stay.

DING!


The bell sounded and the doors began to fold closed; the noise had made my decision for me. I watched, a little helplessly as the tram pulled away from my stop. Katie and Clark diminishing in size as the distance between us grew.


Katie would be disappointed; Clark would be pissed.


I turned back to the old man sitting next to the doors. He just sat there, smiling like the damn Cheshire Cat, the empty coke placed neatly on his left thigh, balancing despite the rocking tram. I took a second to size up this new distraction.


The man sat with a relaxed posture, as if he knew exactly where he was headed, but didn’t care how long his journey took. His brown suit looked well-worn and comfortable, the creases in the white shirt underneath matched the weathered lines in his dark skin. His outfit looked like it was meant for hotter climates and it looked worn more out of habit than a desire to be well dressed – although I suspect that in his mind they weren’t mutually exclusive. Suddenly the doors flung open again, indicating that the tram had arrived at the next stop.


I flinched.


Why am I so jumpy?


I had been staring at this stranger for far too long, something about him made me feel uneasy. Yet I had made my choice to stay and question this old man, so I was going to make it worth it. I moved forward and sat in my previous seat. The old man continued to smile, unperturbed by my actions, though he removed a broad brimmed straw hat and placed it next to the can of coke, revealing a short crop of salt-and-pepper hair. A gesture of courtesy perhaps?


Now that I was closer to him, I noticed the man smelled of tobacco. Not the coarse stench of commercial cigarettes, but something more exotic, with hints of pepper and vanilla. I struggled to think of how to open the conversation, I didn’t really understand his explanation of the betting game before. This oddity combined with everything that had happened during the lecture was quickly adding up to one of the strangest days I had ever experienced. But the man seemed knowledgeable, something told me my decision to stay on the tram would either throw light onto the strange events of the morning, or just make me more confused.


“So what will it be, are you playing or not?”


Well I guess that solves that riddle.


I hesitated, still trying to formulate a worthy response in my mind. The old man laughed, his face still creased by that pleasant and distant smile.


“So I see you’ve made your choice.”


For some reason that comment made me uncomfortable. Today was already too surreal for my liking, and my choice to stay on the tram discussing the insane ramblings of a very likely senile old man, was not making it any better. The man continued on with his discussion, clearly taking my company as a sign of interest.


“You see, Waltes was supposed to be a sort of ritual, played at weddings or special days; times with a strong connection to the spirit world. That’s why it’s so important, choosing to play and in turn choosing to cheat, would result in…consequences.” He paused and looked into my eyes.


“Far better not to play at all”.


This guy would be right at home in my neuro-psych lecture…maybe he and the lecturer were friends? Now that would be weird.


The thought of the lecture brought up the memory of my embarrassment, making my face feel hot. My brain was tired and it was only lunchtime. There was too much to process, too much to try and wrap my head around. I should have stayed in bed.


The man now sat, looking to me expectantly. I struggled to think of a response, when it occurred to me that he had repeated himself.


“But what’s the point of choosing not to play? Surely it defeats the purpose of the game if you don’t play at all.” My answer sounded significantly less abrupt in my head, but I was getting irritated at how cryptic this conversation was becoming.


The man seemed to accept this answer and continued “but what if you don’t know you are playing? Even more so, what if you didn’t know you were playing against a bad sport?”


I felt I had to reply with a worthy answer. Not really knowing where the words came from, I answered his question. “You can choose to face an honest opponent, but what if that guy had had a bad day and felt he needed to win? You could choose to face a dishonest man, but what if a sudden crisis of conscience occurred that morning and turned his life around? Choosing an opponent makes no difference in my opinion.”


The man sat forward, clearly excited: “Exactly! You may think you can choose your opponents but you can’t choose how they will play!”


My phone rang again, the ringtone sounding anticlimactic.


“Shit”


It was Katie again. I reluctantly click ‘answer’ on my phone’s screen and put the device to my ear.


“Hey Katie, I…”


Clark’s voice angrily cut in. “Dude where are you? We thought we saw you on a tram that just went by, if you missed the fucking stop, we are eating without you!”


Why did he keep using Katie’s phone?


Before I could respond there was a shuffling on the other end and Katie’s voice appeared, calm and lovely, in stark contrast to Clark’s. “Steve, is everything ok? We saw you go by on a tram, but you just stood at the door, like a zombie….why didn’t you get off?”


Clark’s voice reacted angrily to this, but I couldn’t hear what he had said. I had been dreading this moment since the old man had begun to talk to me. What could I say that would make it better? There was nothing, I could say that would relieve me of that special guilt felt when bailing on plans with friends, especially when you can’t even kid yourself that it’s a valid reason. I glanced next to me out of desperation, the old man seemed very amused by my struggle.


“Uh…hey Katie, Yeh I ran into an old…..friend after the lecture and kinda got caught up…” my voice trailed off as I feebly said “I don’t think I’ll make it to lunch.” There seemed to be more shuffling on the phone as Katie said “Sorry, what was that? Hey Steve, I’ll have to call you back, Clark saw Greedo coming and we had to hide!” and with that she hung up, quick to escape the grievance from our school days.


I looked up from my phone’s empty screen and suddenly became aware of the silence surrounding me. The tram still made its usual noises, bustling along its predetermined tracks; yet, the interior was quiet. The silence was intimidating, no one spoke, the music heard from headphones too loud had drained away, even the simple shuffling of feet and general bodily discord had diminished to all but silence.


The man in the suit who had questioned my Myki’s validation now stood stock still, his grey suit silhouetted against the tram’s windows, giving him a slightly ethereal presence. His smartphone hung loosely by his side an unfinished email waiting patiently. The woman next to him, wearing a red dress, stared out the window vacantly, registering nothing around her. And as I looked around the tram I realized all the passengers were the same, all of them, stuck in the same trance.


I was scared now, my confusion at the old man’s conversation and irritation at potentially ditching my friends for nothing was forgotten.


“What’s happened to them? Why aren’t they moving?” my question was meant with silence, yet movement behind me made me turn. The old man cackled, putting his hat. “Something special has happened today, something special happens every day.” I was not sharing his glee.


“What do you mean?


The tram rolled to a stop and the doors flung open with determination “Maybe choosing to play was as easy as getting out bed this morning”. The man tipped his hat as a goodbye and stepped off the tram, wooden cane clicking with each step.


“Are you going to stand there all day?”


What? I looked down and saw a short old lady trying to push past me, obviously not sharing my astonishment. I quickly looked around the tram and saw that everyone had returned to normal, the corporate man resumed typing his email, the woman in the red dress began reading a novel and the faint music from someone’s head phones had resumed playing. Not wasting any time investigating this phenomenon I grabbed my bag from beneath the seat and leapt off the tram searching for my erstwhile companion.


But I could not see him amongst the crowd. Damnit! He had a cane, how far could he have gotten! With a frustrated sigh I shouldered my bag and headed off in the direction I had come, I was thoroughly finished with strange coincidences and cryptic conversations. Perhaps I could still catch Katie and Clark now that they had to evade being see by Greedo.


I pulled my phone out as I walked, struggling to think up a good excuse to tell my friends when I noticed a message from an unknown number.


Your die has been cast, please go to 134A Linlithgow Lane to make your next move.


This day was quickly becoming my least favourite. But I was now faced with two more decisions and seemingly limitless consequences.


Do I try and catch my friends? Or do I investigate the mysterious message?