Best-Selling Author & Writer

‘A train passes here at 95 miles an hour at these times, whether you’re on the tracks or not.’ And then there was a list of times. Derek read the sign with some amusement and then as a secondary thought, checked his watch. It was 3.20pm. He looked up at the sign again and noticed that the closest time was 3.30pm.

I wonder if these times are accurate, he asked himself and then was startled by a voice from the car behind him. He turned.

“Dad, dad, aren’t you going to come back?” It was his 12-year-old son, Jeremey. He smiled and waved to his car which had not only his son in it, but his 10-year-old daughter, Agnes and his wife, Jennifer. He looked back at the sign and then returned to the car. He got into the driver’s seat, closed the door and looked at his wife. She wasn’t looking at him but instead into the distance, way beyond the railway crossing.

“It’s 3.20pm,” he began,

“3.21,” his wife corrected him.

“Namaste Mrs Wilson, hello, good morning!”

Mrs Wilson who was sitting at her desk busily marking some papers while waiting for her 12 o’clock class to arrive, pushed her reading glasses lower down her nose and looked at the students walking in. She smiled when she saw Rosa Blau with her usual large grin on her face, carrying what looked like a scrap book under her wing walk into the classroom and plonk herself on a chair.

Mrs Wilson waited for the rest of the class to take their seats before saying anything. She then carefully put her red pen down and got up from her chair. She walked over to the white board, picked up a dry erase marker and pointed at Rosa. “Good afternoon, everyone!” That caused Rosa to giggle slightly and cover her beak in embarrassment.

Each day after he finishes school, Pradeep Saxena goes straight home where he gives his mother a quick kiss on her cheek, pats his dog Lucy and then runs upstairs to begin his homework.

His sister Rita, always complained to their mother that Pradeep never came to say hi to her. “Ma!” she would say, “it’s as if I don’t exist in this world.”

Pradeep’s mother would assure Rita that she did indeed exist, and that Pradeep was on a mission when he got home. To that point, their mother would take Rita by the hand and walk her reluctantly into Pradeep’s room, where they found him hard at work tackling a maths problem. She would clear her throat pretentiously, causing Pradeep to roll his eyes and turn to face them.

“Ma!” he would say, “I have to finish my work before I can leave to go down to the station and every second counts.”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“Where did you get that outfit?”

“We aren’t going to a Halloween party, Timmy!”
“You don’t look like a Sandpiper anymore, you look like a Penguin!”
Hearing all those comments from his family made Timmy sad. “I thought,” he replied glumly, “that because we are going out to dinner somewhere where we have never been before, with people we have never met before, that I should dress up.”

“Where did you get the costume?” Sybil wasn’t sure if she was amused or annoyed.

“Mum, this isn’t not a costume. It’s a tuxedo!”
“Sorry Timmy. Where did you get the tuxedo from?”
“The thrift store.”“The one at Dad’s synagogue?”
“Yes. Benne was there and he was helping Carole, and I told him what we were doing and where we were going. So, he suggested that if I wanted to make a great impression, then I should get this tuxedo.”

Jeremy pushed open the door, the bell sounded. Two men sitting against the back wall both reading the same kind of magazines looked up, looked at each other and went back to their pastime. Jeremy felt uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure what to do next, so he remained standing there.

A couple of excruciating and painful minutes later, the slightly older one of the two men looked up but didn’t say word. Jeremy did. “I need a haircut please.” The two men looked at each shrugged their shoulders and went back to their magazines. Must be new editions, thought Jeremy, obviously more important than business. He remained standing waiting for one of them to reply.

Finally, the slightly younger of the two said, “did you read the sign on the glass?”

“Hi daddy, oh, hello mummy! I found a new friend out there in the sand while I was walking home from school.” Both Sybil and George were sitting on deck chairs with their eyes closed soaking up the sun on an extremely warm winter’s afternoon. “Her name is Melody,”

continued Rosa not taking much notice of what her parents were doing.

George was the first one to turn to face his daughter and open his eyes. “Whoa, Rosa! What are you doing?” he shouted which in turn made Sybil snap her eyes open and look in the same direction as her husband. She shrieked. Rosa blinked and wondered why her parents were freaking out.