INTERVIEWS
"Leave him be Cheri," Lynn said, rummaging about frantically in her pocket book.

"No, I´m just saying hello. What the hell harm could that do?" Cheri snapped back. Her voice was too loud for the enclosed space of the subway car.

A few passengers looked up from paperback novels and out from behind newspapers. Cheri broke a stick of gum between her tobacco-stained fingertips, and popped the two pieces into her mouth. She stared back pointedly at the upturned faces, and chewing hard on the gum, she worked her stare up and down the subway car until all the eyes had looked away. Her stare then turned back to the two men who sat a few seats down the car from her: one white, one black, both in their late twenties, both in dirty tee-shirts and jeans, and each with a large plastic bag of empty cans and bottles wedged between their legs.

"Hey, Andy," Cheri said again, in her gravelly voice. "Andy Fox from Withersworth Towers, is that you, you old fart?"

"Leave the guy alone," Lynn said. "Just leave him alone."

The muscles in Lynn´s right arm flexed as she tightened her hand inside her pocketbook. She looked up at the scruffy white man. "It ain´t no one we know, ok."

"Sure it is, it´s Andy; I´d know that goddamned jaw of his anywhere," Cheri answered her back, wagging her head from side to side.

A young girl in dark brown robes and a Muslim veil–sitting next to her mother, who was also in dark brown robes and a veil–looked up from her picture book straight into Cheri´s eyes.

"Something the matter, heh?" Cheri asked, staring down at the little girl. She gave a few rapid chews of her gum. "Can´t a girl just say hello to an old friend of hers, heh? An old boyfriend actually." Her mane of bleached blond hair wagged from side to side as she spoke.

The girl´s mother took her head in her hand, and turned it back down to the book. She patted the little girl gently on the shoulder.

Cheri turned her stare back to the two men. "Hey Andy-boy, you too good to talk to the Jones girls now?" Cheri said, with a loud, forced laugh. In doing so she caught the black man´s attention. He looked up at her for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah him, your boyfriend," she said, laughing again. "Yeah, give your boyfriend, old Andy-boy an elbow for me."

"Cut that shit out," Lynn said. "Just leave them guys alone. We don´t know them, ok."

The black man bumped his knee against Andy, and then nodded up towards Cheri.

"What the fuck Fred?" Andy asked, turning and looking blearily at the black man.

Fred nodded his head toward Cheri again. Andy turned slowly, leaning his head back until it bumped against the window. He squinted his eyes at Cheri. "CH-E-RI," he slurred out her name.

She laughed loudly back at him. His red and puffed-up face slowly formed into a grin for her.

"Ch-eri," he said, more clearly this time. "Cheri fucking Jones. You sweet thing." He let out a little whoop and slapped his knee. "Come and give your Andy a squeeze–he´s been having a bad day, you know."

"Are you sure it´s just today that´s been bad," she laughed, a coarse laugh.

"You start something with him, and you´re on your own," Lynn said. "'Cause I ain´t going through this again."

"Hi Lynn," Andy said, turning his gaze away from the two women, and into the space in front of him. He paused, his head bobbed a little, and then he continued, "and how the hell are you too?"

Lynn tightened her face and looked away.

The train pulled into a station, and slid to a stop. The Muslim woman bustled her daughter hurriedly off the train and onto the platform. A group of four elderly tourists, all in khaki shorts and pastel golf-shirts stepped onto the car, smiling at everyone around them. They stood at the pole in front of Andy, and formed a semicircle around a frail white-haired man who started to unfold a map.

"So where you living now Andy, Cal-if-ornia?" Cheri asked, with a snort.

The tourists glanced up, and then, still smiling, turned back down to their map.

"No, no, no, fuck no. I come back, no, no more Cali, a few months, years back. No more Cali," Andy answered wagging his head back and forth. "I´m just getting set up back again. But it´s sucks now. In Cali I had everything." He threw both his hands wildly up in the air, exciting some attention from the tourists huddled around their map. "An apartment, every-fucking-thing, my motorcycle, everything. Hey," his voice raised, "you know here, you can´t get shit for shit–know what I mean."

"Oh, oh, that´s too bad," Cheri said. She chewed on her gum for a moment and then continued. "So where´s your little cutie now, Connie or Flonnie or whatever the hell her name was?"

"Cut it out Cheri," Lynn spoke up sharply. Some passengers looked up at her. One of the tourists, a heavy-set, matronly type, turned around, and stared at Lynn and then at Cheri with pursed-lip concern.

"Or was it even a chick at all?"

"Cheri!" Lynn snapped.

The rest of the tourists looked up in alarm at Lynn.

"We split," Andy answered, obliviously. "Split the fuck up." He gave a subdued little whoop. "Split, split, splitsville." He wheezed out a long breath. "I don´t know where that crazy bitch is now. She left, one day. I don´t know, in the middle of the night she took off–gone wallet, gone woman, gone bike...no, no, not then, I don´t think her, maybe that was somebody else, some other fucking place. Jesus Christ Cheri, Jesus that was way the fuck back, way, way back, in Vegas or some-fucking-place, me and you must´ve been...."

