Encounter on a Train

*This story contains multiple sensitive themes: Mental heath/PTSD, and graphic details of an auto accident*

Pitch black night; that's all I can see through the glass. I can hear bullets of rain hammering against the window, but all I can see is dark, endless nothing. I close my eyes, and try to focus on the subtle click-clack of train tracks. At first, all I hear is the assaulting rain. A man with a gray beard snoring in the seat in front of mine, gray hat with a silvery white feather tipped precariously over his face. A distant conversation about politics. Hushed whispers and a crying baby. I inhale deeply, clench my jaw and roll my eyes under closed lids; an attempt at subduing my growing annoyance of all the sounds I don't want to hear. I want, no, I need the tracks to lull me to sleep.

"Focus on something soothing"... the words of my psychiatrist replay in my mind.

Easier said than done. My senses are constantly on overdrive since the accident. The pungent smell of upturned earth and gasoline. Broken glass dancing past my eyes as my world spins in slow motion, completely out of control. The grisly twisting crunch of metal hitting pavement, then ground, then trees. Warmth in my mouth. Tangy and metallic. The car engine revving and wheels spinning but going nowhere. Screaming children. Bare feet kicking at a severely fractured windshield.. desperate to escape..

I jerk upward in my seat as my eyelids fly open, grasping at the armrests on either side of me. I can feel my heart trying to break free of it's cage. My skin flashes cold, then hot, then cold again. Images of my friend's bloodied face and body limply hanging from her seat belt. Searing pain in my neck and shoulder. Have to get us out! Have to get the children out!

"Breathe."

I hear a man whisper to my right and I startle as he places a gentle hand on my shoulder.

Gray beard. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding, and quickly replace it on a gulping inhale.

"That's it. In and out. You've got it", the man with the gray beard encourages.

He slips his hand from my shoulder and places it together with his other hand, interlocking fingers, and resting in his lap. In my periphery, I can see him looking at me intently. My eyes glide slowly over to his and are met with a pair of soulful gray orbs. Relief flits over his features as he drags one hand over his partially bald head and exhales. "Are you okay?"

As my racing heart starts to calm, I take a moment to observe this man. Worn in leather loafers, gray suit, black belt, long sleeve white button up shirt and a multi-tonal gray tie. Olive skin with many years, written in deep lines over his face. Gray beard. Gray eyes that seem to radiate understanding and compassion.

"I'm okay", I breathe out. I bring my eyes to focus on the fabric covered seat in front of me and bite down on my lips. Embarrassed. I've embarrassed myself again. Not the first time, and certainly not the last.

First time was in a grocery store of all places. People mumbling and milling about in search of various food items. Pushing their carts and grabbing things from the shelves. Then the breaking glass. The accidental drop of a jar of salsa. The splintering glass and red that seemed to jump in front of my eyes. I was back in the car, flipping through the air, to my final destination. Or so I thought.

Second time it happened, I was walking my children to the park. Their little feet crunching and kicking up gravel from the sidewalk.

After that, I've lost count. It just happens whenever and wherever it wants. Squealing brakes. Crying children. My co-worker's patchouli scented hand cream. It's like my brain is trying to connect everything around me to that one event. I hate it. I wish it would stop. Makes it hard to breathe. Makes it hard to feel normal.

"Okay then." Gray beard nods, gives a warm smile, and starts to stand.

"Why?" I question, turning my head to look up at him. "Why did you feel the need to console me?"

It's an honest question, not meant to be insulting. I'm genuinely curious why this man would try to comfort me in my obvious state of distress. Usually, people offer me strange looks or turn away quickly to act as though they hadn't noticed.

"You've been through trauma", he states as though he knows. His voice is calming, and he looks through me like he can see it written in my mind.

It should make me uneasy; that kind of vulnerability to a compete stranger on a train. It doesn't. In fact, I'm pleasantly surprised at how comfortable I feel with him so near my personal bubble.

"Please..sit if you'd like". I motion to the seat next to mine and turn slightly to my right to face him.

He smiles, and accepts my offer by sitting back down. Stretching out his right hand, he introduces himself. "Mr. Gray Beard".

My eyes go wide and I sputter a cough as I return his handshake. "That's your name?!" I ask incredulously. I study him for a moment, waiting for him to laugh or make a joke of it. He just smiles, sincerity in his features. "No, really.. is it?!" It can't be. That would be ridiculous!

The man chuckles, and his laughter is like beautiful music and a bright sunny day. "You can call me Gray", he smiles.

I stare, mesmerized by the youthful light in his eyes that don't seem to match his face. I can see it clearly, even in this dimly lit train. It's as if he's a man in his prime trapped in the body of one much, much older. Curious.

"May I sing to you?" he asks. "I've been told my voice is soothing". He looks down for a moment, humbly, then back up to meet my eyes again.

"I would be honored", I tell him truthfully.

As Gray begins to sing, I lean comfortably back in my seat. The soft, perfectly pitched melody dancing into my ears and painting a beautiful scene in my mind's eye. This man was truely blessed with a divine voice, I thought to myself. It's as though the words themselves transformed into their meanings in a most spectacular way.

My eyes flutter closed and I am immersed into a new world I could never have imagined myself.

As I drift into dreamland, I hear Gray whisper, "May God bless you".

All at once, the outside world is shut out and I am in blissful, peaceful rest.

**

I slowly open my eyes and smile, stretching out my arms and legs. I look to my left through the window and I'm greeted with the vibrant colors of sunrise. I sigh, as I take in the natural beauty of the sky. Glancing down at my watch, I realize I'm almost at my destination. Excitement fills me at the thought of seeing my family. I've missed them so much!

I feel good, I mentally note. I haven't slept that well in.. well ever!

"Gray", the name slips past my lips on a whisper.

Looking to my right, I expect to see the man sleeping where I last saw him.

He's not there. I glance to the seats in front of mine, then behind. I slowly scan the railcar looking for the man I wish to thank, but he's nowhere to be seen.

"Excuse me!" I say, catching the attention of a car attendant. "Have you seen the older gentleman sitting in the seat in front of mine? Maybe mid 80's, gray beard, gray suit?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I don't recall anyone matching that description", the car attendant states with clasped hands.

"But..", I start, " He's rather handsome..with olive skin and bright gray eyes. " I wait expectantly.

"Ma'am, there are only 10 passengers on this car, and none of them older. Perhaps.. you had a dream?", she suggests.

I shake my head and bite at my bottom lip, my mind recalling the events of the night in great detail.

"Would you care for some breakfast?" She passes her hand in front of a selection of items on her rolling cart.

"Hot tea and a muffin, please. And..you're sure you haven't seen him?"

The attendant shakes her head side to side, smile plastered to her face, and eyes pleading me to stop asking.

"Okay. Thank you", I nod.

Tray in front of me, I unroll my silverware and place my napkin to the side. "What a wonderfully strange night..I could swear he was real!" I say to myself, brows knitted together. I release a small laugh and reach for my fork, accidentally brushing my napkin to the floor. As I bend to reach for it, my eye is caught by something silky white stuck into the base of my seat. Long and exquisite, so white it almost glows, and tipped in silvery-gray.

It was a feather.

Gently plucking the feather from the seat, I hold it up in front of my eyes and study it's iridescent beauty.

It's the same one I saw in Gray's hat. I know it in my heart.

I tenderly place the feather to my chest and sigh, giving silent thanks to my angel.