PERCEPTION
It was the fall of 2012 in downtown Portland. I was waiting at the platform to catch the train to work. It alternated routes daily between a commuter and AirPort Express. This particular morning, I stood amongst a man nose deep in his book, a woman with a suitcase and a man that was standing at the edge of the train stop that was more lingering than waiting.
The woman with the suitcase was eccentric. She wore pink and red polka dot flats, wide brimmed glasses and an overly colorful sweater that stood out against the dreary October sky. When I initially saw her she was struggling to lift her suitcase onto the bench. She caught me watching her when she looked up and said, “I packed too much this morning, it’s so heavy.” She gave off a slight giggle of embarrassment when our attention was suddenly drawn to the lingering man who had been standing at the edge of the platform. The man had started screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs. “I’ll kill you!I’ll kill you!” He stood alone, throwing cans and trash at an invisible threat. Before long the police arrived. They approached the man having the outburst. “Sir we need you to come have a chat with us” one of the officers said while passively leading him to a bench. The man leaned to the left yelling at the invisible aggressor behind the police officer. The police officer turned around to see who the man was yelling at but seeing no one shook his head and turned back to the man.
I turned back to the train; peering down the long street through the center of the city. With no train in sight I leaned back in line with the platform. The woman with the suitcase was watching the police officer and the man. “Everyone’s having a mental health crisis these days, it’s really sad..” I nodded my head not knowing what to say, but she looked at me slightly odd like she didn’t understand why I shook my head. She looked down the train tracks “It’s cold today, I wasn’t expecting it to be so cold.” Turning back to her suitcase she reached for the zipper, pulling it around all 4 corners, flapping the suitcase open. The suitcase was empty. She reached in moving her hands around the suitcase as if she had a million things folded under the elastic clasp. I watched in a state of confusion. “There’s just so much stuff in here and I’m a horrible packer.” She pulled out her empty hands holding them wide as if examining the invisible sweater to make sure she had the right one. With the acknowledgment of the correct jacket being pulled from the suitcase she swung her arms around herself, placing the invisible jacket around her shoulders.“That’s better; well I got to catch the train, it was great meeting you.” She said smiling at me.
I smiled back.
She turned around lifting the suitcase off the bench as if it weighed 100lbs. She turned away from me, “Can you grab that” she motioned to the bench, talking into the air. There was no one there and nothing on the bench to grab. I watched her as she walked off the platform down the street and away from the train continuing the conversation to the person only she could see.
The man with his nose in the book suddenly looked up and turned to me “Now why would a woman travel with so many clothes is beyond me, she could barely fit it all back in. Look she left a few things on the bench..” He closed his book and stood up, the train was now pulling in. I was last in, stepping through the threshold of the train doors I turned around to see the bench and all the things the woman left behind. I couldn’t see what everyone else did, to me there was nothing there.