‘Here and Now’

Desperate. That’s how Carla felt. Desperate to  shove through the tight-knit group of tourists in front of her on the escalator. She weighed up a few possible manœuvres, but decided each held a high risk of sending them all toppling like dominoes, which would delay her even further. So she stared at her feet instead, wondering how often she’d stood on this particular step before, trying to find something unique about it for future reference. She focussed on a red bead wedged between the metal. ‘I’ll make a mental note of that bead,’ she told herself. Anything to keep herself rooted to the spot.

Carla wasn’t normally in a rush to get to where she was going, back to the predictable cooking, housework, boring TV… But today was different. 

A man came pushing up the steps, jolting her out of her thoughts. ‘Sorry…I’m running late… Sorry,’ he said, over and over, leaving a chorus of tuts and sighs in his wake.

He dashed across the platform, towards the train she usually took, the one she’d missed quite a few times and usually on purpose. Then her eyes fixed on the train she was taking this evening, a proud red train, languishing quietly at the end of a platform. She couldn’t believe it had taken her thousands of rush hours to notice it. But just like everyone else, she didn’t lift her head up that often. 

Carla leaned round to double check the destination on the front of the train. ‘Here and Now,’ it said, in white capital letters. At first it had sounded like the name of a quaint village in the middle of nowhere. It still did, though she knew better now.

‘Have you signed the disclaimer?’ The guard was immaculate in his navy double-breasted coat and matching felt hat. 

Carla rifled through her handbag.

‘Yes,’ she said, detaching the piece of paper from the wad in her hand.

‘Have you read the instructions carefully, and practised the exercises rigorously?’ No doubt these were questions he asked everyone, but his eyes looked directly into hers as he waited for her to answer.

‘Yes,’ she said brightly, handing him the crumpled paper. The other hand was behind her back, her fingers firmly crossed. Ok, so she’d skimmed the instructions, and as for the exercises… Well, how hard could it be? 

‘Ok, Ms Roberts, it’s my duty to remind you that your journey begins the second you step onto the train. No thoughts of the past or the future, just like the exercises will have taught you. Do you understand?’ 

‘Yes,’ she said. 

‘And do you understand the consequences should you fail to do this?’

She didn’t recall reading about that bit, so Carla just nodded as solemnly as she could muster, even though the thought of that hour on the train, all to herself, living completely in the present, had her giddy with excitement. It was a world away from the exhausting, plate-spinning life she’d been living for the past 15 years. There was always something to plan for or something to feel bad about, which had made the present, for her at least, a soupy mixture of the past and the future that it was just a question of wading through.

The guard doffed his cap and stepped to one side. ‘Then welcome on board the ‘Here and Now’, Ms Roberts. Enjoy your time with us. And don’t forget, ‘There’s no greater present than the present!’’

Carla smiled and stepped into the carriage. It was immaculate inside, and smelled of old leather and new carpets. Polished brass accessories reflected the muted lighting, and the red velvet chairs were well-worn and inviting. She’d purposely chosen an aisle seat, so she could have a good look around during the journey in case she got bored of playing the travel solitaire that she’d bought especially for the trip. 

‘Good evening,’ said the man sitting in the window seat next to her. He turned back to his sudoku before she could reply. In fact, everyone had their heads down, just like on every other train she’d ever been on. Some were knitting, others were doing puzzles, and quite a few had those colouring books for grown ups. No-one was doing nothing. And then a whistle blew and the train began to move.

Carla closed her eyes briefly, then turned her head lazily towards her neighbour. His thick hair was the whitest she’d ever seen. Well, apart from her grandad’s, whose snowy hair and full beard had earned him the inevitable name of Grandad Christmas. She could picture him now, on his squashed side of the settee with a cup of tea resting on his rounded stomach next to the TV remote control. There were ten grandchildren in total, but Carla knew she’d been the favourite. ‘There’s no crushing your spirit, Carla,’ he once said to her. She’d been about 8 years old and had just given him an animated account of an incident at school, when she’d finally stood up to the boy who’d been picking on her for the past few weeks and snapped all his coloured pencils. He’d cried and she’d laughed because it had served him right. ‘You were born with that spirit,’ said her Grandad. ‘Got it from my side.’ How heartbroken she’d been when his spirit had left him. Just thinking about it now made her throat feel tight. 

The train whooshed into a tunnel, and the change of atmosphere that came with it jolted Carla out of her reflections. She put her hand to her mouth, her eyes darting around. ‘Too much thinking back, Carla’, she told herself, hoping no-one had noticed. ‘Focus, come on’. She didn’t usually do regrets, but right now Carla was wishing she’d done those exercises. She took a deep breath and told herself to lock the past away along with its pleasures and pains, and think about now. She was normally good at compartmentalising her thoughts. That’s how her marriage had survived her two office dalliances, and how she’d secured her well-paid job based on a very exaggerated— among numerous other examples.

Deciding it was time to indulge in some solitaire, Carla leaned over to rifle through the handbag she’d placed at her feet. A lost pen rolled under her seat and she picked it up and turned to the woman just behind. 

‘Is this yours?’, she asked. 

