The Train, It's Coming
By: Haley Pak
The woman entered the train station at 3:00 pm. She sat under the clock, opened a novel from her handbag, scanned the empty space anxiously wondering where everybody had gone.
At 3:10, a man entered carrying a garment bag over his shoulder. He didn’t seem particularly perplexed by the deserted state of the station as he hummed to himself and took up an abandoned newspaper on a bench.
When she peered over the top of her book she amused herself by noting the overbearing formality of his outfit: a fitted suit with coattails, gloves, and a bowtie. A top hat perched crookedly on his head, and… were those ruffles? She averted her eyes to the warped words trying to ignore the pounding weight of the clock above; she read the same sentence three times without remembering what it was. Uneasy, she paced, away from the heavy clock, then drew back unable to separate from the silent tick tick tick.
She had been told to meet at 3:45, and regretted arriving so early. The quiet was unsettling but inconsequential, the chill unwelcome yet tolerable, but the blood pumping in her ears... the hairs standing on her neck… the open empty space with the creeping unbearable passage of time… Why were there no trains why were there no people? The woman watched the man, more precisely, watched the old garment bag draped over his chair which she abruptly noticed, had shuddered very slightly.
“Sir.”
No response.
“Sir,” she called just a little louder on the toes of her heels.
He looked up, suddenly and eagerly.
“Your laundry appears to be dancing.”
“Ah.” he cocked his top hat at her, then unceremoniously sat on the bag which flopped underneath his weight like a pinned fish. He shrugged, continued to read the paper.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what on earth do you have in there?”
“A very impatient passenger who, annoyingly, has contracted a minor bout of claustrophobia.” He poked at the wriggling material. “Come now you have some dignity.”
“You mean there’s a person in there?”
“Well- hm. No. No I suppose not.” He laughed to himself.
“Is it a prop then? For your tricks?”
“Tricks?”
“Your attire. I can only assume you’re a magician? Or a performer?”
At this he glanced down, seemingly in surprise, at his overpoweringly formal suit.
“No actually! Although I do thank you for asking in such a tactful manner I, personally, would have simply judged from afar and not said anything. ‘What a frightfully slow fellow, he’s in the wrong century!’ Or, ‘Perhaps he is on his way to a stiff dinner party with tiny unsatisfying food morsels on platters and small talk with no purpose, painfully aware that he overdressed.’”
She smiled. “What business do you have here then?”
He crumpled the paper he had been so voraciously reading only a moment ago and tossed it behind him, grinning widely.
“I’m actually here to intervene.” He shrugged. “You see, you are about to make a terrible mistake and I’m simply here to prevent it.”
“Me?”
At this, the garment bag gave an enormous heave, toppling the man to the ground. It shuddered violently, and the woman distinctly heard a muffled voice from within. She backed away. Grumbling, and very reluctantly, the man crawled on his knees and unzipped the bag, revealing nothing at all within. It was empty.
“Nothing to see right?” he suggested quiveringly.
“Nothing? Nothing? I exist thank you very much!” a voice suddenly cried, shrilly and in much distress.
The woman spun in surprise, but the station was still empty except for her and the strange man who was in process of cowering behind a decorative plant.
“I’ve had just enough with you!” the voice shrieked. The magician flinched to empty air.
“I’m not a person? I’m just a prop? Is that what I am now? Do you understand how stale it was in there? I couldn’t breathe!”
He smiled coyly. “You don’t need to.”
“That’s uncalled for and you know it. Stuffing me in a bag- I’ve never been so insulted! And sitting on me? Really? Do you have any idea how debasing that is?”
With cowering posture yet a simultaneous mischievous countenance, the man turned to the woman, who stood more relieved that her boredom had been cured than anything else.
“I have unleashed great evil on this world. All will tremble under the rage of the undead, the absolute terrible might of this phantom I kept conveniently with my dry cleaning-” he mocked.
“Oh stop being dramatic. He’s just trying to scare you you know.” the voice addressed the woman. “I’m very much alive.” A sudden gust of wind- a breath- drafted over the woman and she blinked a few times. The realization hit only a second later- that a voice, a wind, a presence without body was before her.
“Is this a trick? Or are you a ghost?”
An exasperated sigh, then; “Must I repeat myself. A ghost must suffer the consequences of a finished life and I am most definitely not finished.”
The magician moved out from his hiding space, standing with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his temples. “I thought we discussed that a disembodied voice tends to unsettle more than it assuages. You were supposed to wait.”
“That conversation happened AFTER you stuffed me in AN AIRTIGHT SACK. LIKE A CORPSE.”
The woman glanced anxiously at the clock. 3:20.
“I hate to intrude on- your private matters- but may we please retreat to that portion of the conversation where I supposedly make a ‘terrible mistake’ and you prevent it?”
The magician gestured to the woman’s handbag.
“Absolutely! You have no idea how horribly your life is about to fall. May I see your book please?”
“My book?” She handed it to him, albeit hesitantly.
“A History of Travels,” he said grandly, then flipped through. “Ah, how existentially awful.” He giggled and handed it back to her.
She peered at the pages. Hadn’t it been informational? Something educational, conventional, dull? Yet no in fact it was the same sentence over and over. It was the same sentence over and over. It was the same sentence over and over.
“Why didn’t I notice this?” she flipped to the last page. Not even a ‘the end.’
“Because you’re so caught from one moment to the next. You didn’t notice the cycle you’re trapped in.”
He glanced appreciatively at the cover.
“ A History of Travels eh? Where do you intend on travelling to?”
