The Train Conductor

Alberto arrived at Leving Rum Station sometime after the rain had begun. His mother had dropped him off on the platform in front of the emerald green steam engine with the number 19 emblazoned on the side. He still bore the pink outline of his mother’s lips on his forehead and touched it affectionately. Alberto set down his trunk, causing the contents within to rattle and clack. He glanced down at the ticket in his hand, turning it over to reveal a drawing of a large, menacing octopus with eight winding tentacles placing a gold crown on its large purple head.

           A little girl with cinnamon color hair and a round pumpkin-shaped head toddled past him, nearly knocking the ticket out of his hand. She was carrying a pink suitcase with peeling stickers on it. The latch of the suitcase was haphazardly locked and when she got to the entrance of the train, an assortment of snacks from half eaten fruit pouches to apple slices and whole wheat crackers spilled out on the platform.

           A woman wearing a fine pressed uniform that matched the color of the train stepped down from the main coach and onto the platform. She beamed at the little girl and helped scoop up the debris into her suitcase.

           “Ticket please,” she sang as she held out her hand. The little girl handed the woman the ticket, and watched with curiosity as the woman punched a hole in it with a silver hole puncher. The train conductor handed back the ticket and guided the little girl inside before retrieving a gold pocket watch from the breast pocket of her blazer, and checked the time.

           “Two minutes!” She bellowed.

The train conductor looked around at the bustling crowd on the platform before she noticed Alberto. She gave him a knowing wink as she snapped her pocket watch closed and slipped it back into her blazer.

“Are you ready, sir?”

Alberto smiled, “Train conductor?”

She flashed him a pink lipped smile. “Ticket please.”

Alberto handed the train conductor a ticket and was soon ushered into the passenger car along with a couple of stragglers.

The passenger car was filling up quickly, but Alberto managed to spot an open seat beside the little round- faced girl from before. She was occupying herself with the business of sucking her thumb and when she caught sight of Alberto, she waved. The other passengers in their cotton, polyester and velour furs were not inviting, staring off in indiscriminate directions, and so he decided that the little girl would perhaps be a better companion than say the old cow sitting with her head pressed against the window. When he sat beside the little girl, he tucked his trunk beneath his seat and waited with his hands on his lap.

The train conductor appeared at the front of the passenger car and beamed.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” she projected down the car. “We welcome you to Fast-Track Frasier’s First-Class Railway. My name is Mrs. Anne Frasier, and I will be your train conductor on this 30-mile trek to the ever-delightful Siesta Village. Please listen carefully as our rules have slightly changed since your last visit. Emergency exits are located here, here, here and here,” she said, rapidly pointing in several different directions. “Afternoon tea is served promptly at 12pm. The soup of the day is chicken soup with a side of goldish crackers.”

“Ca-ckers peas!” Exclaimed the little girl sitting beside Alberto.

Mrs. Frasier smiled at the little girl, and gave her a slight nod, acknowledging her request. The little girl sat back and clapped delightedly at the prospect of crackers and licked her lips for added effect.

“Bathrooms are located in the back,” continued Mrs. Frasier, “and please remember to keep your hands, feet, arms and legs—and anything else you wish not to lose inside the train at all times. And lastly, should we find ourselves in danger, please place your hands over your cheeks like so,” she said slapping her hands over her cheeks, “open your mouth real wide in an “o”, raise your eyebrows to your hairline and scream at the top of your lungs, ‘ahhhh!’” She belted at the top of her lungs.

Alberto and the little girl both threw their hands over their cheeks and imitated Mrs. Frasier’s high-pitched shriek, holding onto the deafening pitch, until a blond gentleman wearing a mechanic’s uniform poked his head into the car and shook his head.

“Too loud you guys.”

Mrs. Frasier tossed the blond gentleman a look that was a mixture of affection and a dash of remorse, and kissed him on the cheek apologetically. The blond gentleman shook his head, but retreated out of the passenger car with a pink stain on his cheek, blushing.

A hue the color of cotton candy began to creep up the cheeks of Mrs. Frasier too, as she smoothed out her pencil skirt and the tips of her lips twitched upward into a smile. Alberto stuck out his bottom lip and made a face, which she noticed, and laughed before continuing bashfully, “Ahem,” she cleared her throat. “Before we take off, there is one last thing: Be mindful of the giant octopi. They have an affinity for snacks, so please do not feed them!” She shot Alberto and the little girl a look, which prompted them to giggle. “Do we understand?”

Alberto and the little girl nodded—more so Alberto. The little girl merely moved her head forward once to imitate him. She had become fascinated with a loose string sticking out of the wall of the train beside the window.

 “Don’t touch,” Alberto advised, “You can rip the train.”

Suddenly a loud whistle bellowed and the train lurched forward, causing Alberto and the rest of the passengers to be flung backward ever so slightly. The train began to chug along the track—and sometimes neigh. (Somehow the trains on Fast-Track Frasier’s First-Class Railways were in the habit of emitting the oddest of sounds as they rumbled down the tracks).

The little girl was singing Old McDonald, as she tried to remove her socks, having already accomplished the task of removing her shoes.

“Beto!” Waved the little girl beside him, “Beto, kiss?”

