On November 11, Lowboy ran to catch a train. People were in his way but he was careful not to touch them. He ran up the platform's corrugated yellow lip and kept his eyes on the train's cab, commanding it to wait. It was a good train, an uptown local. Its doors had closed already but they opened when he kicked them. He couldn't help but take this as a sign.

He got on board and laughed. Signs and tells were all around him. The floor was shivering and ticking beneath his feet and the brick-tiled arches above the train beat the murmurings of the crowd into copper and aluminium foil. Every seat in the car had a person in it. Never mind about that. Notes of music rang out as the doors closed behind him: C# first, then A. Sharp against both ears, like the tip of a pencil. He turned and pressed his face against the glass.

Skull & Bones, his state-appointed enemies, were forcing their way head-first up the platform. Skull was a skinny, milk-faced man, not much to look at, but Bones was the size of a ticket booth. They moved like policemen in a silent movie, as though their shoes were too big for their feet. No one stood aside for them. Bones kept stepping on the back of Skull's Reeboks by accident. Giving him a flat tyre, that was called. Giving him a flat. Lowboy smiled as he watched them stumbling towards him. He felt his fear of them falling away with each ridiculous step they took. I'll have to think of something else to call them now, he thought. Short & Sweet. Before & After. Habeas & Corpus.

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'In the Tunnel' will be printed in full in Granta 97: Best of Young American Novelists 2. To subscribe to Granta and receive the entire issue free, or to buy a copy of Granta 97, click here.

Comments

Barbara Henderson
March 5 17:47

I want to read more!!!!