THE STRANGER

by Unknown Author

Originally appearing in Love Diary comics #28 in 1963.

Jim Lauer, Special Patrolman, made his rounds of the east waiting room in Grand Terminal. It was his duty to spot any pickpocket or grifter. The last so-called person is the man who comes up to you and softly says in a pleading tone of voice, "Can you spare a dime for a cup of coffee, mister?"

In addition, Jim Lauer had to be alert for any other situation that might arise. He walked the length of the east waiting room and greeted Bob Frazier, in charge of the newsstand.

"What a rotten night this is! It's raining cats and dogs outside."

"But it isn't raining in here," grinned Bob Frazier. "Which reminds me. I'm getting those two tickets for the ball game. So we both go Wednesday afternoon."

"You bet,' smiled the Special Patrolman. "I want to see Lou Sibley pitch a shut-out game."

Then he turned to the other end of the waiting room. It was almost deserted at this time of the night. His keen eyes spotted a well-dressed young girl. It was evident she had been crying. He sized up the situation at once. Then he quickened his pace and soon was at the desk of the Traveler's Guidance Bureau.

"A nice girl in the waiting room," he told Gene Pearson, who was at the desk. "Not the kind of tears when you are ill or broke. Looks like something of the heart, we better help her."

So young Gene Pearson left the desk and followed Jim Lauer back to the waiting room. There she was dressed in rather expensive clothes. Her pale blue eyes had certainly been shedding a lot of tears. There was a slight dimple on her left cheek. She had small thin lips.

"I represent the Traveler's Guidance Bureau," began the young man. "Is there anything we can do to help you? If you want to contact somebody, we do it for you. If you happen to be temporarily short of change, we will lend you sufficient money to take you to your destination. Or, if you are ill, we will see you get good medical care. Can we please help you?"

The young girl looked at the young man. Whatever it was that she wanted to say just didn't come out that way from her lips.

"Go away, please, and leave me alone," was what she told him instead.

But it had no effect. For he knew how to handle the situation. From his pocket, he took out a fresh, clean handkerchief.

"At least accept the handkerchief as a gift," he suggested. "The one you are using is just wet with your tears. Dry your eyes, and then we can go over to the Terminal Cafeteria and have a cup of coffee together."

She was sorry for what she had said. She knew it wasn't like her to react that way. She took the handkerchief and tried to force a slight smile on her face.

"I shouldn't have acted that way," she apologized. "Can I use that old excuse about being upset? Will you forgive my rudeness?"

"Of course," replied Gene Pearson. "Provided we have that cup of coffee together."

She walked with him to the Terminal Cafeteria, and Jim Lauer went on his rounds. Nothing exciting or unusual was happening. He wouldn't have to tell his wife anything because these were just routine matters. Not like the night, they caught Slim Cooper when he tried to make his get-away.

Gene Pearson and the charming young girl each sat down on a stool. The attendant came over to them.

"Whatcha want?" he asked.

"Two coffees," replied Gene Pearson and then turned to the young girl.

"Half milk, cream, or straight?"

"With cream," she told him.

Their coffees were served, and Gene waited until she had tasted some of it before he asked the question.

"What made you run away from home?"

"I don't think that would apply to me," she said softly, "I am just over twenty-one—so legally, I just left home."

"What was the argument about?" he continued as though ignoring her fine distinction.

Sometimes in life, we feel much better when we talk about the problems bothering us. We find that what looked so important at first can turn out to be something just insignificant. So something inside of her told her:

"Go ahead. You can trust him. He will give you a sympathetic ear."

"I don't think I would come under the heading of being unattractive," she began. "And like any other girl I want to meet a young man—on my own! I resent family attempts to bring people together. It started three days ago at breakfast. Mother mentioned something about her old college chum. She was inviting her for the weekend—with her young son. Wouldn't it be wonderful? If we were to fall in love and get married?"

Dad didn't say a word. He just listened and agreed with whatever mother suggested. I sort of felt he wanted to tell her it was a lot of nonsense. I do have plenty of dates, but at present, I am not going seriously with any one guy. Maybe I shouldn't have said it, but it sort of irked me. So I told mother just where did she think we were living? In some Oriental country where the parents made all the wedding arrangements? Where love didn't count at all?

So one word led to another. And then we had a couple of arguments over it. Dad got me alone and suggested that I meet the young man and be civil. Meeting him didn't mean I was going to marry him. Well, I got angrier, So I left home if that's the way you want to put it. But I won't starve."

She opened her pocketbook and showed him a checkbook and a roll of large denomination bills.

"My Aunt Martha left me a lot of money, and I get the income each year. So I won't go back home."

"Yes, you will," he asserted. "Because I don't think you are the foolish kind of a girl that others might be. There is some sense in that pretty head of yours. After all, bear one thing in mind: Parents want to do their best for their children. So you meet the young man. That would make mother happy. Did it ever dawn on you that the young man concerned might be in love with somebody else? Everything will work out fine, believe me."

She didn't say anything for a few minutes and then she started to laugh. He looked at her and felt his heart skip a beat or two.

"I guess I was silly," she admitted. "I'll take the next train home."

They talked about a lot of things and then she left him and purchased her ticket. He watched her board the train and waved farewell to her. It was only when the train pulled out that he remembered something:

"He didn't even know her name!"

In fact, on his report sheet, he would have to use the old familiar designation, "Miss X." He had an impulse to go to the ticket seller and find out her destination, for there was that certain something about her. He just could not put his finger on it. But she was the kind of a girl he wanted to meet again. So sadly, he went back to his desk and made out form 63a.

All was peace and contentment in the Appert household. Dorothy Appert looked radiantly beautiful in her gown. The car had pulled up to the house entrance, and the butler was soon going to bring in the two guests.

"She's a stickler for formalities," admitted Mrs. Helen Appert. "So this meeting will be cold and formal. She wasn't that way when we were at college together. But being one of the top ten in the Blue Blood Social Register has affected her. Here we go, and I want you to know how happy I am that you listened to me. I love you, Dorothy, and like any other mother, I want you to meet the right man."

Mother and daughter came down the stairs together. Facing them was mother and son. The daughter looked at the son. Son looked at daughter. Then the daughter rushed to the son. Son rushed to daughter. Two surprised mothers watched their children hug and kiss each other. Where were the formalities of an introduction? In fact, who cared?

Jim Lauer was having his morning breakfast after his round at Grand Terminal. He had news to tell his wife, Sadie.

"Remember that young millionaire who took the job to be helpful? Gene Pearson is his name—a young lawyer with a great social background. What do you think? He is going to marry the girl he met at the station. I guess I get all the credit for it."

"Better drink your coffee before it gets cold," suggested his wife. "I have something to tell you. We received an invitation to that wedding. They are even going to send a car for us."

END