She struggles down the stairs at Platform 14 of Hamburg's central
station. Labouring somewhat under a backpack and two carry-on suitcases, she
stops halfway down the steps to catch her breath.
A man, maybe in his thirties, shabbily dressed, picks up one of her bags and asks whether he can carry it the rest of the way. She’s grateful yet suppresses the instinct to say, "Don't bother; I can do it." Instead, she closes her mouth into a soft smile and gives a nod of thanks for his civility.
At the bottom of the stairs, she hasn't even finished saying her thank-yous when he launches into an elaborate story: he and six friends were travelling south, he missed his train, and something, something, and still more—she can't quite keep the facts in order.
After quite a ramble, she understands that he "just needs" 12 Euros (or was it 15 or 20?) to meet up with his friends. He'll travel with her to Hannover, carry her luggage, and then be able to pay her back when they reunite there.
He keeps talking while she thinks: Phaah. He's standing too close. His breath smells of alcohol. He has no teeth. He's obviously high. He can't really think this will work, can he? He must live in another world where an old woman still believes these kinds of lies.
When he finishes his pitch, she gazes into his eyes with a measure of kindness and says, "No, thank you." They both nod, and he disappears into the crowd.
She lingers for a moment, then glances at a man who has been observing the encounter the whole time. She blinks, gives him a half-smile, and wanders off in the opposite direction.
A man, maybe in his thirties, shabbily dressed, picks up one of her bags and asks whether he can carry it the rest of the way. She’s grateful yet suppresses the instinct to say, "Don't bother; I can do it." Instead, she closes her mouth into a soft smile and gives a nod of thanks for his civility.
At the bottom of the stairs, she hasn't even finished saying her thank-yous when he launches into an elaborate story: he and six friends were travelling south, he missed his train, and something, something, and still more—she can't quite keep the facts in order.
After quite a ramble, she understands that he "just needs" 12 Euros (or was it 15 or 20?) to meet up with his friends. He'll travel with her to Hannover, carry her luggage, and then be able to pay her back when they reunite there.
He keeps talking while she thinks: Phaah. He's standing too close. His breath smells of alcohol. He has no teeth. He's obviously high. He can't really think this will work, can he? He must live in another world where an old woman still believes these kinds of lies.
When he finishes his pitch, she gazes into his eyes with a measure of kindness and says, "No, thank you." They both nod, and he disappears into the crowd.
She lingers for a moment, then glances at a man who has been observing the encounter the whole time. She blinks, gives him a half-smile, and wanders off in the opposite direction.
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