— “I have a small child, where are we supposed to climb!?” Anna’s voice, a young woman with a tired face, sounded sharp, yet also carried a note of desperation.
— “And you suggest an old woman like me climb up there?!” Tatiana Arkadievna’s voice, dry and categorical, cut through the stuffiness of the train car like a knife. — “Where are your manners? We respected the elderly when we were young!”
— “Your ticket is for the upper bunk,” Anna tried to speak more calmly, but her eyes flashed angrily. — “And this one is mine! I bought it specifically so it would be comfortable for the child.”
Tatiana Arkadievna snorted and turned her gaze to the window. Around them, an involuntary circle of spectators began to form: passengers from nearby seats moved closer, pretending to be suddenly interested in their open bags.
— “Listen, can’t you come to some agreement?” a thin man from the upper bunk opposite could not hold back. — “It’s so hot here, can hardly breathe. Let’s calm down.”
— “Easy for you to say when you’re up top and not bothering anyone,” Anna muttered, casting a quick, sharp glance at the man. Her five-year-old son Misha fidgeted on the bunk, trying to reach a stuffed teddy bear from the corner.
— “Exactly!” Tatiana Arkadievna agreed. — “Youth today have no shame. They come here, and no respect at all!”
— “It’s you who have no respect,” Anna interrupted, unable to hold back. — “Sat down without even asking, though you knew it was my place! And you still have complaints!”
The noisy hum of the train seemed to intensify from the tense atmosphere. The man from the upper bunk, sighing, turned away, clearly deciding not to interfere anymore. Women from the side bunks whispered, occasionally glancing at the arguing pair.
— “Lady, can’t you just give up the spot?” suddenly a voice from an elderly woman in a colorful robe from the neighboring cabin spoke up. — “You have a child, yes, but he is small, he can go on top. Let him play there, he would find it interesting anyway.”
Anna froze, disbelieving her ears.
— “Small?” she asked, struggling to suppress her indignation. — “He’s five years old! Can you imagine how he’ll climb up there, especially in this heat?”
— “Nothing will happen to him, we managed somehow,” another passenger with a short haircut intervened, wiping her face with a handkerchief. — “You just need to be more accommodating.”
Anna felt her cheeks flush. She sighed heavily, got up from the bunk, and glanced at Misha.
— “Stay here, okay?” she said more softly than usual. — “Mish, I’ll be back soon.”
The boy nodded, his eyes becoming anxious.
Anna went to the restroom to wash her face, navigating through strangers’ bags and bare feet. In the relative silence, she leaned against the cold metal rail, feeling her irritation gradually replaced by exhaustion.
Behind her, muffled snippets of conversations still reached her ears.
— “Such impudence these days…” — that was clearly Tatiana Arkadievna.
Anna closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. Her hand reached for her pocket, but she had left her phone with Misha. “Hold on,” she mentally told herself. “Just need to make it until morning.”
The gentle swaying of the train and the hum of its wheels seemed to lull the carriage, but the stuffiness and tension only grew.
Anna, returning from the vestibule, found Misha in the same place she had left him. He held his teddy bear, intently examining the toy’s worn nose. Seeing his mother, he slightly shrugged his shoulders as if trying not to attract unnecessary attention.
— “Mom, why were you gone so long?” he whispered.
— “Line for the restroom, son,” Anna quietly replied and sat next to him.
But she couldn’t sit peacefully. Tatiana Arkadievna immediately spoke up, clearly addressing her words not so much to Anna as to those around:
— “Oh, the times we live in… What’s with the youth today? No shame, no conscience. Here I am, an elderly woman, can’t even stand on my feet, and she doesn’t care. Just so she’s comfortable. And the child… the child probably doesn’t understand anything!”
Anna sighed, turning to the elderly neighbor.
— “What do you want from me? The entire trip is nothing but stress for me.”
Tatiana Arkadievna straightened up, adjusting a stray gray hair strand.
— “Really? Well, of course, it’s all the same to me,” she declared, sarcastically stretching the words. — “Is that why you turned it around. As if I’m traveling to Krasnodar to visit my daughter, and I have to endure two more days of this, that’s uninteresting to you, right?”
Anna irritably rubbed her forehead. She just couldn’t shake off the accumulated fatigue. Her journey started with Misha being fussy, refusing to get on the train.
She had to drag the bags, struggling to find their place, only to see Tatiana Arkadievna comfortably settled with a magazine on their bunk.
The neighbor, a woman in her forties with a short haircut, joined the conversation, smiling with a clear note of malice:
— “Oh, girls, why don’t you just share? Is it really worth arguing over a bunk?”
— “Bunk or no bunk,” Anna retorted, turning sharply to her. — “Everyone has their own place by ticket. Or do you also think I owe everyone?”
— “Come on, nobody thinks that. Sometimes it’s easier to give in than to argue,” the woman shrugged. — “And what about the child? He’ll sleep anywhere. Mine could even sleep on the floor, they didn’t care.”
Her son tugged at Anna’s hand.
— “Mom, I don’t want to go up top,” he whispered. — “I’m scared up there…”
— “No one will make you,” Anna firmly replied, looking directly into her son’s eyes.
