3rd car of the D train
Spring finished early. It is now mid-May and someone had turned up the early morning heat in Brooklyn. Many of the people filling the D subway train cars screeching towards Manhattan were dressed for summer and so the short skirts blew up and about and some of the men who wore sports jackets to work holding the day’s newspaper in their hand. As usual the code of silence was observed so that the sounds of metal on metal were clear and loud. There was no escape from the flow of stale air for the early morning passengers. It was a time for some to think, hope, dread today or tomorrow, wonder. The seats were all taken while the remaining passengers swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the train.
The train During the daily some of the passengers in the 3rd car of the D train was filled with regulars fulfilling their rush hour routine. The faces and habits were familiar.
There was the guy who always listened to music through his earbuds and you could hear his music if you stood near him. There was the short round Asian middle-aged lady who smelled of garlic who always carried a purse the size of a backpack. There small bundles of school kids, laughing, poking and provoking breaking the silence of the train car.
A few weeks ago, a new passenger joined the 3rd car of the D train . He stood out. He was an older guy, dark skinned, may be Indian, or a Packie, or maybe someone from the middle east. He soon became a regular. who always wore a grey baggy raincoat, circa 1950s, topped off by a straw hat. He wore a pencil pepper and salt mustache below his nose and was always seated never standing. I named him ‘’raincoat man’ and he always sat around the same seat near the middle of the 3rd car of the D train. That must have meant that he likely boarded the train before all the seats were taken near the start of the D train route near Coney Island, maybe around 86th St and 25th avenue.
He generally sat with his eyes closed and often hummed a barely audible tune. He carried nothing with him, no briefcase, nor book or newspaper nothing. He seemed to always look down and not up at people in the rest of the car or at the people hanging onto straps swaying with the motion of the train.
Days ago, while standing near ‘raincoat man’ I noticed he took a tiny notebook out of the pocket of his raincoat and wrote down something and handed the note to a passenger who was standing over him. The man took the note and read it. I was standing next to him so I could see what it said. I can be nosy. It read, “Be careful. The people that you are meeting with today are not what they pretend to be.” The guy looked at me and mumbled, “What the hell is this about.” The note could have been meant for me not the other guy since I would have a meeting scheduled with colleagues at my struggling software start up but that warning….where the hell did that come from? I am a bit superstitious so the note could have been meant for me.
I looked at the guy with the note in his hand and shrugged but was also unglued just a bit since my start up gang were at this point a nervous disillusioned bunch, by our lack of business progress.
Several days later it rained hard and the familiar subway car scent was now replaced humid rancid odor. Most of us were standing but not ‘raincoat man’, The train stopped at the Prospect Ave station. Few people got off the train and more pushed and piled on. Standing near him was a young girl who had a school bag on her back.
Raincoat man scribbled a note and handed it to her and she took it. She read the note aloud. “You will be a star student today.” She showed the note to an elderly lady standing next to her. “Look at this note I just got. Isn’t that terrific?” The woman said nothing just smiled at her.
During the next weeks the notes didn’t stop. Every few days someone else was handed a note and suddenly it seemed that notes became part of the culture of the 3rd car of the D train. People talked to each other about the man in the old raincoat and his notes to train passengers. I was standing next to the guy who seemed to have been the first note recipient and said, “I remember when you got that note a few weeks ago that said something like beware of your colleagues at today’s meeting. “What happened that day.” He responded immediately, “The guy’s note was right on. Somehow his message to me stuck and boy was it helpful since I could easily have been screwed without…well I guess…that warning. Crazy, isn’t it.”
I responded, “Guess so and he has been writing notes and handing them to people for some time. Wonder what those other notes say and how does he select who he gives them to? By the way it feels like the note you got could have been meant for me since his note was incredibly prophetic. After that day when I read the note intended for that other guy I knew I could never trust my start up partners again.”
I couldn’t help myself. Right after raincoat man got off the train at Bedford Avenue I announced in a loud voice so that passengers near me could hear, “Have more of you aside from myself and the guy standing next to me been given notes by a passenger who just got off the train if you don’t mind, what did your notes say that is, if you want to share that information. At first everyone ignored my request but then some hands went up and a couple of people told others what their notes said and also some added that they felt like his notes predicted the future in some of their lives.
Not much else was said and I exclaimed ‘Wow’.
I thought that raincoat man, or maybe I should call him note man, makes for an interesting story. I wondered aloud ‘Does anyone know who he is, anything about him. Lots of shrugs and no one knew much about him.’
Coming home later that day I thought I would call the local newspaper, The Brooklyn Bugle and tell them about raincoat man or note man. Got through to the assistant editor and told him about raincoat man and thought he would be the focus of an interesting human-interest story in the Bugle. The guy laughed. Do you realize how many interesting human-interest stories we hear about all the time. Some time ago we kept a record of the number of people wandering around Brooklyn who were Jesus, Moses, the king of some fictional country and we even identified people who claimed that they used to be an elephant, or zebra…so this guy seems pretty tame and not all that dramatic. Get back in touch with us when it turns out he informed someone about a lucky number that went on to win the lottery. Good luck and enjoy your raincoat man.”
So that was that but raincoat man didn’t leave my mind screen and so I had an idea. I was curious. I would exit the train when raincoat man got off and follow him to …to who knows where. On June 21 raincoat man exited the D train car with me not too far behind him. He ambled along past Cookies Kids Department Store and then stopped in front of Kings Theatre then moved on and then turned down a side street where 2 blocks later there stood 味香園餅屋 the W&Y Bakery Inc. The sign in the window of the bakery said Wholesale and Retail. We specialize in baking the finest Chinese cakes for all occasions. Our fortunate cookies have been voted the best in New York.
Raincoat man opened the front door and walked in. While the door remained open I could see that raincoat man wasn’t a customer since he moved past the counter of the store and through a door behind it. Employee? I decided to go in and find out more. From in front of the counter I could see through the window of the door that led to the back of the bakery. Raincoat man had removed and hung up his raincoat and hat and then sat on a high chair in front of a long table covered with unbaked fortunate cookies. He sat in front of a computer that seemed to generate masses of fortune cookie messages which he inserted into the cookies before they would be baked. I got it. Incredible. So, raincoat man was a professional fortunate cookie message generator. I turned and left the bakery barely able to suppress my laughter. But it still did not add up. Nothing does.