“Let her go, young man.”
The elderly woman had stood up.
“Not so mouthy without your friends, huh?”
She steadied herself with her cane, her mustard coat bright against the empty seats.
“Right now. You hear me?”
He barked out a laugh.
“What are you going to do, Grandma?”
She didn’t answer him.
She just turned and walked, slow and steady, to the red intercom panel by the door.
“Let her go, young man.”
She pressed the button and waited.
Then she spoke clearly enough to carry over the noise of the train.
“Yes, hello. There’s a man in car four holding a woman against her will. Please send someone at the next station.”
The woman in the cardigan stood.
“I’m so scared,” The bully said sarcastically.
She pressed the button
A passenger near the doors, a young woman with a phone, rose too.
They looked at his hand, then at me, then each other. One woman nodded, and they approached together.
