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------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- ------- Kevin McCoy worked late on Tuesday. He left his briefcase at the office and carried only a book and the bag of cabbages he’d bought that morning. The produce truck was always parked beside the railroad bridge where it crossed over Market Street. He usually passed it with a glance, but when he saw they were selling four cabbages for a dollar he had a sudden craving for stuffed cabbage, cabbage soup, and coleslaw. His wife might say forget about it, but for a buck she could throw them out. He had only three left now anyway. He’d given one to his boss. ------- “What’s this?” Jane said. ------- “An apple for the teacher,” Kevin told her. “You can make stuffed cabbage. It’s good for stress.” She thought she might try it. ------- It was a mile to the station, through streets that were busy even at night but not always friendly. He kept his eyes open. -------Something was happening ahead of him on Market. Ordinarily he’d have crossed over to avoid a confrontation, but this looked like a woman being hassled by a street person. She was frantic. She tried to get by, and he blocked her way, ranting unintelligibly. Of course there were no cops in sight. Kevin was cautious but not a coward. -------“Go around me,” he said to the women. He stepped between her and the vagrant. She gave him a sick smile and wasted no time getting away. The man became enraged. Words and spittle spattered from his mouth, but he made no move. He wasn’t dangerous, Kevin concluded. The last thing he wanted was to touch the guy. -------“Here,” he said. He handed him a cabbage. -------“Wuh?” the man said -------“It’s a grapefruit,” Kevin said and stepped around him. When he looked back, the man was inspecting the cabbage. Kevin hoped he hadn’t pushed him over the edge. -------The train was one he rarely took. He didn’t know the bored conductor who checked his pass. The courteous old railroad men had all retired and been replaced by kids who seemed to feel the work was beneath them. The conductor was supposed to go down to the platform at every stop. This fellow just stood at the top of the steps. When an elderly woman with a large suitcase asked for help, he shook his head. Sorry, not my job. -------Kevin got up and helped the woman off the train. He gave the conductor a hard look when he got back on, but the creep ignored him. -------When the train came to Kevin’s stop, he reached into his bag and handed the conductor a cabbage. The man took it without thinking. -------“What’s this?” he growled. -------“A lemon,” Kevin said. He thought the cabbage might come sailing after him as the train pulled away. -------He had only one cabbage left, and even that might be too many. Did this one have a destiny as well? He held it in his hand, sweet smelling and firm, like an oversized softball. He could throw it at someone if he had to. It would do a fair amount of damage. -------It was a mile to Kevin’s house. There were no sidewalks or streetlights. No traffic either. When they first moved out of the city, he carried a pocket knife at night, but that was long ago. Now the muggers had guns. What if a police car drove by? It happened sometimes. The search light would pass over him, and the car would go by without stopping. Just another late commuter. This time they might stop. -------“What’s that you have there, sir,” they’d ask. -------“A cabbage, officer,” he’d answer, or, “a weapon, officer.” -------Either way they’d probably take him to the station, and he’d have to call his wife. He put the cabbage back in the bag. -------“I’m home, sweet,” he called from the front door. His wife was in the den, watching the eleven o’clock news. He gave her a kiss. -------“What’s that?” she said, nodding at the bag. -------“It’s a... cabbage,” he said.
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