The negative space of the reflection in the subway car's window dipped into my neck, rounding off over my shoulder and ending at the seat back. I sat, eyes vacant, braid tossed over my shoulder, my head hanging to the side so far my muscles were clearly outlined in the reflection of the window across from me. The train screeched into a station and the doors opened, crowds shifting to make space for newcomers, shifting to absorb the spaces left behind by those who exited. My head dropped down to my chest and I awoke, jerking it back up to stare impassively at the leather bag of the girl standing in the aisle in front of me. My eyes began to close again, the weight of a difficult nights' sleep added to the motion of the subway car impossible for me to fight against. The subway shifted quickly, and my face fell directly into the thigh of the girl with the leather bag. I apologized, pulling myself together and settling my own bag on my lap to be ready for the hiss of opening doors and the rush of escaping cooled air.
Lurching to my feet I sidestepped the laundry bag of the woman next to me, and lost my balance again in the swaying subway car, tripping over a man's well-loved boots. He grabbed my sleeve, holding it just long enough for me to catch my footing. I turned to smile at him, embarrassed, registering only briefly his unshaven cheeks and charming wink. Another time, I thought to myself, nodding and pushing through the bodies by the door and out into suffocating heat of the subway station.
I hurried out to the street, late again for my job as a nanny. The doorman nodded to me as I rushed through the marble foyer and stuck my arm into the elevator to stop the doors from closing. The couple inside chuckled, and I rearranged hair and clothes as we rode the elevator up to the 11th floor, trying to make my haste in clothing choice look purposeful. A deep breath, and I rang the doorbell, ready to care and tend and clean. Again.
****
That evening I pushed the heavy door shut behind me in my apartment, and set to making myself a dinner. Plain chicken cutlet with garlic, reheated pasta from the other night, and raw carrots and red pepper slices. I ate in front of the TV, my housemates barely greeting me as they came in from their jobs. The phone rang before I went to bed. Eliana was on the other end to tell me about a new boyfriend. I congratulated her lovingly, and that night I dreamt her new boyfriend was my 8th grade science teacher. We all went on a picnic together.
****
I jerked awake on the subway, looking around frantically to be sure I hadn't missed my stop. Every morning I did the same, nodding off to the air rushing around the subway car that moved deep below the city's surface. We squealed into a station and I relaxed--three more before my stop. The tug of sleep was at the corners of my eyes again when I noticed familiar boots to my left. I glanced over and saw the man who had caught my fall the other day. I laughed to my self--how rare to see a stranger twice on the same train, I thought, closing my eyes again.
****
Stepping out of the elevator that morning I was greeted by Annie, my 3-year-old charge and a puppy.
"Annie!" I cried, "Who's that?"
She grinned delightedly, shouting, "Harry! My doggie!" The baby husky jumped up on me, yapping excitedly, and biting at my pant legs.
"Oh how much fun, Annie! Did Mommy bring Harry home for you when she got back from her trip?" Annie nodded and tackled Harry, who didn't seem to mind in the slightest, even as Annie pulled his hair and kicked him accidentally in her rapture. I lifted her up quickly, talking to her about the importance of kindness to others, even animals, and how one aught to treat pets. We stepped into the kitchen and I set up her for breakfast before going to dress Lyall, the 5-year-old, and wake Ellen, the 8-year-old. Their parents were always gone by the time I arrived, trusting the children to be safe for the half hour alone each morning. A note had been left for me about proper care for the new dog, and I set to tidying, as I did each morning while the children ate breakfast, making their beds and cleaning up their toys. In my job description I was only supposed to be cleaning up for them, but I ended up doing dishes and cleaning clothing and newspapers that belonged to their parents every morning anyway.
On this day I took them to a science museum, walking them through with all the other children and their nannies. I'd been to the museum many times before, but it continued to delight the children, and an occupied child is a wonderful thing, so I didn't complain in the slightest. That afternoon we returned to the house to pick up the puppy for a walk and I felt my old exhaustion come back again. I brought them to a place in the park I knew I could watch them from a bench, and they played for hours while I fought the lulling sounds of wind around me, children laughing, and the close rumble of traffic. Ellen came running up, her breath rasping, and pulled on my hand.
"Come on Lana! Look what Lyall taught Harry to do! Come look!"
****
That night when I got home there was a message from my mother, and from Tom, my ex-fiance. I listened to each, their mechanized voices bouncing off the high ceilings and bare walls of my room, leaving the air stiller than before. Lying down on my bed I could feel my spine decompressing, the spaces on either side expanding almost painfully. I pulled off my clothing and lay naked atop my covers, the heat of the day still lingering, motionless. Suddenly there was a ringing, brilliant in the stillness, and I rolled over to find that it was my alarm, only then registering the light in the windows. How exhausting for it to be morning already.
