Intuition
By philpye
- 556 reads
Intuition
From the moment the carriage doors slid open I knew I was being
followed. With a discreet glance over my shoulder I could see that he
was shadowing my every step.
If there's one quality a traveller must have if he's to stay out of
trouble, it's intuition, and mine at the moment was telling me that all
was not well. Something about his eyes. Piercing. Staring. Cold. His
manner, though not immediately threatening made me feel somewhat
uncomfortable. Probably no more than twenty years old, his shabby,
green ex-Army jacket contrasted with the orange baseball cap
&;#8230; worn back to front of course. If it weren't for the cap
then he would have melted inconspicuously into the rush hour crowds. I
suppose I must have stood out from the commuters in their smart suits
and briefcases, my large green and blue rucksack topped by the rolled
up foam mattress that made me easy prey for muggers. I quickened my
step while attempting to mingle with the crowd but a traveller amongst
the city commuters is like a fish out of water and not an easy thing to
do.
I'd arrived a little more than an hour ago, jet-lagged, hungry and
desperate for a bed for the night. On arrival at the airport I made
enquiries as to where the inexpensive but clean hostels where to be
found. Funds had to last as long as possible and a short train journey
to the suburbs would find somewhere cheap, and probably nasty, to stay.
I'd travelled enough in the past to know that cheaper rooms usually
mean the seedier districts and even seedier characters: pickpockets,
beggars, muggers and if you let your imagination run wild then everyone
is a potential killer. With this last disturbing thought in my mind I
quickened my pace further, jostling with others in order to escape from
this creep. I was now more than uncomfortable &;#8230;I felt
threatened. Time drags when you feel in danger and it took what seemed
to be an age before I reached the top of the steps and onto the busy
street that opened up before me. I readjusted the straps that were
starting to bite into my shoulders, while I caught my breath and
decided which way to head. It would also give me the opportunity to see
whether this guy passed me by. The neon lights of bars, restaurants and
shops shone brightly and served as a backdrop to the bustling crowds.
Car horns sounded impatiently at drivers purchasing the evening
newspapers while stopped at traffic signals and if I had need to then I
reckoned I could easily melt into the crowds.
'Excuse me!' a young mother snapped, as she stopped inches away from
me, seemingly reluctant to deviate from her usual course. Her young son
gave me a puzzled look as she dragged him along, his feet barely
touching the ground.
'Oh, I'm sorry,' I replied politely, while realising my audacity at
being in the same place as her. A grunt came from behind as I stood
back a pace or so to let her by, obviously encroaching into someone
else's personal space.
'Fucking day-trippers,' moaned the same voice behind which a split
second earlier had let out the grunt.
I turned to apologise for my clumsiness when those same staring eyes
bore through me like a hot knife through butter.
'Fucking day-trippers,' he repeated, this time through clenched teeth
before popping a cigarette loosely into the corner of his mouth and
letting it hang there like he was starring in some spaghetti western.
My weak smile doing nothing to offer an apology I walked slowly away in
the direction in which the majority of the crowd was heading.
Day-tripper? Fucking day-tripper? I thought, as fear turned into
disgust. I'd just flew from the other side of the world, jet-lagged,
and carrying a rucksack heavy enough to snap my spine in two if I made
a false move, and he calls me a day-tripper! Cheeky bastard! Did he see
me as some type of intruder in his country? I chose not to dwell upon
it and reckoned on him having his fun and not bothering me
anymore.
The area was cheap and tacky as I thought it would be. The pavements
were littered with cigarette butts and Macdonald's food containers,
while black rounded marks left by spat out chewing gum waited for the
unsuspecting passer-by before hijacking onto the soles of their shoes
and advertising their presence with a light slapping sound with every
step. The sickening smell of urine emanated from the disused shop
doorways stained by the overuse as public conveniences, while next door
the Greek restaurant had it's hand written menu stuck to the window
with an unsightly blob of Blu-Tac in each corner. I couldn't help but
wonder if it used to be one of the discarded mouthfuls of gum similar
to the one that was stuck to my sole.