“Nowhere actually, I’m just here to meet someone. His train comes in at 3:45.”
“Naturally naturally, now what if we told you that at precisely 3:30,” he gestured to the clock. “An eastbound train comes in that you must urgently board with this ticket.” He held it up.
“And obviously you must never return and certainly never see that person you’re meeting again,” the voice said.
“How dare you! It’s none of your business who I meet or where I go.” The woman held up her head, scowling at the strange man who only looked sadly at her.
“To add more exposition, trust us when we say it is not in your best interests to meet this particular passenger. In fact, it’s… putting it lightly going to ruin your short life and destroy you painfully. We assure you.”
“How can you possibly think I’ll take the words of someone I can’t see and a madman seriously. This is some trick isn’t it? You magician, you’re one of those odd people who can change your voice and throw it correct? I will call a harassment charge you see if I don’t.” She threw up her hands. “And where is everybody?!”
“They’re all very much here, it is you who are the dreamer ma’am.” the magician explained patiently. “For example, you require glasses do you not?”
She spluttered. “I-well-yes but-how did you know that?”
“You require glasses yet you do not wear them. Why is that?”
“He...” she gestured vaguely to the train tracks. “Gets angry if I wear them. But you see it’s perfectly understandable! They’re not exactly flattering… and he has an image to protect…”
She paused. “He refuses to pay for them.”
“Then why not pay for them yourself?”
“He’ll be furious if I got a job on my own… it’s perfectly understandable it’s quite insulting when you… think about it.” She trailed off. “What is there for me to see anyways?”
“When he arrives what are planning to do?”
“Take him home of course. He’s been gone for a long while. And… live our lives.”
“What of friends? Do you not have people to come wait with you?”
“He needs me so I’ve had to remove many extraneous relationships. You see it’s… perfectly understandable.”
The magician nodded.
“Hm. Well. The last thing I wish is to insult your life choices so I won’t. But at least try these on.” And he handed her a pair of glasses.
“Sir, I shouldn’t.”
“Well despite your apprehension you have plenty of time. It won’t hurt you to indulge in sight for a minute.”
Hesitantly, she placed them on. The clock, the station, the tracks, everything passed into sharp lines and she saw clearly for the first time in ages. Then shadows crossed her vision and she saw as if through moving haze.
“I don’t think these work sir,” but the magician was suddenly nowhere to be found. The shadows only grew denser spilling, overlapping, obscuring her line of sight. Strange, they seemed to be forming shapes… growing more solid, more clear. A coat there. An arm. A briefcase, legs, skirts, hats and noses. A second later the station, which had been completely empty, was suddenly crowded with hundreds of people.
Where she had been sitting previously, now sat a mother hugging a toddler in her lap. Under the clock stood a group of businessmen comparing paperwork. Men, women, children, rushing, waiting, laughing, crying, bored, busy they all existed. Then the noise crashed like a wave. The sound of hundreds of conversations happening all at once, the clatter of rushing feet, the crackling incoherent intercom. Where previously it had been silent, too silent, it was now extraordinarily loud with humanity.
“Hello ma’am, may I help you?”
She spun and saw a uniformed porter. The magician. Except it wasn't quite him, just a man with his voice and a more subdued wardrobe.
“I well- what’s going on?”
“The evening trains are coming in ma’am. It’s been quite busy. Do you need assistance with your schedule?”
“Sir what did you do? What’s happening?”
The porter reached out in concern. “Are you alright ma’am?”
She reached up and wrenched off the glasses but though all fell into blurs, the rushing bodies and noise still existed.
“I’m afraid you’re not making much sense ma’am. Perhaps you should sit down. Would you like some water?”
“No thank you… something strange is happening. We were talking just a moment ago!” She was still holding the book. She ripped through it, read:
“Although many prefer getaways to the tropical climates of the Polynesian islands, the extraordinary variety in marine wildlife offers a-”
Substantial, interesting even. Not the same sentence.
“Ma’am, do you have a ticket?”
“No I-” but what was this in her hand?
“Ah yes.” the porter examined it.
“The eastbound train should be coming in any time now. Where are you planning to go?”
“I’m not… planning anything. I haven’t planned anything in a long time.”
“Well maybe it’s about time you do.” He winked.
“I can’t. I’m waiting for someone. I thought we’d already discussed this.”
“I hate to make assumptions ma’am but it seems you’ve waited for a good long while. Perhaps it’s time to say yes, yes? You have legs to carry you and hopefully some good sense.”
Lights at the end of the tunnel, and the train slid smoothly to a stop roaring and carrying a draft that sent paper whipping about the terminal.
“Here we are. Will you be boarding?”
“Of course not, how can I? He’d find me somehow. I can’t just leave.”
The porter sighed. “It sure is a shame to waste a good ticket. These are opportunities you know.”
“Believe me, I would love to use it. It’s just…” She couldn't think of what to say next. It was such a relief to see clearly wasn’t it? To think clearly? There were so many people. So many lives. Why had she been alone this whole time? Waiting, sinking, giving in. Giving. In such silence too.
“Am I dreaming?”
“You have been. For a long while. You can leave too, but that’s a choice.”
“I don’t have any luggage.”
Someone tapped her shoulder. “Here take mine.” The voice was familiar but the girl behind her wasn’t. “You can see me now yes?” The previously disembodied voice handed her a small suitcase and a garment bag. “Essentials. And a nice dress. Everyone should have something nice to wear.”
The porter rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement.
The woman smiled. “Thank you. It’s been quiet for so long.”
“Then say yes now and claim that adventure. It’ll be worth it. Now let us help you find your seat.”