Bedtime Story: The Night Train — Night 17
The Night Train
Copyright 2014, by Barbara Hinske
Rachel paused inside the entrance, allowing her eyes to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights after the dreary morning outside. She unbuttoned her heavy coat and tucked her gloves in her pocket as she made her way to the high reception desk.
The clerk was busy reviewing papers and responding in monosyllables to an elderly man vociferously advancing some position and directing the clerk’s attention to the papers. Rachel couldn’t understand what either man was saying, but she sensed that this would be a lengthy exchange.
The clerk raised a hand to silence the man and leaned over the counter to acknowledge her, thanking her for her patience and assuring her that he would be with her in a few minutes. He spoke to her in English; it must be obvious that she was an American. She smiled and nodded her thanks, and the smile froze on her lips. As he turned his attention back to the man in front of her, she saw the tattoo on the back of his neck.