I walked on, glancing across the busy street when a flash of orange
reflected in the blacked out windows of a seedy adult shop. Without
realising and thinking he was no longer a threat, he had continued to
follow and was now closer than ever. With shoulders hunched and both
hands deep inside his jacket pockets I began to wonder what might lie
ahead. The town was alien to me, was I heading into trouble further on?
Much of the crowd that were about had thinned out and I hadn't realised
I had walked so far in such a short space of time. Small groups of
youths hung around on every street corner and stared menacingly at any
passers-by. Where they all working together, I wondered. Strategically
placed to offer no escape? Was I being rounded up like a shepherd uses
his dog to round up his flock? I continued to sweat all over, the salty
beads running onto my lip, my cotton T-shirt sticking to my back as the
fear rose. Thoughts of past tricky situations ran through my mind. Like
the time in Amsterdam when a junkie threatened to stab me with his
syringe after England apparently beat Holland in some football match.
Usually, I do nothing in case it inflames the situation but this was
getting scary now. I turned down a side street off to my right and as
the noise of the main street receded I willed my legs to move quicker.
The light slapping sound of the gum on my sole became quicker, as did
my heartbeat. Thumping. Thumping. Looking sideways until I could see
him from the corner of my eye I could see he had followed me. This was
no coincidence; I knew he was after me now. This was the chance he had
been waiting for &;#8230; and I fell for it! It was all or nothing.
Him or me. If I did nothing then I'd be easy meat, like a lamb to the
slaughter. If I turned aggressor then maybe it would provoke him into
doing something. I had no weapons, just my fists, who knows what he has
in his pockets? I stopped suddenly and spun around to face him three or
four yards away.
'Right, you bastard!' I snarled, trying to look more intimidating than
him. 'What are you up to?'
'Wh &;#8230; what?' he said in a surprisingly soft voice. I'd
obviously taken him by surprise.
'You know what I'm talking about, don't give me that shit! You've been
following me since I got off that train!' I had the upper hand; at
least I thought I did, so I approached closer. He didn't seem to sense
that I was more frightened than he was and shielded his face with both
hands in defence.
'Look mate &;#8230;'
'No, you look. I'm not your mate and if you don't turn around now
and&;#8230;'
He pleaded with me again: 'No, listen, please. You've got the wrong
idea.'
'What, so you weren't following me. Is that what you are trying to
say?'
'Yeah, I was but &;#8230;'
'But? But what?'
He gave a nervous laugh before going on. 'But not for the reasons
you're thinking.'
'And what would those reasons be?'
With adrenaline still pumping through each and every vein I was
beginning to think that he was either a very amateurish mugger working
alone, or working as part of a team and had got me where he wanted me.
Was he lulling me into a false sense of security only to whip out a
knife before I knew what was happening? I kept up the pressure on him
aware that any of the gangs on the main street might come to his rescue
at any time. He was certainly scared now. I asked him again what his
reasons where.
'You think I'm going to mug you, right? You're a backpacker, right? A
traveller.'
'Oh, so I'm not a "fucking day-tripper" now then?'
He shrugged his shoulders.
'Well, me too,' he went on, 'but this is my first trip out here on my
own &;#8230; and I'm scared shitless. I cottoned on to you and
&;#8230;'
'And you want me to hold your hand. Is that it?'
He blushed and looked away sheepishly. I could understand his worries,
he was just a kid after all and I started to believe him. I asked him
where his pack was.
'At the Hostel. I took a train into the city this morning for a look
around, like. Tomorrow I'm away but I don't know where yet. This place
gives me the creeps.'
I looked him over once more before giving him the benefit of the
doubt.
'Joseph. Call me Joe,' I said as I held out my hand.
'And I'm Gavin,' he replied as a smile slowly appeared and his eyes
looked more friendly.
With that I hit him hard on the jaw with a left hook that any boxer
would be proud of.
'And that Gav, is your first lesson in intuition &;#8230; an
important quality for a traveller to have!'
He seemed to appreciate that.
***
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