It was very nearly a typical ride on the morning train to work. It was a little more crowded than usual, and lots of people were standing because the seats had long since filled up. I stood in my usual place near the door that I would use later to get off the train at my stop.
After a few stations I noticed a tall woman get on. I’m not sure what attracted my attention – that she was unusually tall, or that she was pushing along a shiny black spinner suitcase on four wheels. Whenever I see people bringing suitcases on the train I like to imagine where they might be going. To Kobe to take the bullet train off to Tokyo? To Kansai Internationl and a flight to an exotic location? It is enjoyable to let the mind wander on slow morning trains. The tall woman stood leaning up against a seat on the aisle across from me, and rolled the suitcase into place next to her.
The train left the station, and as the woman put on some headphones to listen to music, the acceleration of the train caused the suitcase to roll towards the back. I’ve never had a spinner suitcase but I had assumed that there is some kind of brake. Apparently it wasn’t engaged this time. The woman didn’t notice the suitcase leaving on its own accord – she was busy with her headphones.
Passengers on the train at this hour are pretty sleepy, and I think I was the only one to notice the little suitcase departing. It was placed perfectly in the center of the aisle, and thanks to some very quiet and well-lubricated casters it moved silently and steadily between the seats as if a passing ghost was stealing it. Some people seated on the aisle looked up with surprise as the suitcase glided by. Nobody made any move to stop it, and the suitcase traveled nearly the length of half the traincar until finally stopping gently against a seat, in which an older man awoke and blinked in surprise, no doubt wondering who delivered this gift of a shiny new suitcase.
The train continued moving, the passengers continued sleeping, and the previous owner of the suitcase looked off in the distance, unaware of the current status of her luggage.
Realizing that perhaps I was the best person to lend assistance in this situation, I leaned a bit to my left to try to get into the tall woman’s peripheral vision and get her attention. She seemed to sense the movement and look away. The woman was quite attractive and may have had some bad experiences with weirdos on the train in the past. Unconcerned with being classified as a weirdo, I waved my hand a bit more vigorously and finally she looked over. I pointed at the place where her suitcase should have been but her reaction was quite odd, she just nodded and kind of moved her hand to acknowledge that yes, this is my suitcase. I pointed again in a slightly more dramatic fashion, and she moved her hand down and as it passed through the air she at last realized that the luggage was not in fact present.
She looked down, and then back at me, her gaze then following my pointed finger towards the back of the train. Luckily the old guy was still holding the suitcase, blinking furiously now and looking around, no doubt wondering what steps he needed to take to find the owner of the wayward bag. The woman turned and walked briskly down the aisle to chase it down.
She negotiated the release of the suitcase from the old man, taking care not to look back and catch my eye; finally electing to stay there instead of coming back where she would have to face me again.
Then it was my stop, so I got off the train and went to work.
