It was only a little while after September 11th that fareful year.  People were bundled up in black clothing.  Train stations were being patrolled by security with big guns.  She'd tugged my sleeve.  I'd closed my gaping-in-disbelief mouth as I sank onto a bench to sit on next to her.  "Had my back, huh?!" I sighed some.  "Did but,"

     "Why'd I end up strapped to an armchair and sinking in a water fountain?"  A little laugh at the ups and downs of paying attention. 

     "That was a lot longer time ago." 

     "Really can't be buts." 

     "I was eyelevel with the back of those exploding sneakers."

     The train station smelled of coat static and people flash-warming and the screeching of braking not-bullet trains.  A bagel wafting by caught attention.  "Not many buts back then after all that."

     "Like now." 

     "Strapped because wouldn't let go.  And we had to move on.  Was, so"

     "Going Overseas at this time?"

     "Not entirely sure yet.  Ready, always ready to via con Dios."

     "So what?"

     "One of those beyond situation type scenes.  No one was expecting people we'd met Overseas to get tangled up in being uber-commandeered from within our Country."

     "Mmmmmm.  Because 'democracy'."

     "Wretched word sometimes."

     The schedule flickered on the boards.  "I better check that."

     When I turned around, she was gone.  Sucked up in the waves of defense.