SFserial | an online novel

Brody stepped up. “’Scuse me,” he said to Cherise, and pushed himself in between her and the younger guy who was digging frantically in his pockets for something he could use to kill her. Cherise stepped back clumsily. She didn’t lower her fists, but glared at him from behind her sunglasses. Brody said nothing to the angry man with the crazy blue eyes, but his heart was pumping as he steadied himself. His left hand formed a solid plane which crashed, cutting down like an axe, just below the man’s ear. It took less than a second, and the blue-eyed man’s shoulders crumpled.

Blood pounded in Brody’s ears. He felt powerful, and it made him uneasy. He was afraid to push this whole scene too far, to really hurt someone like he’d done before, so he hooked his leg behind the harasser’s and pulled. Suddenly the man was seated again, next to his friend, rubbing his neck. The blue eyes stared up at Brody, confused that he now had both the guy in the hoodie and the mini skirt chick who’d kneed him on the chin to contend with. The train came to a screeching stop in the middle of the block before UCSF and the driver, a no-nonsense black man, short and overweight but clearly in charge, walked back to them, followed by the man in the brown hat.

“What’s the problem?” The driver demanded.

“No problem, man,” the older bum spoke up.

Cherise was standing shell shocked, her arms now locked behind her, her bass propped between her legs. She stared at Brody. What did he do to the guy? She wanted to know so she could do it too. Brody looked fairly innocent, he hoped, the white tails of his iPod still hanging from the neck of his hoodie. He took a deep breath. “No problem, sir. I’m just getting off here.” Brody said, looking directly at the driver. He managed a weak smile and snuck a look at the girl with the aviator glasses, who now kept her head down, as if pretending not to be involved. The train driver carefully scrutinized the four of them. “Heard there was a fight back here. Anyone pressing charges?”

“That dude–“ the blue-eye antagonizer whined “–that dude hurt my neck. And she –that one, there—“

“Anyone pressing charges?” The driver interrupted. “Or you–“ he looked directly at Brody “–getting off here?” The door. swung open

“No charges, man.” said the older man. “Nothin’ doing.” He kept a hand on his younger friend, holding him back from answering the driver again.

“Yeah, I mean yes sir, I’m getting off here.” Brody rushed towards the door, frantic to be off the train. He wondered as he pounded down the steps whether the girl was pissed he had stepped in. And yet – what the hell did that guy have in his pocket? Brody was confused, unsure if the line he’d just crossed was warranted. He could imagine the guy’s neck in his hands again. His hands felt gummy with sweat, and his temples throbbed. He could have hurt the man with a little more pressure and an extra twist. Giving a last nod to the girl and the driver of the train, Brody slipped out into the drizzle, just a couple of blocks too early. And Cherise, with the prospect of staying with the bums and the driver, picked up her gear and rushed to follow Brody out.

“Hey!” she said, running to catch up with him, fumbling to put on her jacket without setting down the instrument. “Hi.”

Brody was definitely confused. He had been on his way home after a 12-hour work day, and now his clothes were getting all wet and he had just assaulted someone on a train. And the girl who started it all was suddenly with him, matching his stride. “Where do you live?” she asked.

“End of the next block, there,” he replied. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, and then the words start coming out quickly: “What did you do to that guy? That was crazy! I can’t believe you made him sit down so fast. I was going to kill him, that dirty asshole. Fucking crazy fucker. What was it, you know some kind of judo or something?”

“Something like that.” Brody answered quietly, looking at the girl by his side. She was definitely tall, though her boots added an extra two inches, he noticed. Her face was prettier than he had thought on the train, but not perfect. There was something about her nose…it was larger than some of her other features. A nose that could be at home on a Mayan statue, he thought. Strong. Proud. Her eyes were large, light brown, and sparkling with intensity. She had long black lashes.

He was trying to take in these details, to know whom he was dealing with, as they walked down the block towards his apartment. She was watching him too. Their faces were close. It was almost as if they were already a couple. Then they were at the stairs to Brody’s apartment, which were slick with moisture. It had just stopped drizzling and seemed even quieter than normal on Hugo Street. “Are you…okay?” he’d asked again, for lack of anything better to say.

Cherise looked down at her boots, and then back up at him. She wanted to sit down on the steps but it was wet everywhere. She needed to collect herself—she was not even sure why she’d gotten off the train. She was supposed to meet Sammy and Dan the drummer at Sammy’s place out in the outer Sunset.

“Let’s go in.” Cherise said this casually, as if they’ve known each other for years. “I have to pee.” She didn’t actually have to pee, but she couldn’t otherwise explain why she wanted to get into his apartment. But she compulsively wanted to see where he lived. Maybe just sit around with him, watching TV or something, she thought. After the chaos on the train, she suddenly craved the calm that this stranger exuded even more than the noise she’d been rushing towards at Sammy’s. She had no idea who he was, but she didn’t want to leave him just yet.