THE SAW

I tightly wrap my scarf around my neck as I wait to head off to work. A tall man slides into the seat next to me and carefully places his tool box at his feet. Seemingly, his toolbox is not able to accommodate all of his tools and so he gently places his saw against the seat in front of him. That’s the problem with a saw. It’s not easy to pack up or fold away and so all you can do is carry it at the handle like a suitcase. Yes, that’s right… a saw.
Part of me is pleased to see that people are getting up, going to work and providing for their families in this economy. Really, it’s great. However, I’ll be honest with you. There is something very disconcerting about sitting next to a stranger who’s carrying a saw.
When you sit next to a stranger carrying a saw, you mind tends to, well …“soar” into all the murky forests of your imagination.
“Why would a guy walk around with a saw?”
“Where is he going?”
“Where has he been?”
“Should I change seats?”
I take a moment to step out of my prejudices, I wonder, why should this be disconcerting? After all, it could be vital to his profession. I am a writer- I carry a notebook. My cousin is a police officer- she carries a fire arm. Perhaps he is a builder or a carpenter – so, he carries a saw. 
I start to anxiously look around for some sort of back up, the taxi starts and the vibrations cause the saw to dislodge itself from its location. The man catches the saw as it falls. He turns to us and says: “Oh, maybe I should hold it tighter”.
I incredulously nod and whisper: “yeah, maybe”.
I shake my head and look around for back up. It must be common place to walk around with a saw because I am seemingly the only person looking distressed.  “Hello, people? Do you not see that this guy is carrying a saw?”  They’re all in their own world or merely concentrating on keeping warm.
OR
Maybe my first thought that there is something very disconcerting about sitting next to a stranger who’s carrying a saw hold true.
You’ve seen the movie.
It’s a cold winter’s morning.
You’ve heard the screams.
A taxi filled with people their blank zombie like expressions clearly evident.
You know the tension.
A man carrying a saw.
One lone woman unaffected by the trance
A man carrying a saw… A saw.
The taxi roughly drives over a speed bump, jolting me out of the murky forest of my imagination. I look down and see the saw. Cold, sharp but held safely away from other passengers. I take a deep breath and quiet the madness in my mind by gently reminding myself that Jesus was a carpenter!
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