Undaunted by the Clouds That Veil the View

On the high-speed train, a baby wouldn't stop crying, and the noise left no one in peace.

But no one complained. If anything, people smiled at the young couple and warmly passed on their own tips for soothing a baby.

I was the one who couldn't take it. I opened my mouth and let them have it.

Can you people handle your kid or not? Can you stop wrecking my sleep?

The couple looked at me, pitiful.

"We're so sorry. He's still little, and when he cries there's nothing we can do. Please bear with us."

That answer only made me angrier. I snapped, out of patience.

"Being little means he gets to do whatever he wants? If you don't know how to calm your kid down, just toss him out the window. Stop bothering me!"

The young couple kept apologizing and decided to get off early, but I blocked them.

"You've disrupted my whole ride. A few million in emotional damages, or forget about getting off this train!"

Every passenger was furious. They thought I was a lunatic, jumping in to condemn me, and someone even called the police.

But the moment the officers appeared, I wasn't angry. I was glad. And the couple, they came apart completely.

As the baby's crying grew louder and louder, the quiet air of the whole train broke apart.

I was sitting across from the couple, one row back, and I pulled off my earbuds to watch the two of them fumble to calm the baby down.

The woman held the baby, bouncing it as she cooed.

"Oh, don't cry, don't cry. Mommy's got you. Don't cry, baby."

Her man, all humility, kept nodding and smiling at everyone whose eyes drifted their way.

"So sorry. He's still little, we've disturbed you all. Really, we're sorry."

You don't strike a smiling face, as they say.

And this was a baby, on top of that.

The people around them all looked on kindly.

An older woman in the front row smiled and said, "One look and I can tell you two are young, no experience with kids. Just like my daughter-in-law."

Another woman put in, "Right, my daughter-in-law's the same. The second she's got the kid she gets all frazzled. Where's the patience to soothe a baby?"

"Say, why don't you check whether he's hungry?"

The nudge sent the young couple hurrying to thank them.

The man laughed. "Oh, right, right, right. Let's get him a bottle. He must be hungry."

The two of them said their thanks and took the advice, though they were a bit all over the place.

"Where's the bottle?"

"In the bag."

"Water, did you bring water?"

"The formula's in that black bag, right?"

I watched the man pull a can of formula out of a black bag, still sealed, along with a bottle that still had the label on it, never used.

My eyes went wider and wider.

The man poured bottled water into the bottle.

Then added a scoop of formula.

He twisted the cap on any old way and handed the bottle to his wife.

Sure enough, once the baby had some, the crying slowly died down.

The man immediately thanked the two women in front. "Thank you, really. We're so sorry."

The two women smiled kindly.

"No need to thank us, no need. We've been through it, we've got experience."

"A kid under one crying, it's either dirty diapers or he wants his bottle. Nothing else to it."

The man smiled and thanked them. "This is our first, mine and my wife's. We don't have much experience. Thank you, thank you."

The kid had stopped fussing.

They were all thanking one another.

Just as the mood turned warm and easy.

I glanced again at the thing tucked under the seat.

The formula can with half of it sticking out.

And the anger boiled up in me from all directions.

After thinking it over carefully.

I shot to my feet and shouted at the man, who was still apologizing.

"Thank you, my ass, you jerk. Do you have any idea you've been bothering me!"

The man turned back, eyes gentle, hands pressed together. "Sorry, sorry, buddy. My apologies. Truly sorry."

I sneered.

"What good is an apology that's just words?"

"If you really want to apologize, then get down on your knees and bow to me!"

The man froze.

And every passenger around us was staring at me now like I was something strange.

My demand was rude, obviously.

It stirred up the passengers around us.

And after a flash of fury crossed the man's eyes, he smiled again.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault. The baby's just so little, you know how it is with infants, always fussing and crying. There's really nothing I can do. My apologies, truly."

His apology looked sincere enough.

But it only hardened what I already believed. I said, coldly,

"Like I said, you kneel down and kowtow. That's the only thing that'll do."

This time the man really lost his temper.

"What is wrong with you, kid? How can you act like this?"

I sat back down, crossed my legs, and said,

"This is how I act. So what?"

The man said, indignant,

"Babies cry, it's just their nature. You didn't cry when you were little? You never threw a fit?"

"Heh." I gave a cold laugh, my eyes fixed on him, something vicious flickering through them.

"When I cried as a kid, my mom knew right away how to settle me down. When I threw a fit, my dad had a way to handle me on the spot. And you?"

"Your kid cries, and you've got nothing. No idea what to do."

"You call yourself a fit parent?"

That put a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

He paused, then said,

"This isn't my first kid, but, well, I don't have much experience."

"Heh." I laughed coldly again.

"Everybody's got a first kid at some point. Everybody's had a first time at something."

"But I've never seen a parent like you, kid crying, and completely clueless about what to do."

The man frowned and barked at me, out of patience,

"You're just making trouble for the sake of it!"

The woman beside him quickly grabbed his arm.

