A woman was robbed on the subway tonight

A woman was robbed on the subway tonight.

I’ve seldom felt so ineffectual.

It happened fast.

That’s how the story always begins, isn’t it?

But I always thought…hoped…that I could think or move faster. I couldn’t.

I heard the yell behind me, “HEY!”

I turned and he was already rushing past me. In a flash I saw who he was, I saw the blue package tucked under his arm, and I saw the woman falling to the floor at the door of the subway train behind us.

I put it together.

In a flash I considered my role. But by then, he was several yards ahead and then he was at the turnstiles and then he was through. Another man came by running after him.

I hadn’t even moved.

I didn’t yell after him. I didn’t stick my foot or bag out to trip him. I didn’t do anything but watch.

The woman moved past me to follow. The train conductor had sounded an alarm but then he moved on. The train doors closed and the station was empty.

I moved through the turnstile after the woman. I told the station agent in the booth and I moved up the stairs onto the street. I ran after her. She was out of breath, she was in shock, she was pregnant.

The man who had run after the robber was nowhere to be seen. We waited on the street. I asked how she was. Could I get her anything. Could I call the police. She didn’t think it was worth it. Nothing they could do. I told her I had seen the man, I could describe him, we could at least make a report with the MTA. She was hesitant. She was shocked. Nothing like this had ever happened to her. She said maybe it was just her time.

We waited. I walked up the street and back. The runner hadn’t returned. I tried again to encourage her to report but she didn’t think it would matter. It wasn’t her purse, wasn’t her ID or credit cards. An iPad. Expensive, but replaceable. She had a train to catch at Penn Station.

We were both hesitant. Did I give her my name, phone number? Would she want to report later and I could give a physical description? I didn’t. I don’t even know her name. We parted ways, she back to the subway and me toward home. I looked at every tall man I passed. I looked for police cruisers. I looked for the man who had run after him. I wanted to go back, to make a report, to make sure the woman was really alright – or as much as she could be.

It seems so wrong that there was nothing we could really do.

A woman was robbed on the subway tonight. I imagine she wasn’t the only one.