Catalunya - Light-Fingers

Joaquim spent some time showing me how to take the train home alone – showing me which side of the platform to ride on, where to find the train schedule, and how to choose the correct line.  The train was fuller this time and we sat apart.  I knew the 70 minute ride would be hot and I took off my sweater, putting it in his bag and tossing my coat on the overhead rack.  And then I settled down to sleep, listening to the idle chatter of the three women next to me, only waking when I heard Joaquim´s voice speaking to them.  They had been talking to much they were worried if they had missed their stop, but he told them where they were.  The people on his side of the train had left, so I slipped over to sit by him, and we were both looking at the group behind us on the train.  ¨Such great costuming,¨ I said.  ¨Think of how many shops you would have to go to, to get those outfits in place.¨

One man was wearing an African print leotard over which he had pulled a pair of black nickers that were artfully slashed.  His head was shaved and he had on a black shirt and heavy shoes with the marks of much wear on them.  His companion had black curly hair into which had been braided dredlocks that artfully fell down his shoulders.  Gold rings were on two fingers of his left hand and his right wrist was banded with at least two inches of braided friendchip bracelets.  The third man was wearing a black shirt, open to the belt buckle, and the sides were sewn open as well, ending at his waist, so the outfit showed more skin than shirt.

Four stops from home Joaquim began to show me how to get off at the correct station, where to look at, and what to look for above the train door for destination information on the train.  At the third stop before home our fellow travellors got up to leave, a fourth joining them, a woman who had been so slouched in her chair that we hadn´t seen her there, and she staggered sleepily behind them.  The second man, the dreadlock man and Joaquim moved at the same moment, the first to bring my coat down from the rack and at the same time Joaquim´s hand grabbed the lining and said, ¨The coat is hers.¨

¨Abandoned¨, said Mr. Dredlock.

¨Hers,¨ said Joaquim.

¨I am no thief,¨ said the man.

¨The coat is hers,¨ said Joaquim, again with a quick nod in my direction.  The other man bend down, eye to eye, nose to nose with Joaquim, and growled something at him, ...the respectful translation of which I got later and would be, ¨Don´t mess with my private parts, man.¨  Then he left go of the coat and the four of them slipped out of the train.¨

¨I am not sure of everything that just happened,¨ I said to Joaquim. ¨I can tell you that all I have in the pockets is a roll of dental floss, since I have been worrying about pick pockets all day.¨

¨I just didn´t want to see you walk home in the cold without a coat,¨ said Joaquim.

Arta