It was quite late in the evening. The distinct sound of a woman’s high heels striking the hard tiles can be heard echoing just in front of him. It sounded as if she wanted to get in and out of the place as quickly as she could. The young man wondered why. The young man decided to slightly quicken his pace as he walked down the steps leading to the pedestrian underpass.
The underpass was dimly-lit. Two of the fluorescent bulbs had defective starter switches making them turn on and off at constant intervals.
The middle-aged guard supposedly securing the area was slumped on a nearly broken white dirty plastic garden chair. He was fast asleep near the air vents just below the steps. His white uniform top was unbuttoned exposing his torn undershirt which was quite small for him causing his big belly — the belly button transformed into a slit — to show. The guard had taken off his very worn out shoes and was wearing cheap rubber flip-flops probably bought at the some wet market. His navy blue pants were folded up to his knees as if he just came from planting rice in a field. A well-maintained shotgun lay on the floor near the guard’s feet next to a 1,5 liter plastic soft drink bottle which has been refilled with ordinary water. It would seem that the guard takes more care of the shotgun rather than his own appearance.
Then the young man noticed the man clad in a black worn-out jacket who was talking on his cellphone. He was whispering, but the young man could sense impatience in his voice. It seemed that he was talking about the contents of the big paper bag at his feet as he was constantly — though maybe unconsciously — pointing to and fidgeting with it. The man stopped talking and took an annoyed look at the young man who then pretended pretended not to notice and quickly shifted his eyes to the advertisement posters that lined the walls; cold sweat dripped down the young man’s forehead as he went past the man. The young man heard the man resume his conversation with the person at the other end of the line but could sense the man was still watching him.
Halfway through the underpass, a couple of teenagers with bright red bandannas, baggy jeans, over-sized shirts and high-cut basketball shoes were coming in the opposite direction. The woman whose shoes he’s been hearing striking the ground, broke into a slight jog as she went past the teens. The teens took little notice as they continued to walk toward the young man. Hearing soft voices behind him, the young man carefully glanced over his shoulder and noticed three other teens with similar clothes walking behind him. The biggest of the three behind him was smoking a cigarette and appeared to be the leader of the group. As the two teens in front of him approached, the young man noticed that they had piercings on their ears, nose, and lips.
The teens in front of him and at his back have now stopped talking. The young man tightened his grip on his bag and took a deep breath. He could feel the sweat on his back and on the side of his face. Chills were running up and down his spine. He could feel his heart pounding inside his chest.
Just then, one of teens behind him gave a shout! The young man was startled so he closed his eyes and prepared for the worst. He could hear them running towards him: two from the front and three from the back! Their were voices filled with excitement! Then again, silence. Nothing happened. He heard laughing behind him. He looked back and saw the teens giving each other high-fives and ‘secret’ handshakes. The young man gave a sigh of relief.
As he approached the stairs going up to the main street, he noticed a couple of homeless men who decided to use two of the stair steps as their bed for the evening. They apparently didn’t care if people were still walking up and down the steps. When he came closer, the young man realized why. The two homeless men had spent the early part of the evening on a drinking spree. The young man could smell the mixture of liquor and stench a couple of feet away. He stepped over the men as carefully as he could so as not to disturb them. He had just lifted his leg over the last of the men when he angrily got up and gave what sounded to be a growl. The young man froze as he expected the drunk to hit him. However, the drunk man looked at the young man, shyly whispered his apologies and went back to sleep.
The young man finally reached the last step to the main street. The street lights were brighter and were a very welcome sight. Several people were waiting for either buses or taxis. There was no sign of the woman in the high-heeled shoes. With such events happening in a span of a couple of minutes in a pedestrian underpass, who could blame her?