Wandering Thoughts

I was fucked. Every 4 letter word raced through my mind. I had arrived in Pisa, backpacking gear in tow, for a brief visit to take the requisite “I’m holding up the tower” picture. I now had 25 minutes left before I needed to catch a train to Rome in order to fly home.
After hamming it up in the pictures, coupled with a peek into the gift shop, my time in Pisa was coming to a close a little too quickly. Which is why I panicked when I realized my train was going to leave the station without me. I did the math; it had taken me about 30 minutes to walk to the tower and I had less than that to make it back. There was only one option.
In Italy, no one runs. Women wear high heels and men favor loafers to Nikes. So it came as no surprise that everyone on the street stopped to stare at me. There I was, an American tourist running down the street. With a huge backpack.
When I finally made it to the train station, I had less than 10 minutes to buy my train ticket and find the platform. After buying my ticket, I searched the timetable for the matching platform but I couldn’t find it.
“Binario Roma?” I asked passerbys but they all shook their heads.
A black man, dressed in a colorful ethic dress, overheard me.
“Ticket?” He asked in a thick accent.
I reluctantly showed it to him, holding my bag tighter in case he was a pickpocket.
He looked at the timetable.
“It’s not up there,” he said.
“Don’t you think I already know that?” I wanted to shout but I just nodded. I had missed the train and was probably going to be robbed by this man. Suddenly, I realized how badly I missed home. Except I was going to miss my flight and I didn’t have any money or travel insurance to get another one.
The man reached for the ticket again and I let him take it, thinking it wouldn’t matter if he stole it.
Then, he smiled, “Miss, this ticket is for 4:15. It is only 4:05. Keep watching the screen.”
Less than a minute later, the timetable showed my train. “There it is!” I exclaimed to my hero but I was standing alone.
I managed to find the train and sank into my seat with many unanswered questions in my mind. I wondered how I could have been mistaken unless perhaps I was so sleep deprived I had misread the original time. Or maybe the explanation was more Divine. The man who I misjudged as a thief, turned out to be my angel and I never even thanked him. Tears of sadness and relief fell down my face as the train pulled away. I was finally going home.