Acid Rain R.D Rhodes (small books to read .txt) 📖

and his neck twisted down towards his kids. He had fallen asleep making sure that they were alright, making sure that they were comfortable. That they were sleeping first. And after he was satisfied, he must have fallen asleep too. His face was turned slightly towards me and it was covered in a love and warmth so great that I was mesmerized by it.  The whole picture was serene and wonderful. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

All of a sudden I didn’t care about what happened to me. I didn’t care about anything. Humanity was beautiful! Humanity was great! Jesus, look at that! I thought. Joy surged into me and I felt truly glad to be alive. I wanted to live. I wanted to see that love every day. That was something. That was divine and heavenly. That scene had everything that life should be.

I stared from sleeping face to sleeping face. I was so proud of humanity. I squeezed my eyes again and just let it come, let my face burst forth into the smile that it wanted to.

A voice from a passenger behind said it was “twenny-past nine.” We didn’t have long. I sat back and watched as the houses got more frequent and their orange lights glowed in the dark. Harry woke up, peeked out over the chair in front of him and smiled at me.

“THIS TRAIN IS NOW APPROACHING…GLASGOW. LAST STOP…GLASGOW.”

My nerves shot back to life and I resumed sleep position, peering out at the dark stalwarts of buildings that rose up along the train tracks and hovered above my head. The train crossed the bridge over that familiar Clyde river, the bright lights of the city all around us. Then we were crawling under the station roof that covered us in darkness. Then the lights went on outside again, and we were drawing up by the platform.

I stood up. So did Harry. We joined the small queue of bodies at the door. The sleeping little girls stirred and rose, and their dad took the bags down from the compartment above their heads. The train ground to a halt and the doors opened.

This was it. This was the big one. Harry and I walked together. “If either of us get caught, say you got on at Dumfries, okay? I don’t know how much it will be, but that might be enough.” He handed me twenty-five pounds in notes. A mass of bodies stepped off from the carriages in front and we let them walk ahead. I couldn’t believe it. There was no-one on the gate! “This could be our lucky day.” I said.

The people were going through the gates at a good speed. I waited until a guy stepped in front of me and I squeezed in behind him as he collected his ticket from the slot. Harry emerged right behind me. Maybe it got easier with practice. I thanked my lucky stars as we headed through the station. It was hoaching, mostly with younger folk on their Friday night out. From all directions men marched around in their weekend costumes of jeans and shirts and blazers and girls went by done up to the nines and with breasts and legs on show. We headed on past the ticket office, down the incline and out onto the street.

“Jesus!” I said, stepping back into the doorway as the mad rush engulfed us from both sides.

“This is something else!” Harry replied. I saw the shock on his face- but then remembered he hadn’t been out to a city in eighteen months- as we watched the hordes of people stomping past us under the dim orange lights; grabbing at each other, screaming, some staggering along with pizzas and chips in their arms.

Harry and I kept close as we stepped to the kerb. The traffic squealed and roared, the buses hissed, and the drunks hollered over the top of them all. A spot cleared and we ran across the road to join the pavement on the other side and started to walk up the hill. All the streets were lit up in orange and green and red and blue signs, their neon glaring like great, dingy strip joints. We headed up the road, dodging and winding through surges of people. They lined the pavements above us and on the opposite side of the street, filing up and down like little ants. My personal space was being invaded. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t wait to get out.

“How old are you?” I asked Harry, to distract myself.

“What?!” He turned his face to me, a faint smile playing on his lips, till he realised I was anxious, “Twenty-one. And you?”

“Nineteen.” I said. “I thought you were few years older. You look younger though.”

His eyes stayed on me and his lips were moving, but a boy racer revved by and I didn’t hear him. “What?” I asked.

“What made you think I was older?” he repeated.

“I dunno. You just seem to have done a lot. Read a lot.”

“I guess so.” He folded his hands in his pockets.

We reached the top of the hill. Harry turned down Sauchiehall street.

“Where does your friend stay?” I asked.

“Possil Park.”

“Possil Park!” I had been once, when I was really little, but even being that young I could remember what it was like. “Well, if that’s where he stays. Are we not better heading up that way though?” I pointed up a road that I thought was a shortcut.

“Are you sure you can get up that way?”

I couldn’t remember for definite. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe best just sticking to the way I know. We could get a taxi, but I’d rather save the money. It’s only about an hour’s walk. Want a sandwich?”

I took the sandwich from the bag he offered. There was only one left. I