I watched as one wave of people flowed off the train and another wave flowed on—just like the waves at the beach pushing and pulling on my toes. I wagged my feet as I remembered the sensation. I looked up at Momma. I could see her eyes drooping. Her fingers twitched on my shoulder as she fought sleep. It had been a long day. I was glad we were going home. I scooted closer to her.

 

A woman came and sat across from us. She was clinging to a big, colorful bag, and her eyes were wide, darting everywhere around her. She glanced quickly at me and smiled a toothy grin. "Hello there," she said quietly with a wave of her fingers. I stared at her, not sure if I should respond. I glanced back up at Momma for guidance, but she was now fully asleep. "Oh!" the woman gasped, and she put a finger over her mouth. Even though her hair was gray and spindly like hay, she seemed to be more like another kid. She giggled and settled in her seat.

 

She umphed a little when the train started moving and hugged her bag closer to her body. I turned toward the window but still watched her from the corner of my eye. She sat still for a few seconds, then started to fidget. She soon began rummaging in her bag like she was desperately looking for something. My head turned back toward her; I couldn't help but wonder what she needed so badly from her big bag. "Ah-ha!" She pulled out a white plastic spoon. She held it in front of her face, her eyes intensely focused on the shiny plastic. Her smile grew. She looked at me, and her glance made me jump! She extended her hand to give me the spoon. I looked up at Momma again, then at the woman, then at the spoon. "Go on," she said.

 

Slowly, carefully, I took the spoon. I looked it over to see if there was anything suspicious. Nothing was on it. It wasn't dirty. It didn't smell different. It was just a plain plastic spoon. Then I heard her rummaging again. She pulled out another one and giggled as she looked it over. "I don't know what it is, little one," she said quietly, "but I just love plastic spoons." She opened her lips wide and put the spoon face down in her mouth. She moved her jaw back and forth then pulled it out again, slowly. This, I thought, was strange. My face must have showed it because she looked suddenly awkward and defended, "Try it yourself!" She licked her spoon one more time and placed it on her nose, crossing her eyes as she watched it the whole way. The stem of the spoon wobbled with the rhythm of the train. "The plastic ones stick better than metal. And they don't feel as cold." She bobbled her head and drummed her fingers on her bag, laughing quietly as her crossed eyes watched the spoon.

Then the train hit a bump, and her big bag fell to the floor. Out spilled maybe a hundred plastic spoons! Black, white, silver; round soup spoons, mini sampling spoons, spoons with long stems...! We both watched them all crash onto the floor of the train between us, and she immediately fell to her knees to pick them up. The sound woke up Momma, and I looked up at her to try to explain. "We haven't missed our stop, have we?" she asked, stroking my hair. I looked at the woman—but she was gone. All the spoons were gone. Her bag was gone. But the one spoon stayed in my hand. "Don't pick up trash, dear, it has germs," Momma mumbled as she laid her head back on the window.

 

I craned my neck to look all around but didn't see her. No one seemed bothered. The train dinged as it slowed to its next stop. Another wave of passengers left the train, and another arrived. I wagged my feet above the floor. I licked the spoon and placed it on my nose.