Was it fate // It Was Fate
People always have so many questions when they hear how old you are. “Are you joking?” They ask. “Oh yeah? What was Jesus like?” Or even “how old are you, really?” I think this last one is my favourite. Like at this point I'd have any reason to need to lie.
Gods live long, long lives. Generally quiet lives, now. Our age has come and gone a long time ago. But as long as people remember us, as long as one of our names is remembered, we're still here. Oh, we can't do anywhere near the things we used to be able to do, but we get by. There's no prayer anymore. It all died away. And what little prayer does trickle to us now is nothing like what it used to be.
I used to really mean something. To a lot of people, as well, when they all had my name on the tip of their tongue. I blessed marriages. I kept homes safe, and I helped start families. Now I'm lucky if someone asks me to make their phone battery last another five minutes.
We could never influence free will, either. Just to stop that question before it's asked. This entire suite of godly power and all it boils down to in the end is a long lifespan. We could never influence free will, but with all the time and patience in the world, it's easy enough to push events to go the way you want them to.
Which brings me to why I'm here, today. In a train station. Trying to straighten out some thoughts and get them onto paper. Someone might see them one day and want a little context. It's cold here. I've got a coffee though, that helps. In fact, I have two.
It's funny, watching something this planned out come together all at once. It feels like every small motion should have some applause; every meticulously planned interaction should get more attention than it does.
People have always argued about fate, destiny, what have you. As far as I know, that doesn't exist. Just people like me, I suppose, trying to guide things into making their own lives a little easier.
I sit here, watching and waiting, with everything I own in the world gathered around me. There isn't much point to possessions after a little while. Even this pen I borrowed from someone's back pocket this morning. No one looks twice at someone they think is homeless, especially if they mind their own business. I do have a home. It's just a long way from here. The country doesn't even exist anymore.
I can see a man walk onto the platform from where I am. We've met before, but I doubt he would remember me. Some time ago now, we spoke while he was catching the train home. Public transportation is useful if you're looking to find anyone, or don't mind a few exasperated looks and sighs.
I knew one of his ancestors, once upon a time. Or rather, they knew me. He had no idea about any of this, of course. He tried to put a pair of headphones in every second sentence or so. But I was persistent enough we had a decent chat before he got off the train a couple of stops early. He likes the colour green.
And now here comes the latter part of this plan. A woman, this time. I knew both of their names at one point, but they completely escape me at this moment. She begins to walk down the steps onto the platform, but her sleeve snags on some rubbish sticking out from the nearby bin as she reaches the bottom. She's left-handed and favoured the rail closest to the bin.
She wouldn't usually be on this platform. Another train takes her home much more directly. Today, it was delayed, and she decided to take this one instead and walk the extra few blocks. It was payday and the start of Summer. Why not take the extra time and enjoy the early finish she got?
She'd slept in that morning and missed her alarm. She had to race out of the house and forgot to charge her phone. A nice, slow walk was just what she needed after her rushed morning.
The rubbish was a minor annoyance, though. Someone had placed a couple of things so they'd all coincidentally fall if one was knocked.
In the rush of everything falling, and a train arriving, she didn't notice one of her shoelaces come untied.
But enough about her for now. Let's take a look at the bigger picture here. This hustle and bustle of human life through the station was so difficult to account for at times. But I had all the time I needed, and I had used it. It's 1:30 pm on a Tuesday. There are as few people on this train platform as I could account for, given the city's size. It's the tail end of flu-season, some people were missing due to that. A well-timed bus driver's strike stranded several more people slightly too far from the station.
I can't account for people on day trips very well. People who regularly caught this line could be delayed or hastened, but someone just catching it as a one-off could be a problem. Things need to change minute-to-minute when that happens. A little earlier, an unfamiliar face appeared. I gave them updated ‘directions’, taking them to a different platform. If only it were so simple every time.
The man who likes green showed up a little early today. Not too early, thankfully, not early enough to trip anything up, but he almost caught the wrong train. Instead, he got to the doors just as it was leaving. I didn't even have anything to do with that, that was just a happy coincidence and a distracted train operator.
He wandered aimlessly around the platform for a little while. No idea, or not a care, that someone was watching him. He had a different pair of headphones now than when I spoke to him. These had green earbuds. I guess he wasn't lying to me. That was lucky. I don't even understand how he could use the things here. The din of the station always made it hard for me to focus on anything in particular. I preferred the trains themselves.
He checked his phone and watched the clock. He tsked at himself a few times over missing the last train. What kind of gratitude is that?
This train was running a few minutes late. The conductor was held up this morning. He'd stopped in to get his morning coffee, but someone at the front of the line was ordering the most specific drinks he'd ever heard of, and demanding they be made again immediately if they were done wrong. Someone else spilled a cup of water over the conductor on their way out. Thankfully he kept a spare in his car, or he'd be even later.
The minutes were ticking by, and the moment I was waiting for was getting closer and closer. It became increasingly difficult to keep an eye on the whole picture. A child on a trip with her parents dropped a coin off the edge of the platform. A screaming baby ignored it's mother's comfort and just wanted to let everyone know how it was going. The boy who liked green wandered away from the baby, near the entrance to the platform. Near where the first carriage of the train will be.
I could feel him suddenly, reaching out to anyone who'd hear. His phone battery was dying. He wasn’t speaking, of course—kind of a weak prayer, to anyone or anything who could help. There was no one around this time, unfortunately. In fact, his phone seemed to die away almost completely the moment it dropped under 10%. He pulled the headphones out, wondering what he'd do for the ride home. Hopefully, he'd find a newspaper on a seat somewhere.
The train was just now visible. There wasn't long between visible and ready to board, at this station. Everyone on the platform breathed a sigh of relief they almost didn't know they'd been holding, relieved they could stop waiting and get on with their days. Get out of this frozen moment.
A girl with a green backpack rounded the top of the platform stairs. She took the stairs quickly, seeing the train coming in the distance. She knocked some rubbish at the bottom of the stairs and didn't see her shoelace come loose.
And after all this, it happened. My part was done, and they'll never even know. She went to step onto the train but tripped slightly on her shoelace. She fell into the man who liked Green. He caught her, and I saw them start to talk. Each one was smiling, but I couldn't hear a word they said. The train began to slide away, sliding out of my life and taking them with. It's funny. It took me so long to plan something over in moments. Years from now they'll look back on this and think it was fate. But like I said earlier, sometimes I was asked to watch over people's families. Sometimes I was even asked to watch over their children and make sure they were happy.