TRAIN RIDE TO NEW ENGLAND

TRAIN RIDE TO NEW ENGLAND

John Hall left his apartment at seven in the morning and headed to the train station, a twenty-minute-walk away. He hurried through rows of streets, carrying a

rectangular-shaped brown leather suitcase, often putting his left hand atop his grey bowler hat, preventing it from being whisked away by the wind. He was careful, walking as far away as possible from incoming carts, buggies and coaches, as he crossed a dozen streets, trying not to step on piles of horse dung. Cars sharing space with horses, sometimes caused unfortunate accidents, one of which John contoured, as he crossed the last street and entered the train station. In front of kiosks, hundreds of people waited in lines, for their turn to buy tickets to a destination. John had purchased his ticket previously, bypassing the long lineups, heading directly to gate B-5. From the left pocket of his frock coat, he pulled out his ticket and handed it to the ticket officer, standing to one side of the gate’s entrance. The officer gave him back his ticket, as well as directions to his assigned cabin.

“...Keep your ticket on hand Sir. An officer will go to your cabin for validation, fifteen minutes before departure. Have a pleasant trip.” - Said the ticket officer.

“Thank you” - Answered John. He walked a few steps to the boarding wagon and went in. The first wagon was a lounge with a bar, where elegantly clad people sat sipping alcoholic beverages, tea and coffee. Some of the gentlemen smoked tobacco from intricately carved pipes, while some of the ladies, inhaled from long cigarette holders, delicately spewing the smoke, away from the person they faced. The second and third wagon he crossed, were a restaurant, while the following wagon, a quiet library, where people sat reading books, magazines and the daily newspaper. Finally, he reached the living quarters. He slowed his pace, carefully checking for cabin number 10, situated at the end of the narrow hall, just before crossing onto the next wagon. He drew a key from the left-side pocket of his frock coat, inserted the key into the keyhole of the cabin’s sliding door, lowered its handle, simultaneously sliding the door to the right.

Inside, he set his suitcase on the floor, removed his frock coat and hung it on a peg beside the cabin’s door, which he then closed. He was about to sit on the green-felt armchair, set across from a bunk bed fastened to the wall of the cabin, when he heard three consecutive knocks. He quickly rose and slid open the door.

“Goodmorning sir, just informing passengers that departure is in fifteen minutes, and I’m also going to need your travel ticket for the final validation, please.” - Said the ticket officer.

John Hall handed his ticket to the man, who circled John’s name on a passenger list, after having examined the ticket. - “Mister Hall, if you wish to have breakfast, it will be served shortly after the train’s departure. Have a good day and a pleasant trip.” - Politely added the ticket officer. John closed the door and went back to the green armchair. He sat for a few minutes after the locomotive’s whistle blew loud, watching the city disappear through his cabin’s window.

A waiter, clad in the railway company’s uniform, set John’s meal on the table; a plate of scrambled eggs, a generous portion of bacon, two bread buns, plenty of butter, and two cups of tea, to wash everything down. - “Feel free to call on me if you need anything else. Enjoy your meal.” - Graciously added the waiter.

“Thank you” - Said John Hall, already holding a fork with his right hand. He ate while gazing out the window, by which the restaurant’s table was placed, admiring passing panoramas of vast Northern forests, trees laden with newly sprouted leaves, covering mountains, some with cascading waterfalls that led to various great lakes and rivers. Inside, the panorama was just as interesting; waiters and waitresses hurrying around the restaurant’s tables, serving patrons, while delectable culinary scents effused from all around. Having finished his breakfast, John rose from his chair and left the restaurant; wages for his meals to be paid upon arrival to his destination. He went directly to the library wagon, where he sat reading the daily newspaper, the rest of the morning. By noon, he decided to skip lunch and have a nap instead.

John Hall reached into the right pocket of his grey trousers, for the key to his cabin. To his surprise, along with the key, was a small, folded paper. He unfolded the paper and red it. - “Mister Hall, you must NOT bring the book you carry to its destination!!!” - John Hall stood by the entrance of his cabin, staring at the paper while a speck of anxiety began to grow within him. He doesn’t remember having this paper in his pocket, this morning, when he dressed, although he couldn’t be sure that he had checked. He went inside, sliding the door shut, wondering how and when, the folded paper got inside his pocket. He sat on the armchair, thinking that whoever wrote this message, knows of his assigned task to deliver the book.

In contrast, John knew nothing of the book, hadn’t even seen it, and was instructed not to remove the brown paper, wrapped and tied over it, fully concealing the book. However, his employer mentioned that the client paid for personal delivery to New England, as well as the carrier’s return trip to New France. He set the paper on a small side-table, next to the armchair, closed his eyes, dozing off ‘till two in the afternoon.

