by long use, and quite frankly just about as useless as a skateboard deck could possibly be.

   Without taking the pro-offered deck in hand, I replied; "No, don't think I want that deck, accursed as you make it out to be. If it's the source of all your troubles, maybe you should put it in the trashcan over there." 

   I said that while indicating a trashcan less than 5 feet from where we were standing.

   The kid looked at me for a few seconds and then did not put the skateboard deck in the trashcan. Instead, he propped it up against the wall of the depot and turned back towards one of the rows of long benches, and took a seat next to a suitcase and a couple of small backpacks, which I assumed were his possessions.

   He sat there on the bench staring at the skateboard deck he had propped up against the wall for awhile, then he got up and walked back over to me.

   "You know I am not crazy or anything like that, right? I mean, I'm a normal person, but I've done a lot of thinking about all the bad things that have happened to me, and all of them have one thing in common, and it's that skateboard."

   With a deep sigh I looked back at the skateboard deck and then back to the kid, and I said, "If you believe that skateboard has been the bane of your existence, then by all means, rid yourself of it. But again, it might be best to rid the world of it, too."

   He stared at the skateboard deck propped up against the wall for a long minute, and I swear I saw tears welling up in his eyes. He walked over to the skateboard, picked it up and walked over to the trashcan and tossed the beat up deck in.

   Turning towards me, he said, "You're absolutely right, that is where it belongs. I feel such amazing relief. Thank you."

   Then he walked back to the bench and sat next to his stuff and remained there, staring off into space. He was still sitting there staring off into space when I boarded my train.