— “Oh, this generation,” Tatiana Arkadievna shook her head. — “Everything scares them, everything is uncomfortable. I had three children when I was young, and look, they’re all alive and well!”
Anna felt anger welling up but swallowed it. Breathing deeper, she tried to focus.
— “You know, it’s not easy in our family either,” she began, trying to speak evenly. — “My husband is in another city, working so that Mishka and I could go to the sea for the first time.”
I saved up for these tickets, calculated every penny. I bought the lower bunk specifically for convenience. You just took it. And now you have the audacity to make me the guilty one?
Tatiana Arkadievna raised her eyebrows but didn’t get a chance to respond — a man from the next cabin interjected:
— “Can you just stop already! It’s hot, stuffy, and you’ve caused a commotion! Honestly, it’s annoying to everyone.”
— “Yes, it’s annoying!” a young girl with headphones chimed in. — “Grandma, your ticket is for the upper bunk, why are you insisting?”
— “Who are you calling grandma?!” Tatiana Arkadievna exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. — “How do you speak to your elders?!”
Misha cringed, clutching his teddy bear tighter.
Anna stood up wearily.
— “That’s it, I’m going to the vestibule. I’ve had enough.”
Returning from the vestibule, Anna felt a bit calmer. Her face was damp from the water she used to wash it, and her palms were still trembling with anger.
She knew the dispute wouldn’t go away, but she couldn’t stand it any longer. Misha was still sitting on the bunk, clutching his teddy bear.
As soon as Anna returned, Tatiana Arkadievna immediately threw a remark at her, unable to restrain herself:
— “Finally! And here I thought you were running around the carriage. You’d better sit with your child, not wander through the vestibule!”
— “Listen, just stop, okay?” Anna sharply raised her head, her voice firm. — “Do you even understand that everyone has their place by ticket? This is my bunk. I paid for it. Yours is the upper one. That’s it. End of discussion.”
— “What kind of person are you, huh?” Tatiana Arkadievna threw her hands up, theatrically looking around at the passengers. — “Young, healthy, but no respect! Couldn’t you at least give it up out of politeness? I’m not going to bite you.”
— “You’re not exactly shining with politeness yourself!” Anna snapped back. — “No ‘sorry,’ nothing! Just took it and sat down. And now you’re blaming me.”
Passengers around them began whispering again. The man from the upper bunk peeked out, yawning tiredly:
— “How long can this go on! Maybe we should call the conductor? She’ll surely decide.”
— “Call even the train manager if you want,” Tatiana Arkadievna dismissed. — “I’m still right no matter what.”
As if hearing a magic word, the conductor appeared in the aisle. The young woman in a strict uniform looked around the carriage with noticeable displeasure.
— “What’s the noise about again?” she asked sternly. — “This is the third complaint from neighboring cabins. Who’s the main character here?”
— “It’s them!” two passengers shouted in unison, pointing at Tatiana Arkadievna and Anna.
— “Me? What have I done!” Tatiana Arkadievna protested immediately. — “It’s her, the young one, causing all the fuss. She wouldn’t give up the lower bunk, so I’m upset. Can you treat the elderly this way?”
The conductor turned her head towards Anna, who stood with her arms crossed.
— “Everyone has their own place by ticket?” she clarified.
— “Yes,” Anna nodded. — “Hers is the upper. Mine is the lower. We’ve been arguing for two hours.”
The conductor sighed heavily, as if this were not her first such case.
— “Alright, lady, let’s see your ticket,” she extended her hand.
— “Here, here it is!” Tatiana Arkadievna reluctantly took out the ticket from her pocket.
The conductor glanced at it briefly and, nodding, handed it back.
— “Upper bunk is yours. That’s correct. Why are you sitting in someone else’s spot?”
— “Well, why? — Tatiana Arkadievna waved her arms, offended. — “It’s hard for me to climb up. I’m old, can’t you make an exception?”
— “And how many times have you traveled before?” the conductor asked, arms folded.
— “Well… before, yes, up top,” Tatiana Arkadievna muttered reluctantly.
— “Let’s go then,” the conductor cut her off sternly. — “Everyone to their own place. The mother with a child won’t move from the lower bunk, clear? Or shall I call the train manager?”
Tatiana Arkadievna abruptly fell silent, her face turning crimson. Passengers around them quietly applauded, someone approvingly grunted. Anna felt her shoulders relax.
— “Alright then,” grumbled the elderly woman, getting up. — “Today’s youth is just terrible. No respect, no sympathy.”
She grasped the handrail, slowly and with evident reluctance began to climb to the upper bunk. The man opposite helped her, offering his hand. Once she was finally settled, the carriage briefly fell silent.
— “Thank you,” Anna said quietly to the conductor.
— “You’re welcome,” she smiled slightly. — “Just no more fighting, alright? And calm the child down.”
Anna returned to her place, where Misha looked at her with relief. She hugged him and whispered:
— “All set, baby, now we can travel in peace.”
Misha nodded, pressing against her.
The dispute was over, but Anna still felt the aftertaste. She looked out the window at the passing fields and thought about how important it is sometimes to stand your ground, even when it’s difficult.