The Never Ending Story

He was a bear of a man, both in physical size and in follicle quantity. He liked the look, because that paired with his rarely washed clothes tended to make people leave him alone. Not that he was anti-social; he actually quite liked talking to others. Unfortunately, most people don’t like talking to hobos, except the kind of people that hobos would want to avoid. So his unkempt appearance and bodily odor served their purpose.

         His dad had named him Elijah, and he tended to live up to the name only in that he often appeared to be talking to things that couldn’t be seen. He really wasn’t as crazy as he seemed, he just got tired of not talking. So he would speak aloud what others would usually just think.

         On this particular Tuesday, Elijah was riding the subway. He wasn’t one of those hobos that rode the subway all day; in fact the enclosed space almost suffocated him on short rides. But Tuesdays meant twenty cent tacos at Molly’s, and it was a long walk to 15th Street.

         It was this fear of enclosed spaces that spiked when the subway shuttered violently and then ground to a halt. The other passengers were merely disgruntled that their evening commute was being delayed.

         “Oh man, oh man! The whole thing broke! We’re trapped!” Elijah frantically said.

         A voice played over a speaker and said, “Sorry for the delay folks. We have technicians on their way and we will have the problem fixed soon.”

         “No way!” Elijah screamed. He pushed his way through the disgruntled passengers and pressed himself against the door. Despite his most desperate attempts at getting out, the mechanical doors wouldn’t budge. Elijah resorted to yelling, “Let me out! Let me out!”

         “Calm down there, big guy. We’ll be out soon enough.” Elijah looked at a young man in a suit, the source of the voice. He decided was best to ignore the man and went back to pounding on the doors.

         “Now there’s no use in doing that, you’ll just bust up your hands,” the man said, putting his hand on Elijah’s shoulder. Elijah turned slowly, a silent acknowledgement of his already hurting fist. Though the subway was crowded, the man talking to Elijah was the only one within five feet. The other passengers were acutely interest in everything but the large homeless man, managing to look everywhere else.

         “The subway aint so bad,” the man said, extending his hand, “I’m Will. How about you?”

         Elijah was surprised at this gesture and managed only to awkwardly shake Will’s hand and grunt.

         “Alright, big guy. Nothing wrong with a little bit of privacy. Where are you heading to?”

         Elijah flicked his yes to the doors, mentally begging them to release him and quietly said, “Molly’s.”

         Will cracked a big smile and said, “Damn good tacos there! Molly runs a good place. Funny thing happened last time I was there. You ever seen the big fat lady that talks like a hick there?”

         Elijah nodded, stroking his beard softly.

         “So this lady is sitting right in the middle of Molly’s with this mountain of tacos. She must have had twenty tacos, no joke. And the worst of it? She was sitting there farting. Loud, nasty ones right after each other.”

         Elijah smiled and said, “That does sound like her.”

         “Molly’s is pretty small, you know, so nobody was very happy about that. But it ended up being some British guy going up to talk to her. So he used his fancy accent to tell her off in the most polite way I’ve ever heard. And do you know what she did next?”

         “What?” Elijah said, moving his hand to a nearby pole.

         “She threw a taco at him! Hit him right in the face!” Will exclaimed, laughing loudly.

         Elijah laughed too. It felt good. “Then what happened? Is that the end of the story?” Elijah asked. He gripped the pole tight as the train started moving again.

         “The story doesn’t end, stories never end. That’s where that story stops being interesting, but stories always continue, and they always will. At least until the universe ends, I guess.”

         Elijah mulled this over, and then realized that the train was moving again. “We’re not stopped anymore,” he said with surprise.

         “Nope. That wasn’t so bad, was it big guy? If this place didn’t reek of urine I would prefer it to my cubicle,” said Will.

         Elijah laughed. It felt really good. It was still crowded in the subway, but it really wasn’t all that bad.

         “Hey big guy, this is the stop for Molly’s, you don’t want to miss it. Nice talking to you.”

         “You too,” Elijah said, meaning it. He allowed himself to be taken by the flow of the crowd getting off. He lost sight of Will as the subway pulled away.

         “I guess that’s the end of our story,” Elijah muttered. Then, with a smile, “No, not the end.”

         And some time later, the universe ended.