"No we wasn´t," Cheri shot out the words. "No we wasn´t."

Andy sat back in his seat, and looked up at Cheri, who turned away from his unfocused gaze, but immediately turned back.

"Come and give your old Andy a hug."

He held his arms up; the hands were black with dirt and grime that extended up past his wrist to the pink flesh of his forearms. The tourists, trying to move away from the outstretched arms, tightened their little herd around the map.

Cheri forced out a dry laugh. "Not those arms pal, not them, they ain´t going hugging Cheri Jones and that´s for fucking damn sure. Take a look at them Andy-boy, they´re as black as your boyfriend´s ass."

"Cheri!" Lynn erupted. She gritted her teeth together, and gave her sister a jab on the left shoulder. "You been warned enough about that before."

Every head in the car turned and looked up in Lynn´s direction. The matronly tourist spun around and stared at Lynn and Cheri, frowning and pursing her lips tightly together.

"That´s fucking nice," Andy said into the false silence created by Lynn´s outburst. "That´s real nice, real nice, real fucking nice." He breathed out loudly. "Now I remember. It makes sense now, yeah, now I remember how you´re such a fucking bitch. How could I forget that? Such a fucking sun-shines-out-my-ass-bitch. That´s it. That´s exactly it, it´s all Andy´s fault." He held one finger up in the air. "It´s all Andy´s goddamned fault, everything."

The car was silent after Andy spoke. Some passengers glanced up, but immediately looked away. Only the matronly tourist kept watching them. The rest of the tourists stared down at their map.

Then, Andy spoke again. "Nice city we got here, heh?" he said, evenly, leaning forward and tapping the frail, white-haired tourist on the back. "Very history-oric."

The tourist gave a little leap at the touch of Andy´s finger, and immediately pushed his way to the other side of his group. Andy threw his hands wildly up in the air again, and shook his head. The tourists tightened their group together.

"Fucking bitch," he growled, looking up at Cheri.

"Oh, so that´s your new thing Andy, is it, heh?" Cheri said. She paused for a moment, chewing her gum rapidly, staring straight at Andy. "Old guys, heh?" She said it calmly, so calmly that everyone nearby looked up.

"Shut up," Lynn said.

"Yeah bitch," Andy nodded his head up at Cheri. "Listen to your tight-assed sister, and shut the fuck up."

"Old guys, young guys, young girls; you´re just all over the zoo ain´t you?"

"Lynn," Andy said forcefully into the air in front of his face. "You tell your cunt of a little sister to shut her fucking mouth, before I do it–permanent."

"I warned you not to start anything, now shut the fuck up," Lynn drilled the words out rapidly, her face pushed right up into Cheri´s. "All right, shut up, or there´ll be no more train rides with you."

Lynn immediately turned herself around to face Andy. She stepped forward and placed her body fully in front of Cheri. She kept her right hand jammed down into her pocket book, the muscles in her right arm were taut. Cheri made as if to pass Lynn, but instead just leaned around her.

"Loser," Cheri said.

Books and newspapers were immediately raised to passengers´ faces. The passenger sitting next to Andy stood up from her seat, and walked to the other end of the car.

"Who the fuck are you to talk?" Andy barked out in reply, still looking straight ahead. "Heh, just who the fuck are you to talk?" The rising energy level in Andy´s voice sent his question booming around the car.

"I´m the mother of what would´ve been your daughter, that´s who!" Cheri screamed back at him.

The car flooded with light as the train emerged out of the ground to cross over the river. The water sparkled in the sun. The grass on either side of the river was lush and green.

"Get over it, all right," Andy said, dourly. "Just get the fuck over that."

The passengers stared out the windows at the water, at the grass, and up at the brilliant white clouds that set off the sky´s blueness. For twenty seconds the train was bathed in daylight, before it plunged back underground.

"Why the fuck did you bring that up?" he continued. "What fucking use is that, heh?" He moved his head violently from side to side. "No use, that´s what, no fucking use at all. I ain´t feeling sorry for you. I feel sorry for me, that´s the onliest one I feel sorry for in this whole fucking world. Fucking bitching on me about that, heh, about that. Fuck you."

"Leave her alone Andy," Lynn said. "We´re getting off at the next stop, so just leave her alone."

"No we ain´t, no. Not just 'cause this asshole´s here."

"Shut up," Lynn spun around and aimed a finger directly into Cheri´s face. "Just shut up, hear me?"

"Now you got me fucking going, why the fuck do cunts have to do that."

"Hey man take it easy, come on, take it easy," Fred said. "We´ll be at the Bottle-Barn in a few minutes, then we can get us something to cool down."