The instant his eyes opened, the folded paper came into his mind, and he wondered who was behind such harassment. He would not leave the book unguarded. He opened his suitcase, took out the packaged book, as well as a brown leather pouch, large enough for the package, yet discreet if worn under his single-breasted jacket. John readied himself and left the cabin. Bypassing the restaurant, he looked at passengers laughing, eating and drinking; and considered an early supper, after spending some time in the library. He reached the library, in hopes of finding a selection of short stories he could read, rather than a long novel he could not finish reading by bedtime. He found nothing to his taste, and people were now crowding the library, hovering too close to the bookshelves and to him. He didn’t want anybody else slipping papers in his trousers' pocket, changing his mind about reading before supper, and was about to leave when a book fell from a shelf in front of him. He bent down to pick it up and noticed that a paper, folded in two, had partially slipped out from the book’s pages. He pulled out the folded paper, set the book on a shelf, unfolded the paper and red it. - “You are in danger Mister John Hall, and will put many, in harm’s way if you deliver, the book you carry, to its destination.” - John crumpled the paper with his left hand and put it in his trousers' left pocket. Then, he discreetly looked around the library, hoping to see some suspicious individual he could blame, but there were too many people, and he found all of them suspicious. He thought it best to spend the rest of the trip in his cabin, for it was clear to him that he was being followed.

It was three in the afternoon when he returned to his cabin. He removed his jacket, as well as the brown leather pouch, strapped across his upper body, which he set on the side table, along with the two folded papers. Next, he unfastened the bunk bed from the wall, part of it set on the floor, while the other side remained fixed onto the cabin’s wall. An ornate golden rope with a red tassel at its bottom end, hung opposite the bunk bed’s wall. He pulled it, and a small tinkling bell, hanging beside the door outside the cabin, rang. A bellboy would come, shortly, to take his order of food and beverage. Under a minute passed when there was a knock on the door. Amazed by the speedy service, John opened the door, eager to compliment the bellboy for his promptness, but John Hall could not say one single word. The instant John opened the door; a bellboy pushed his way inside the cabin, propelling John on the floor.

Before John could react, the bellboy was pressing a white cloth imbued with Chloroform, over John’s nose and mouth. Quickly, the latter’s meager resistance ended.

Once certain that John was out cold, the bellboy quickly rose and walked toward a linen trolley parked beside the cabin. He made sure no one saw him. He pulled the trolley, setting it in front of the cabin’s entrance, emptied all the linen from the trolley’s container, lifted and carried John with much difficulty, before abruptly setting John inside. The bellboy threw all the linen, scattered on the cabin’s floor, back into the trolley’s container, completely concealing John. He opened the cabin’s window, grabbed the white cloth dampened with chloroform from the floor, and threw it out. He quickly spotted the brown leather pouch, opened it, pulled the package out, and read the name and address of its recipient. He threw the package into the trolley, along with the linen and John Hall. Slowly, the bellboy pushed the trolley all the way to the back of the train, where the linen was kept.

At six in the evening, the train’s whistle resonated, indicating a two hour stop in a New England village, startling John Hall to wake, from his chloroform induced sleep. His eyesight was blurred and couldn’t discern his dark surroundings.

“Good evening, John Hall, my name is Arnbert Green, and it is I who have brought you here.” - Calmy stated a man’s deep voice, while John remained silent.

The man continued to speak. - “I’m also the one who slipped the paper into your pocket, as well as the paper inside the library’s book. I was hoping to scare you enough, so you would change your mind about delivering the book and take the first train back to New France.” - Arnbert Green paused, allowing a few moments of silence. He sat on a wooden stool, facing John Hall, five feet away, holding the package.

John’s eyesight slowly cleared, and the latter examined his surroundings. He lay on the floor, inside a storage closet; folded linen set on wall-to-wall shelving. A few feet away, he saw a stranger sitting on a small stool, speaking to him. John paid attention to the man’s words.

When the man went silent, John hefted himself to a sitting position, his back resting against the shelving behind him. An oil lamp was set on the floor beside the stranger, illuminating the inside of the closet.

“Are you going to hurt me?” - asked John Hall in a raspy voice.

“Not beyond the stress I’ve already caused you, but do not leave before you hear what I’ve got to say.” - Added Arnbert Green, fixing John, eye to eye. The man, to whom you are to deliver this package, is very dangerous, and is linked to disappearances of countless people. Furthermore, to this day, everyone in the neighborhood where we live, have only ever seen him at night.”

“So, you live near his house?” - John interjected, surprised at the interest that grew within him, about the story being told.

