On a train in Perth

This post is a crosspost from Jayeless, and can be read in its original location here.

I was on a packed bus a few days ago, in the dark, in the rain, and for some reason a memory came to mind of a packed train in sunny Perth almost three years ago. We were on holiday, heading back to our hotel after a day in Fremantle, with a lot of other people who were heading back from a day at the Royal Perth Show. There were a group of three boys about my age chatting excitedly about their day and plotting mischief. One of their showbags had come with a laser light, so they were constructing a devious plan to blind policemen with the light while running away from whatever. Harmless stuff, as you can see.

But the grey-haired man next to them had a stern, grouchy look on his face, and this look only darkened as the boys got even further developing their plan. Finally, he burst: “Do that and you’ll get shot!”

The boys looked at him, shocked. “What? Why?”

“Police officers are trained to shoot first and think later, if they’re blinded,” the man snapped. “I shot a boy your age once!”

“Are you a police officer?” one of them asked, in a tone approaching guilt.

“No! No, I’m much worse than that. Look, I’m not saying you will get shot, but if you’re going to mess around doing things like that you’ll have to expect it.”

Another of the boys asked, defiantly, “What were you doing that meant you had to shoot a boy?”

“That is none of your business!”

“Are you proud of yourself? Are you glad you shot a kid?”

The man looked away, staring pointedly at the wall on the other side of the train as if he couldn’t hear them.

“I bet he was in the army,” said this boy. “Who else would shoot kids? He’s a soldier, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re probably right,” said another of the boys. “He was probably on patrol or something, and snapped and killed someone. That’s what soldiers do.”

“I bet he’s not even guilty,” continued this defiant boy, so loudly that the entire half of the carriage could hear him. “I bet he’s proud of himself. That’s what soldiers are like, aren’t they? Remorseless killers!”

The man pretended not to hear him, but his face became redder and redder as they made further declarations about the remorselessness of the military. Until finally, he got off the train, to the jeering of the boys.

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