Derek Zimmer's strange encounter at the train station

The train station had been deserted for some time now. One of the light’s flickered on occasion and the odd car would go by, a fox would laugh, an owl will call but other than that all was silent. The train-station was very small and built for this one train line for a train that stopped every half hour. Once it hit around eleven it came and momentarily broke the peace. It crawled out of the darkness like a snake, the light from the cold concrete station reflected of the train’s glossy panels as it slowed down to a halt and the doors opened in up unison.

Everything seemed still again with only the addition of the hum coming from the train. The light flickered and out walked a greying oriental man dressed in what appeared to be a red silken robe, yet subtle in a way to make them look like casual clothes. He clutched tightly at a wicker basket by a leather handle and taking his time getting of the train, let his wispy beard flow like cobwebs in the breeze. He made his way to one of the stations bench’s and sat down. The train remained for a few moment’s like a silent servant until finally, as if it was satisfied that it’s orders had been completed, the train doors closed and it started off again.

Then something else came to disturb the midnight twilight, though not as mightily as the train. It started distant and faint, like a small and urgent dog running up from the distance. The patter of footsteps came round the corner and onto the platform. It was a small, middle aged, stout man in a grey suite, though it was a sickly green-grey in the station light. He may have looked like a typical run of the mill office worker and he was, his name was Derek, Derek Zimmer and he must have been on a call because he was gripping his phone with a frustrated shakiness and he was sweating badly. He told the phone to ‘wait a minute’ and looked around for the train times and searched for the announcement boards. He then realised at last that he had missed the train. He pulled a grumpy face and kicked furiously at the air.

“Goddammit!” he yelled. Goddammit!” his cheeks went red like apples. He yelled something into his phone then put it to his ear: he must have either heard something he didn’t like or nothing at all because he became more infuriated. He started hitting the buttons on his helpless device with a deliberate and forceful poking motion. He put it to his ear again a few times and cursed and poked and cursed again. At last he threw his arms out and smacked his sides as if to say ‘I give up.’

“Train’s huh, when your early their late, when your late their early,” said Derek as he started to calm down.

The old man hummed and turned a faint smile towards him. “How long do you wait?”

“What do you mean?” asked Derek.

“How long for the train?” said the old man.

“As long as your waiting, surely your waiting for the same train as I am no? Otherwise why would you be at this station, damn I need to call Mary and tell her I’m going to be home late” said Derek.

Derek glared out onto the winding tracks and into the darkness then tapped away on his phone. He held it up as if it to lessen the strain on his signal and gave it a little wave and then the phone made a harsh beep sound and Derek’s face dropped. There was no signal. He tried again, typed out a message but it wouldn’t go through. He looked back into the darkness ahead and put the phone back in his pocket.

A few second's of silence went by. Derek loitered, tapping his finger’s and humming to himself to stay amused. He got a brief glance of the old man and gave him a nod but then realised straight away he had his eyes closed. Derek took a step forward, waving his hand and pulling his phone out.

“E-Excuse me,” muttered Derek. “I couldn’t use your phone can I? Mine hasn't got signal here.”

The old man opened his eye’s and locked onto Derek. “Phone?” he said with an odd, grimace tone. He muttered something to himself then laughed a quiet laugh. “I don’t have a phone,” the old man mused.

“Don’t have a phone?” said Derek with a bemused smile, “what sort of self respecting man goes round without his phone?”

The old man chuckled. “They’re useless,” he replied.

“Useless,” Derek said holding his phone to his chest. “Why I can’t stop finding uses for it; It’s kept me hired, I can order things online,” he then held it up and gave it a shake. “It can keep in contact with my family when it’s got signal.” The glowing rectangle in his hand went dark and Derek tapped the screen with a weak, deflated poke. “Or when it’s got enough charge,” he added under his breath.

Now it was the old man who looked much bemused. “Ah I see it is very useful.”

Derek went red again. “It is, in fact, the only thing I don’t use my phone for is to tell the time. I could of course, it my phone hadn't turned of, but that’s the great thing about technology, there’s always more technology to fix it,” he said pointing a proud finger to his watch.

“And do you have long for your train?” asked the old man.

Derek looked at his watch and was about to read the time out when he noticed something strange, the second’s hand had stopped moving, and his watch was still stuck at 10:51, the time when he had realised he was late for the train and had started running.

“Well, you find use in something you hold from outside of yourself, where I hold what is found within.”

Derek thought he understood but he decided to change the subject. “Say, what’s your name? I’m Derek by the way, Derek Zimmer,” he put his phone away and came in close to shake the old man’s hand.

“You can call me Moe,” said the old man as he lifted an aged hand. But instead of shaking hand’s Moe bowed forward slightly then receded back to his lap.

“So what is it you do, I’m curious Y'know, how do you get by without a phone?” asked Derek.

“Ah, I can show you what I do, come, sit here.”

Derek sat down with a curious stare. Moe reached over and lay the wicker basket flat on the floor and with both hands he pulled the top over and inside the basket was a pile of neatly folded cloths, possibly clothes or sheet’s, and resting on the top was a glass ball the size of a small apple. Derek watched with fascination and Moe held it up in the light and then snatched back up only to reveal his hand empty. He took his other hand and with a flourish of his finger’s the ball suddenly appeared.

“Hey that’s neat,” said Derek with a grin like a seven year old.

“You try,” said Moe.

“Excuse me?”

Moe repeated himself and offered Derek the ball. “No no, honestly I’ll be no good,” Said Derek but Moe put the ball in his hand. But Derek was waving too much and the ball quickly fell from his fingers and bounced of the floor and rolled off the platform. Derek jumped up in disbelief.