“Much too close I would say. Every night, once all sunlight has disappeared, we, his surrounding neighbors, see him leave his house; only returning an hour, or so, before sunrise. He always comes back with at least a person accompanying him, although he often is accompanied by many. Never have we seen any of those people exit the house. In fact, some neighbors and I, have seen photographs of missing people, in the daily newspapers, identical to some of the individuals he’d brought to his home. Throughout the years, before and after my birth, people from the neighborhood had denounced him to the authorities, accusing him of being linked to someone’s disappearance. Unfortunately, all who dared throw accusations at him, disappeared, including the detectives in charge of the investigations.” - Said Arnbert Green, a helpless, disillusioned expression on his face, then continued his story. - “This past winter, he went to the post office on a Thursday evening, just before Mary Welsh, who lives in the neighborhood, was about to close. He mailed an order for a medical book, dealing with sunlight intolerance. I believe that book is in this package.”

John Hall considered every word mister Green had said, and although he saw himself as a rational modern, early twentieth century man, he believed Arnbert’s story. - “The package was ordered by C. Ardelean. What’s his first name?”

“Corneliu Ardelean is his full name.” - Arnbert answered.

“How did you know that I was to deliver the book, and why is this medical book so important to Corneliu Ardelean?” - John Hall asked.

“A letter came to the post office for Mister Ardalean, which Mary Welsh artfully opened. She read it. It was a letter confirming the package’s eventual delivery to Corneliu Ardalean, as well as your full name, and the carrier company you work for. Knowing that I work for the railway company, Mary passed along the information, suggesting that I steal the book from you, and so I did. We, those of us that are Corneliu’s neighbors, believe that in this book, he will find a cure to his sunlight intolerance, and will ravage people, not only during night hours, but also during the day.” - Said Arnbert Green, a hint of bravado in his voice.

“Mister Green, you have the book, do what you will with it. I’m glad to rid myself of it, too much trouble. I will take your advice and leave the train as we speak and find an inn to stay overnight. Tomorrow, I will take the noon train back to New France. Thank you, you may have saved my life.” - Said John. He rose upright, quickly running away from the man sitting on the small wooden stool. He ran through wagon after wagon until he reached his cabin, its door still open. He put on his single-breasted jacket, frock coat and bowler hat, grabbed his suitcase and left the train, five minutes before its departure.

Arnbert Green calmly rose from the stool, holding the package with his right hand and left the linen-storage. He walked to the combustion chamber and threw the package into the fire, taking the time to see it turn to ashes. He then continued his work, collecting dirty linen from passenger cabins. He was scheduled to work until midnight, at which point Arnbert had a quick bite to eat, went to his own cabin and sat on his bunk bed until two in the morning, when the train’s arrival to the city was announced.

As Arnbert Green left the train station, he caught a glimpse of Corneliu Ardalean, sitting in his buggy, waiting for John Hall that would never arrive. Arnbert hurried to the railway stables, where his buggy and donkey were parked. He climbed onto his old buggy and urged the donkey to gallop fast, hoping to reach his neighborhood before Corneliu Ardalean. Henry, the donkey, had pulled the buggy halfway home, when Arnbert gazed to the back of the buggy. Still at a considerable distance, Corneliu’s buggy was on his way. Arnbert Green wondered, if Corneliu had seen him at the train station. Ten anxious minutes went by, before Henry reached home.

Mister Green locked the door to the shed, in which the buggy and Henry were kept. Forgetting to unbridle Henry, he walked to another door, leading to the inside of his home. He went directly to his bedroom, sat on a chair by the window, slightly pulling the curtains to peak outside, and spy on Corneliu Ardalean. Close to four in the morning it was, when Corneliu was seen entering his home, along with a seemingly distraught, Mary Welsh. Arnbert Green reacted instantly, knowing full well that he had to flee as fast as possible. He ran back to the shed, climbed on the buggy, forgetting to open the shed’s door. He swore, and was about to go open the door, when he noticed the door unlock itself, slowly opening, as the figure of Corneliu Ardalean was progressively revealed. Arnbert Green and Henry were tetanized with fear.

No words were exchanged between Corneliu and Arnbert, and the only sounds heard were Henry’s and Arnbert’s heavy breathing. Corneliu slowly paced toward the donkey until he stood to its right side. He tilted his head toward Henry’s neck, opened his mouth revealing an unusual set of teeth, sharp-edged and thin. He bit the donkey’s neck, wrapping his arms around it. Quickly, Henry lost his strength, falling sideways on the floor, Corneliu clinging to its neck. Simultaneously, the buggy tilted sideways, catapulting Arnbert against the wall, and onto the shed’s floor. Corneliu Ardalean crouched on the floor and lay beside Arnbert Green, directly making eye to eye contact, their faces nearly touching. Corneliu smiled, as he caressed Arnbert’s neck, to which he then pressed his mouth. Arnbert Green fell asleep, never to wake again.