The Plans I Have: Prologue

Prologue

Note: This may change once I receive feedback from the review group re: when is best to introduce this element of the story.  

"Daddy, how come we're taking this train?  This isn’t the way home," Subria asked, totally unfamiliar with the train station.

"Don’t worry, Subria," Steven said without making eye contact with her.  "The train is coming.  Just hold on."

A few minutes later, Subria saw the D train pull into the station, and at first it put her at ease, because this was finally something that she recognized.  This was the train that her family always took to out to Coney Island beach in the summer. Under normal circumstances, Subria would have enjoyed the train ride.  She would usually sit on her knees with her candy-sticky fingers pressed against the windows, enjoying the smell of the beach that came in through the train doors the closer they got to Coney Island.  It was so exciting to look out at the roller coasters and the water, and to see all the people lined up in front of Nathan’s.  But then she remembered that it was not summertime.  It was a cold December evening, and she felt nervous all over again.  Subria glanced over at her father repeatedly looking for a sign that everything was okay, but he wouldn’t look at her.  

As they got closer to Coney Island, cold gusts of wind blew into the train car at each stop.  Just as her feet were starting to warm up, they arrived at the Coney Island – Stillwell Avenue train station.  It was the last stop.  Instead of heading to the Astroland Amusement Park when they got off the train, they went in the other direction toward the housing projects.  

"Daddy, where are we going?" Subria pleaded.

"I just have to stop by and pick something up from my friend.  I need you to stay out here and wait for me."

"But Dad . . ."

"I won't be long."

Before Subria could protest any further, her father disappeared into the dark courtyard of a set of buildings.  Subria closed her eyes, and dug her hands deep into her pockets.  By this time, it was snowing steadily, and she could barely feel her toes.  

The year before, a kid in her second grade class was bullying Subria.  One day after school, the boy punched her, and since she didn't know how to fight, she just ran home in tears.  Subria told her father what had happened as soon as he got home from work.  The look of anger on his face both scared and comforted her.  Steven told her that he would meet her after school the next day, and true to his word, he was standing right outside the building at dismissal time.  He asked her to show him who this boy was, and when she pointed him out, Steven scared the boy so badly that he never bothered Subria again.  She hadn't felt that safe again in a long time.  Where was her knight in shining armor now?  Subria would've given anything for a pair of ruby slippers.  

"Are you lost?" a hooded man asked, approaching Subria.  She couldn't make out his face, and she froze.  

"I’m not supposed talk to strangers," Subria said, backing away.

"It’s okay.  My name is Phillip," he replied.  

Phillip was about the same height as her father, almond colored, with locks of black curly hair falling from beneath his hood.

At first, Subria felt nervous about this man talking to her, but as she listened to his voice, she began to feel strangely safe.  She didn’t walk back toward him, but she stopped backing away.

"I don’t know where my dad is," she said, shivering from the cold, and fighting off tears.

"Here," Phillip said, taking off his coat and hooded sweatshirt, placing the sweatshirt on Subria, and putting his coat back on.  "There's a police officer over there.  How about if I take you over to her, and she can take you someplace where you'll be warm?  Then she’ll call someone in your family to come get you."

"Okay," Subria said, taking his hand hesitantly and walking alongside him. 

As the police officer opened the car door to let Subria in, Subria looked up at Philip curiously. "Thanks so much for helping me, Phillip."

"It was my pleasure, truly," Phillip replied.

"Oh, I need to give you back your sweatshirt, " Subria said, beginning to take the sweatshirt off.

"No, you keep it," Phillip said, smiling at Subria.

As Subria slipped back into the sweatshirt, she noticed what was written on the front.  At first glance, it seemed like a team sweatshirt, but instead of a team's name, it said, John 3:16 in dark blue and gray block letters.  

"Bye Phillip," Subria said, embracing him before getting into the police car.

As the car pulled away, she looked out of the back window to see if she could still see Phillip.  He was standing on the corner, and she waved at him.  He smiled at her, and then seemed to disappear into the darkness like her dad did . . . but something was very different about it.  She looked toward the buildings where her dad had gone, but there was no sight of him, and she folded herself up on to the back seat and cried.

After Subria’s mom picked her up from the police station and put her to bed, Subria crept into the hallway, and waited until the light went off in her mom’s room.  She took her blanket, and tiptoed out of the room down into the kitchen, carrying the little sock monkey her father bought for her when she turned seven.  Her father had named the monkey George, because one of his favorite things was to read Curious George stories to Subria.  She opened the shutters and sat down on the window seat.  The wind chimes that her father hung up outside the window rang gently in the soft wind.  No one was on the street, as was usually the case when it snowed.  She loved how the snow looked as it danced around the street light, and on the street before the cars and buses had a chance to turn the snow all black.

Subria opened the window and pulled up the screen.  The snow had formed a little wall that didn’t fall when the screen was lifted.  That’s how she wanted to be . . . but she wasn’t.  With her father gone, she didn’t feel strong at all.  Subria scooped the snow up in her hand, squeezed it into a ball, and threw it down to the street below.  She closed the screen, window, and shutters, and bundled up on the window seat.  She held George as tightly as she could as she finally fell asleep hoping in vain to hear her father’s key in the door.

© 2010 Afrika Afeni Mills