The woman nodded politely and mouthed it a thank you. She was wearing the exact coat that Carla had spotted in the sales. A long, pink woollen coat that would go well with her blond hair. ‘It’ll look better on me,’ she thought to herself. But what if they sold out before she had a chance to get her size? She would go during her break tomorrow, perhaps get to work a bit earlier so she could take an early lunch. There was loads of work to do on that new file that had just landed in her in-box, but she had to have that coat…

Carla gasped and the man next to her briefly looked her way, then went back to his puzzle. That was the only way to succeed on this damn train, thought Carla. Occupy your mind with something immediate to stop it wandering all over the place. She’d have to practice that for next time. 

‘Carla Roberts?’ Carla’s head whipped up, and her face flushed as she raised her hand.

The guard came panting down the aisle towards her, his panicked expression the opposite of his earlier relaxed demeanour.

‘Please, come with me,’ he said under his breath. ‘There are two more of you, at the end of the train.’

Carla wanted to laugh.

‘I must have a couple of doppelgängers!’, she joked, but it was lost on the guard who’d already set off back up the aisle, looking over his shoulder.

‘Follow me, quickly,’ he said in a loud whisper. None of the other passengers paid any attention, remaining so disconnected that Carla briefly wondered if they were human at all. It was only then that she realised their behaviour must have something to do with the exercises they’d no doubt practiced rigorously while she hadn’t bothered.

But it was too late to kick herself now. Instead she rushed after the guard, her mind doing somersaults. This was not quite the relaxing ride she’d envisaged, but it was certainly interesting. Just a shame she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about it afterwards—that was the one rule she actually had read. Not that anyone would possibly know if she just happened to tell her husband later…

It seemed to take ages to make the journey up the train, and since it was travelling in the opposite direction to the way she was walking, Carla lost all sense of whether she was going backwards or forwards. It was only when the final set of automatic doors opened that her senses came back to her. They closed behind her as she found herself staring at two women. Two more of her. The guard had made himself scarce, leaving Carla with no idea as to what she was supposed to do. Her eyes darted to the window as she searched for a piece of reality to ground this odd situation in, but she was met only by darkness and the blurred outline of her own reflection. 

‘Why are you trying to forget me?,’ said one of her, hands on hips. Carla scrutinised the face. Hers. The haunted expression was one she was all too familiar with, the skin dehydrated with the regret and shame she’d tried to soothe with white wine.

‘You’re my past!,’ said Carla. ‘And of course I’m trying to forget you.’

The Past came closer to her, her face contorted into a frown.

‘But what have I ever done to you?’, she asked, her voice wobbling slightly.

‘You never give me a break!,’ said Carla. ‘Instead of reminding me of all the good things I’ve done, you make me feel bad for every stupid mistake I’ve ever made.’ 

The other her shoved the Past to one side. 

‘And what about me? What did I do?’ 

Carla looked hard at her future, identical to hers apart from the eyes, which were bright and wide. 

‘You let me dare to dream,’ she said. ‘Dream that one day I might get off this damn treadmill. But look at your face! You’re the image of me, so that must mean that things never change. You’re weak and scared, and I hate you more than I hate her!’ She cocked her head at the Past, then turned back to the Future and whispered. ‘You’re nothing but a disappointment.’ 

The blue eyes of her fragile Future filled with tears, while her hard Past laughed a rusty laugh.

They both leaned in closer then, pinning Carla against the exit door of the train. 

Anther tunnel. A change in atmosphere. Carla took her chance, grabbing a rail with one hand and pushing a button with the other. The doors whooshed open, and the thunderous noise of the train filled the space. It was a situation the Past had never experienced and the Future couldn’t imagine, their confusion giving Carla time to duck behind them and shove them out of the moving train and into the black void beyond. She put her hands on her knees, panting with the effort of it all. Past and Future gone. They’d been a lot heavier than she’d expected. 

The guard reappeared then, his composure regained.

‘All sorted?,’ he asked cheerily.

‘Yes,’ said Carla, allowing herself a satisfied smile. ‘But I think I need to sit down.’ She put her fingers to her temples, which had started to throb. 

‘Then I’ll escort you back to your seat, Ms Roberts.’ Which was a good job, as in the excitement Carla had completely forgotten which carriage she was in.

Ten minutes later and the train pulled back into the station, grinding to a lazy halt at the end of the platform. Carla had to hold back a giggle as she stepped back onto the platform. What a bizarre experience, she thought to herself.

It took her a few minutes to get to the taxi rank, weaving in and out of the other commuters, her head pounding now. 

‘Been anywhere nice?’, asked the driver. 

Carla heaved a sigh. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m not feeling great.’ 

‘Never mind,’ said the driver. ‘Where are you going then, love?’. 

Carla frowned and rubbed her forehead. 

‘I…er…,’ she stammered. 

‘Well, where do you live?,’ he asked again, a note of impatience in his voice as he eyed her through the rear view mirror.

Carla screwed her eyes up, desperately trying to get her mind to come up with an answer, reaching backwards and forwards but coming up blank.

‘Well I… I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘Just give me a minute.’ She rifled round in her bag to find a purse, some way of identifying herself, but all she found was a ticket for a train on Platform 13. She dived out of the taxi. Perhaps that’s where she was supposed to be headed.

There were no signs for that platform, so Carla made her way to Platform 12, hopping onto an escalator. It was so packed with people that she couldn’t move. A man pushed past, apologising as he went, but Carla didn’t want to do the same and risk knocking all the tourists over, so she focused instead on a red bead that was stuck in the metal tread of the escalator. ‘I’ll make a mental note of that bead,’ she thought.