“Oh god oh Jesus I’m sorry it slipped out of my hand,” said Derek as he went over to look over the platform as if he was going to get the ball from out the rails. But Moe smiled.

“Worry not of glass ball, for it cost little, just let it go,” said the old man.

Derek felt very apologetic, he had really liked the trick’s Moe did and wanted to get his ball back, even though he aught to not go on the rails, and he was a bit too short and stout to try in the first place. “Yeah but, this is how you make your money and I just lost your ball, that ball’s special.”

“Your right it is special, but not because it makes me money,” Moe opened the wicker basket again. “If you let go of something and it comes back to you, then it is special.”

And there it was, the glass ball. Or as Derek thought, any glass ball. He smiled as he walked towards Moe who held the ball out to him. Derek didn’t think much of it and took the ball when he noticed that it had a mark and some grit on it, as if it had been dropped on concrete. Very nice touch to that trick, Derek thought. For Moe may well have rubbed it in on the platform beforehand.

“That is the same ball,” affirmed Moe with a pleased grin.

“Sure it is,” said Derek.

“Do it again,” said Moe and he began motioning to throw it of the platform again.

But inside Derek’s pocket was a small sticker like the ones he used on some forms earlier. He slyly pulled out it out when he turned to Moe and while his back was to the old man he put the sticker on the ball. It was office blue. By now he thought that that was the last he would see of that blue sticker yet despite his scepticism he still wanted to be sure for conscious sake. Just before he threw the ball he thought to himself: I wonder how many glass balls he has?

The ball clinked once and fell into the darkness. That was twice he saw one of those balls hit the concrete and not break so he knew they weren’t cheap. He must be a madman thought Derek. He then turned to Moe with a satisfied grin but when Moe pulled the ball out of the basket there was something different about it, it had the sticker on it; office blue. Derek peered over the edge into the rails and at a glance he did not see the other two glass balls though it was dark. He walked back to Moe and sat back down next to him. Moe took the sticker of and handed it back to Derek who folded it together and put it in his pocket.

“See, the greatest power requires the lightest touch,” Moe said as he gently squeezed the crystal sphere into nothing and for the last time reveal his empty hand. Derek was impressed, if not a little bit shocked; either Moe had known Derek had put that sticker on it and had the same ones to trick him or; this was real magic, but he still chose to believe it was some miraculous coincidence, however it came about.

“Do you play cards?” asked Moe and before Derek could answer a pile of cards erupted out of the sorcerers hands and he spread them into a fan. Derek smiled and reached out for a card, his previous scepticism briefly forgotten. “King of club’s,” said Moe. Derek turned the card.

“Queen of heart’s,” said Derek, feeling somehow relieved.

“Here,” Moe took the card and handed him the deck. For a second Derek wondered what he was up to and then he looked through the cards. Every card was the king of clubs. Moe took the deck back and slipped them in his pocket but the queen of heart’s he kept out. Then with great care he held the card up with one hand and encased it with the other for only a second before lifting his hand revealing a flower made from a folded queen of hearts. Of course Derek thought it was a good gimmick and Moe began to make more shapes, a swan, a rabbit and each of with a second of the card being hidden. He did this until he revealed a butterfly and he threw it into the air. The wings began to flutter by themselves and it carried itself away into the wind. Derek was dumbfounded.

“Very good gimmick indeed,” said Derek. “But does it get expensive throwing these devices away? Does it pay well doing these tricks?”

“Tricks?” the man asked.

“Yes, your tricks, what you’ve just been doing! Jeez.” Derek was getting annoyed, he knew the magic wasn’t real and didn't see the need for the old man to stay in character the whole time.

“Ah, you mean how do I eat and where do I sleep?” said Moe.

“Yes,” said Derek in a long, pained breath.

“It always comes to me,” the old man said.

“What do you mean it comes to you? Don’t you have it already? You got a house? Pay rent? Wife and Kid’s?” Derek looked at the old man who seemed peaceful, well rested and calm. Maybe he’s a bum and does tricks on the street, Derek thought. Derek didn’t know what to say and looked around. Then he felt a bit guilty, maybe he had reacted too much for too little, I guess it doesn’t matter if he’s a bum. “Ah I’m sorry, see well, it’s my job. I’m job focused, and I work in money, Y'know, it’s what I do, I got a boss always on my case, the mortgage the wife. And everyone I went to school with is nearly doing the same thing except Billy Ladler but I wouldn’t wanna be him. I just find it hard to believe that someone as well dressed as and as talented as you would be homeless.”

“To answer your question,” said Moe as if ignoring Derek’s apology. “It comes to me because I ask.” Moe lifted his hand and with a graceful wave of his fingers an apple appeared. He held it towards Derek and with an excited look handed it to him. Derek took the apple and eyed it with suspicion. “You receive from you boss because you ask from your boss, I receive from life, because I ask from life.”

The old man’s sleeved had fallen down and his hands where empty before the apple appeared so Derek had deemed that trick the best one yet. But before he could react he heard the train pull up behind him and wrap around the platform. It opened it’s doors. Derek caught his reflection in the train window. A sudden feeling swept over him, Moe had frustrated his mind, but intrigued his soul and felt sad to leave. But when he turned to say bye he found himself staring at an empty seat. He looked down in dismay clutching the apple between his fingers. The train warden blew his whistle and Derek scuttled onto the train. What a strange fellow, thought Derek. Very strange.