She spoke a little louder. Maybe he can’t hear me, she thought.
“Hello?” she practically shouted at him. Still no response.
“Maybe I should kick somebody. There has to be some life in this place.”
She spotted a lady hanging onto two small children who were struggling to get free. A tangle of suitcases lay at their feet, one with a sand shovel protruding. A yellow ball squeezed itself out and bounced merrily along the platform. The smallest boy shrieked in delight and almost succeeded in escaping his mother’s tight grip.
“Hello, I’m trying to get to Eglington,” she said directly to the woman’s face. “Have you any idea when the train will arrive?”
The large fat boy stuck his tongue out at her.
The woman slapped him and walked briskly away, kicking the suitcases along as she went.
Stephanie heard it. The long mournful sound of a train whistle. It was music to her ears.
“Thank you!” she laughed and quickly gathered her backpack and stood as close to the track as she could get.
The whistle got louder and louder and then she could see the light along the track. The train was almost upon her. Stephanie stepped back a little and waited.
But the train did not stop. It roared past, whipping up the wind in little whirls of dirt and garbage on the platform. Stephanie gasped. What was going on?