Was It Supposed to be Worse?

My mother’s time lapse between telling me sorrowfully about London’s tube terror attacks this morning and saying, “At least when you were in New Zealand, I never once worried,” lasted approximately fifty-three minutes. It was the first thing that crossed my mind; the fact that, in an alternate universe or perhaps under very slightly different circumstances, I could have, would have been living in London this Spring, ridden the subway every day, known friends and a home in that old, imperial city.

As they continue to update the death toll and injury counts I find myself thinking, at least it isn’t September 11th, with the shower of soot and ashes raining down as if from clouds of fire, blackening the streets as confusion and fear darted across Manhattan. And even then, when mobile phone systems were shut down in case terrorists used phones to set off their bombs, we all knew the unspoken reason: in case there are more traps set. Hidden and waiting for the perfect moment to go off because ‘surprise! It’s not over yet.’ There is the thought, could it have been worse? Was it supposed to be worse? Were the streets of London meant to be swarmed with even more panicked people running for their lives?

And for the people who did run, for anyone who gasped for fresh air in the smoky arteries of London’s transportation system and wondered if they would be able to escape, it doesn’t get any worse. Every passenger has a new phobia. They will hesitate to cross the gap and flinch when the doors shudder closed. Would-be passengers chill when they realize, “I was supposed to be on that train.”

It frightens me that we live in a time when there is a “classic Al Qaeda” As if practiced, method terror is just like a barbeque with “classic summer food,” or a cheesy romantic movie with a “classic fairytale ending.”