The Known Stranger Part-1

Just as the doors of the underground were about to shut, a man leaped in panting heavily. He had apparently run for it. Murmuring a few apologies to the people around, he found a seat and sat down.

Steve, a 30-year old accountant with one of the leading firms of the country, was seen as a promising prospect, a diligent worker, smart while planning, witty with friends, polite with superiors, courteous with colleagues and subordinates, not really handsome, but a gentleman with the ladies and a flirt at clubs.

As he got settled comfortably on his seat, he started observing people around him. When travelling, he enjoyed observing people and thinking what their stories might be, an imaginative exercise based on observation, done just as a pass time, not necessarily correct or even close to being correct. In fact if all his stories were correct, then the city of New York would have had more masked vigilantes or hidden mafia-lords or undercover agents than normal people!

He noticed a woman sitting a few seats away from him. Middle-aged woman, in her early 40s probably, must have been quite beautiful in her youth and still retained the grace and beauty that would be a subject of envy for many young women and a lesson in ageing beautifully for the older ones. She was dressed casually in a pair of jeans, white shirt and a brown leather jacket, carrying a small handbag. Somehow, she seemed familiar. Steve tried to think where he had seen her but couldn’t recall immediately.

Just then, she looked up to check the stops and he recognised her. She had been one of his teachers back in high school! She was the youngest teacher in the school, and rather attractive too. She was always a subject of gossip among the teenage boys who had just hit puberty, and a role-model-of-sorts for the girls. He too, was rather fond of her, as he had been called to carpet quite a few times by her. But since he had been a good student, he also shared a good rapport with her. And like every other boy in his school, he too had had a crush on her.

He got up and walked upto her.

“Good evening, Miss Rogerson.”

She looked slightly taken aback at being addressed so formally by an apparent stranger.

“You probably didn’t recognise me. I am Steve McKay. I was in your literature class in 1998 in The Country Side High School,” he told her when she didn’t reply for a while.

“Oh yes! Pardon me, Mr. McKay, but I couldn’t recognise you immediately. How are you?”

“I am fine ma’am.”

“I am no longer your teacher Steve, you can call me Kelly,” she said.

“Thank you ma’am, but the memory of all those detentions you put me in will take some time to fade,” he replied in an innocent voice, causing his former teacher to laugh a musical laughter.


To Be Continued.....