"Yeah, yeah, cool, cool. I´m cool, I´m cool as a fool–that fucking dumb cunt, can you believe that, can you believe she pulled that shit?"

"Come on man, chill, we´ll be there in five minutes, five minutes that´s all," he held his hand up, with the fingers spread apart, in front of Andy´s face. "Five minutes, just hold on, no sense in starting a whole bunch of troubles now over nothing."

"Nothing, nothing?" Andy turned fully in his seat to look at him. "You´re right Fred: she is nothing, a fucking nothing no good bitch-of-a-bitch cunt, that´s all she is. But now she got me going Fred, now I´m going, now I´m fucking going."

He brought his hand down hard on his knee.

The slap sent a shudder through the group of tourists.

"Nothing," Cheri retorted, spitting her gum over Lynn´s shoulder.

"Shut up Cheri," Lynn turned around again, and yelled in her face. "Please just shut up."

"Nothing. Well if I´m a nothing bitch, then–"

"I said shut up Cheri."

"...you´re a nothing cock-sucking son-of-bitch."

"Shut–" Lynn tried to grab Cheri´s mouth with her free hand, but Cheri fended Lynn´s one hand off with both of hers.

"Go on suck his dick. Suck your nigger´s dick just like you sucked that fag at the beach party, and the mailman guy too–some fucking boyfriend you–"

Andy struggled up out of his seat. The tourists broke ahead of him, clutching their fanny packs, the frail, white-haired man moaning in alarm, as they pushed past the Jones sisters. By the time Andy started his charge, and despite having the tourists push up against her, Lynn had withdrawn a canister of pepper spray from her pocketbook. Andy saw the pepper spray, raised his hands to shield his eyes, and ran into the back of the matronly tourist, hitting her hard with his shoulder. She collapsed to the floor. Andy charged on, stepping on the tourist´s outstretched body, and lunged head first at Lynn, knocking her backwards into Cheri. The three of them landed in a pile on the floor. Cheri screamed, a scream so loud and full of terror that it drowned out all the other noise in the carriage. As soon as the pile hit the floor, Andy´s arms started to flail, landing heavy blows to Lynn´s body.

The passengers near the melee fled to either end of the car. The matronly tourist scrambled to her feet, and after limping past Andy´s flailing arms, was received sobbing into the arms of her fellow travelers.

Lynn sprayed the pepper spray, the canister´s hissing sound drowned out by Cheri´s scream. Then Andy screamed–his hands snapping back to his eyes, like a spider recoiling at the touch of a human finger. He rolled from side to side across Lynn´s legs. She pulled one leg free, then kicked at him, and sprayed again in the direction of his face. She yanked the other leg free. When she got herself up, she kicked Cheri hard on the buttocks, and then dragged her to her feet, and down the car away from Andy and the pepper spray vapors.

A panic had broken out amongst the other passengers when the pepper spray started to diffuse around the car. They crushed in on top of one another at either end of the car, crowding away from the cloud of vapor, pulling their shirts up over their noses, trying to keep their eyes closed, but too frightened to. The sounds of violent coughing, retching and crying were background noise as both Cheri and Andy still screamed; the security call-box at the end of the car squawked as someone tried to get the Transit Police.

Fred moved to the other end of the car, away from Lynn and Cheri, and stooped down on all fours. He kept the two bags of cans tucked between himself and the seats, and then lay face down on the floor with his shirt pulled up over his head.

The train began to slow down. Lynn moved Cheri, firmly gripped by the arm and positioned the two of them in front of the door, despite the efforts of other passengers to get in front of them. They both turned their heads back to look at Andy, who still lay on the floor, his scream trailing off to a plaintiff groan.

Cheri was sobbing loudly now.

There was a hum as the doors tried to open. Then silence.

"Andy´s hurt," Cheri said.

"Shut up," Lynn answered. "You done enough talking for today."

"No he´s hurt bad. Look Lynn, he´s still down there, he´s hurt. That shit you sprayed is in his eyes. They´re hurt bad."

"Shut the fuck up." Lynn jostled Cheri up against the closed doors.

The humming sound at the doors started again.

"No stop it, he´s in pain Lynn, big-time pain, look at him."

"Sure, he´s in pain, you´re in pain too. Everyone on this goddamned ride is in pain. Life´s a fucking pain–now shut up."

The doors rattled opened. The other passengers held back to let the Jones sisters get off first.

Cheri hesitated, turning to look back at Andy on the floor. Tears streaked down her cheek.

"But Lynn–" she started to say.

"Go on," Lynn growled through gritted teeth.

She squared her shoulder in the middle of Cheri´s back, and pushed her out onto the platform. "Get off the train."









Joseph O'Farrell moved from Ireland to Boston in 1986. He has been writing for ten years and has earned an ALM in English Literature and Creative Writing from Harvard Extension. He lives in Brookline, MA with his wife and two young children. He is currently working on a novel about an IRA fugitive in Boston.
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