"Let it go, let it go."

"Let it go?" I stood up. "You people kept me from sleeping, and you want to let it go? Well, I'm not letting it go!"

"What do you want!"

The man shot to his feet.

He couldn't hold it in any longer.

But that was exactly what I wanted, for him to blow up.

I stood up too, all street-thug swagger, and taunted,

"Oh? Want to fight? Come on then, it's been a while since I've thrown a punch!"

"You!"

The man was about to lose it, but his woman grabbed him again.

"Leave it. Even if you get chewed out, it's nothing."

The woman pulled at the man while apologizing to me.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to disturb you, really, we're so sorry."

"Another apology?" I sneered. "What good is an apology? Better to give me something real. If your man won't kneel and kowtow, then you can do it instead."

The woman glared at me with hatred.

The man looked ready to breathe fire.

The passengers around us couldn't stand it anymore.

"What's the deal with this kid? How can he have no manners at all?"

"Right? Nice-looking guy, and you'd never guess how low-class he is."

"Somebody raised him wrong!"

"If my kid acted like that, I'd slap him dead!"

Everyone started laying into me.

They'd all taken the side of that young couple.

But I pressed on anyway, looking at these people scolding me, jabbing a finger arrogantly at each of them.

"What? You don't like it? Anyone want to take me on, step right up!"

More looks of disgust and contempt turned on me.

In that moment I could feel it, to every one of them I was hopeless trash, the kind that dirtied your hand if you so much as touched it.

But I still didn't back down. I said, cocky,

"What? All of you big talkers, and none of you dare do anything?"

"If you don't dare, then shut it!"

Then I stopped bothering with the rest of them and took two steps straight up to the man, squaring up to fight, and taunted,

"You little punk, weren't you the one who wanted to throw down?"

"Come on, let's go, I'll beat you into the ground!"

Every word out of my mouth was one big humiliation.

The man was so furious he clenched his fists, his chest heaving.

His breathing turned heavy.

But a few breaths later, he loosened his fists again.

"Hmph. You're young and don't know any better. I won't stoop to your level."

He turned to head back to his seat.

I was right behind him, and I shoved him hard.

Bang.

The man never saw it coming.

He cracked straight into the seat.

Split his lip on it, drew blood.

I kept right on gloating.

"Ooh, bleeding already? I've barely touched you. You really can't take a hit, can you."

"You piece of trash!"

The man snapped completely, eyes gone bloodshot, like a beast off its leash, hand already swinging for me.

I didn't dodge.

I just stood there, still.

But his fist stopped half a hand's width from my face.

Hard to imagine how a beast off its leash reins itself back like that.

Like a car doing a hundred and ten slamming the brakes.

Like there was some reason it absolutely could not let that fist land.

I looked at the fist in front of me, and I was more certain than ever.

More certain, too, that I had to keep pushing.

I looked at him and sneered.

"Go on, hit me."

"Come on, hit me."

"Why won't you hit me?"

"I hand you the chance and you can't even take it!"

I reached up and slapped my own face three times.

"Big grown man like you, how are you such a coward?"

Reached out again, slapped his face again.

The whole humiliating spectacle turned the man's eyes red.

His knuckles cracked as they clenched.

And still he didn't move.

The more he backed down, the more it fed me.

I stretched my neck out, pointed at my own face, and said,

"I know you're dying to hit me right now."

"So come on, hit me, hit me hard, right here, do it."

"You don't move, then I'm going to!"

The man roared,

"You little punk, you're insane, I won't stoop to your level!"

He sat back down.

But I wasn't done. I followed him right to the seat.

I glanced at his woman and the baby in her arms.

"Waaah." The baby, done feeding, started crying again.

The woman shot me a hateful look and hurried to soothe the child.

Smack.

I slapped the man across the face again.

"Your kid's crying and you don't know how to calm it down?"

"It's crying this much because you're a deadbeat, and now it's bothering me!"

The man forced down his rage and turned around.

"I won't stoop to your level."

"You may not, but I will!"

I yanked at him, then pointed at the floor. "Kneel. Kowtow and apologize, or this isn't over!"

"You've gone too far!"

The man stood up again.

Kneeling looked like his last line.

And I was going to cross it anyway.

The other passengers had had enough of me, especially the two older women up front, all of them cursing at me.

"What a lowlife, what a bastard, how does the world make trash like you!"

"No manners at all. If your parents saw this, you'd drive them straight into the grave!"

I turned to the two women and smirked.

"Don't you worry. If my parents saw me like this, they wouldn't be mad. They'd clap and cheer. They'd give me a reward."

The woman looked at me like I was an idiot.

"You really are out of your mind!"

"Hey, how'd you know I'm out of my mind?"

I grinned at her, delighted.

She froze.

"You're actually out of your mind?"

I laughed. "You read people well. I'll lay it out for you. I just got out of a psychiatric hospital."

The next instant the grin dropped off my face. I grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and said, cold,

"So are you kneeling or not?"