If You See Something, Say What?

The commute has certainly seemed easier since the days have grown longer, the college students have largely fled, and vacation season has kicked in. The weather has pretty well sucked, but that seems to be the pattern of the last decade in Boston (2010 excepted). I have gotten by so far by wearing a slicker and a baseball hat on those blustery, wet walks across the Summer Street bridge.

Today, after I left my car at my parking spot and began my walk to the Davis Square T, I walked right into an encounter with a former colleague who lives on the same street where I park. This is the first time we've actually run into each other, although I saw her at Christmas and mentioned my new situation. I considered hiding behind a bush or returning to my car until I knew she had passed--not because I didn't want to talk to her, but because I didn't want to talk to her all the way to Park Street (which is where I figured she'd get off the train).

As it turned out, when we got to Davis, she took the escalator down, and I said I was going to take the stairs. "Okay," she said. "Have a good day."

So, great, I figured, she wasn't in a chatty mood, either. I boarded the train, which was unusually empty. At Porter, when it began to fill up, an unusual person got on board. She (or he?) was one of those people whose gender is ambiguous. She (I finally decided the person was a woman), had on gender-neutral clothing, some kind of light black jacket and black pants. She had short dark hair, and was carrying an enormous backpack. When she boarded the train, she seemed to be trying to look for a seat. There were still a couple left, so sensing her movement out of the corner of my eye, I assumed she was trying to decide where to sit--or whether to bother, given her heavy burden.

She was holding onto the post across from me, then crossed over to my side. She kept crossing back and forth, turning herself around, looking up and down the car. Then she walked down the length of the car and continued the dance at the other end.

I have to admit, the phrase, "If you see something, say something," did come to mind. What if that gigantic backpack is a bomb and this person is a suicide bomber looking to take down a bunch of Red Line commuters? Should I get off at the next stop and report her? But then I'd be late, whereas if I say nothing, I could be...dead? Worst of all, if she were a bomber, well, that would certainly screw up the rest of the morning commute for my fellow riders!

I thought of my former colleague, who I was pretty sure was seated in the next car over. Perhaps she would be spared. Or, perhaps the terrorist was waiting until the train was on the Longfellow Bridge, and she was hoping to take down the bridge as well.

When I got to work, I reported the incident--to my significant other, who usually receives an e-mail from me shortly after I arrive at my desk. "I've heard there are a lot of nuts who ride the Red Line," he wrote back. 

Yes, the imagination runs wild on a Friday morning in summer. As you already know by my being able to write this, she (he?) was no terrorist, just a run-of-the-mill Red Line kook. I made it to work and back safe and sound, with the only tragedy being I seem to have lost my blasted T pass.

So, if you see something, say something. Or, as others say, if you fear something, you'll see something.