The teenager ceased chewing his bubble gum, left his mouth open, and giggled as if he had just been tickled. His girlfriend giggled, too. Although her hair was fuchsia and her chains smaller, her appearance mirrored her boyfriend’s right down to the gum chewing. They were holding hands. The teen leaned toward Danny, turned his ear to him, and shook the chain.

“This is my lucky charm.” He grinned. “You should get one.”

The girl playfully grabbed her boyfriend’s groin, pouting and asking Danny, “And what’s this?”

It was called a PEE-nus. Danny knew because his mother answered the same question for him one night when he was in the tub. He’d forgotten the word, but he clearly recalled the function.

“Do you have to pee?” Danny asked, triggering the couple’s laughter as they stood to leave.

The train was slowing. Danny was bumped from behind, nearly knocked off his feet. He was trapped in a forest of legs. The automated public address barked the station’s name. Danny tried to return to his dad, but was blocked by a skateboard, shopping bags, a briefcase, a knapsack. People crushed together, inching him closer to the doors. He panicked, clenched his tiny hands into fists, and pounded on arms and legs, but couldn’t break free. The train stopped. The doors whooshed open. Danny was pushed out of the car with the crowd, crying out for his father as he tripped, falling hard onto the cold, grimy, concrete platform. People swirled about him, drowning him. A ghetto blaster throbbed with a menacing beat. No one could hear Danny crying. Frantic, he struggled to get to his feet. A cigarette butt stuck to his hand. He pinballed from one grownup to the next. Disoriented, his only thought was to get back on the train. He heard the warning chime.

Get back on the train! Get back on the train! Get back!

Danny felt a pair of large, strong hands lift him.

Nathan heard the chime, lowered the newspaper, and turned to Danny beside him. Gone. Damn that little--He threw the paper down, threading his way from one end of the car to the next looking between seats for Danny. What the hell--? He can’t be gone.

He can’t be gone!

The driver’s whistle bleated again. Nathan’s pulse quickened. He ran to the end of the car again, pushing people from his path, searching underneath every seat.

“Hey, buddy!”

“Jeez, pal--”

“M-my son, Danny...I’m looking for my little boy, he’s ...”

The doors closed and the train jerked forward.

“No! Wait!” Nathan yelled for the train to halt.

The train gained momentum.

Where is my son?

Bile rushed up the back of his throat. Gooseflesh rose on his skin. Through the window, on the platform, he saw Danny in the arms of a stranger disappearing into the crowd.