“So, you were staring at me?” I ask.
The man shakes his head once and laughs.
“Come on, Al,” Lisa says, “let’s just find somewhere else to sit. You’re disturbing other people.”
“I’m not going anywhere until he admits he was staring at you.”
He pulls the newspaper from under his arm, folds it again, and puts it back. He looks at me and then at Lisa and then back again. I look up at Al and Lisa. I look past them at the other faces. I am still confused.
“Alright, I was staring at her,” I say.
Al’s eyes bulge some more. Lisa blushes some more.
“Why?” Al asks, quieter now.
“She’s very pretty.”
Al stutters. He looks like he is going to collapse.
“So, you admit it, do you?”
“I just did.”
“That you’re a filthy pervert.”
“I didn’t admit that.”
Lisa whispers, “Al, please come on.”
“Well, you were staring at her because you find her attractive. I would call that being a pervert. Wouldn’t you?”
“No.”
“Albert!” Lisa almost shouts.
“Do you want to fuck her?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you want to sleep with my wife?”
Lisa starts hitting his arms. He jerks around from the hits. She pulls at his tie, and it tangles and tightens around his throat. She hits him again and, with a cry, picks up the suitcase and runs down the train. She is crying.