“No Mila, we have to pretend we don’t know each other,” Alberto protested.

The little girl stretched out her leg across the seat and took a swing at Alberto with her tiny, bare foot, “Beto?”

“Shh, Mila. You know what’s coming next.”

“Doggy?”

           “No.”

           “Mommy!”

           Mrs. Frasier popped her head back into the passenger car, looking most alarmed. “Attention please! It appears that we will be passing through a particularly narrow tunnel. At this time, I ask that you huddle as close together as possible as we attempt to go through it without crushing any of snacks. Watch our heads!”

           Forgetting their earlier squabble, Alberto threw his arm over Mila and squeezed her tightly against him. The two children grinned in anticipation.

“Here we go! Ready now? Squeeze!” cried the train conductor.

            The roof and walls of the train car began to groan and shake. Light disappeared as they entered the tunnel. Suddenly, there was a loud shudder as their surroundings began to inch closer towards them, pressing the other passengers into a tangle of cotton and polyester limbs. Mila giggled and climbed onto Alberto’s lap as the train’s walls and roof crowded around them, nearly squishing them like a can of sardines.

The train conductor was nowhere to be found, but Alberto could hear her soft humming as the train trembled and swayed through the tunnel. At last the roof and walls began to slowly retreat, and Mila’s legs danced as the train slowly readjusted itself to as it was. Light spilled into the train once more and a couple of the other passengers lay on the floor or sprawled over or a across their seats.

           Mrs. Frasier appeared smiling, pushing in front of her a tea trolley with the most delightful menagerie of treats a four and two-year old could ever ask for. Sandwiches of peanut butter and jelly, cut into triangles with the crust cut off were meticulously arranged on a tray, adorned with grapes and strawberries.

           “Mmm,” said the children as they rubbed their bellies in unison.

           The train conductor handed Mila a snack-size bag of goldfish crackers and winked as she pulled up next to them. “A special order of hot chocolate for our two guests of honor,” she said handing them each a container filled with warm coco.

           Alberto and Mila sipped on their hot chocolate, smiling at each other as they felt the warm and comforting liquid travel down into their bellies.

           Mila was halfway through her hot chocolate when something sinister flashed across her face. She held up the bag of goldfish crackers, and looked between Alberto and the train conductor before glancing out the window.

           They were passing by a large lake now, that glistening in the sunlight, as if winking at them from outside. It suddenly dawned on Alberto what mischief Mila was up to.

           “Don’t do it Mila!”

           But it was too late. No sooner had the words leapt from his mouth when eight large tentacles suddenly emerged from the depths of the sea outside. They rose slowly upwards at first and continued to rise, until it seemed as if they were reaching for the blazing yellow ball in the sky. There was a pause as the tentacles remained swaying skyward, and the children waited anxiously for what would happen next.

           All of a sudden, all eight tentacles shot forward towards the train.

           Alberto and Mila threw their hands over their cheeks and began to scream just as Mrs. Frasier had instructed. The tentacles burst through the windows, spraying the train car with tiny pieces of glass. Immediately, a plush crocodile with a missing eye was dragged out of the train and was pulled into the bottom of the sea with hardly a trace of him left, save for the ripples in the lake marking the spot of his entry.

           Passengers scrambled about the train car and screamed wildly like frightened sheep.

           One of the passengers was in fact a lamb with a bell around its neck was nearly snatched up, but Mila’s tiny hand shot out and managed to cling tightly to it.

           “Peas! Beto Peas!” She beseeched him.

           Alberto was moved to sympathy for her plight and jumped to the floor and crawled towards his trunk, careful to avoid the tentacles of the octopus who was eagerly searching for more victims to join the other victims in the murky waters outside.

           He reached under the seat and pulled out the trunk, and there inside was a variety of toy cars, trains and a plastic hammer. He momentarily got distracted with the trains and began to roll them along the floor, making train noises as he played.

           Mrs. Frasiser popped her head inside the cabin as a tentacle swung over her head, knocking the hat off her head. “Aren’t you going to help save Mila’s lamb?”

           Alberto snapped back at attention, and set the train aside and reached for the hammer. He held it up to the Mrs. Frasier and she nodded in approval. When she disappeared a massive tentacle whipped forward and seized him by the scruff of his shirt. Alberto had fought manic octopi many a times, and the destruction of this one would be just as simple as the others. He swung the hammer down on the tentacle and it released him.

           Mila was pointing at the plush lamb as it was slowly, almost teasingly, dragged out of the window. Alberto swung the hammer over his head and brought it down upon the tentacle. The octopus let out a yelp and released the lamb. The lamb arose and ran to Mila who caught it into her arms and embraced it.

           “Five minutes love.” A man’s voice called. It was the man in the mechanic’s uniform.

           “No daddy, no bed.”

           Mrs. Frasier appeared at the front of the passenger car, rubbing her hands. “I’m afraid daddy’s right sweetie. I’ve let you stay up long enough.”

           “Train conductor mommy?”

           “Yes Beto.”

           Alberto yawned, but did not move from his spot on the train. Mila, with the lamb pressed against her chest, was dozing off by his side, tugging at the loose string from earlier.

           “Come along Mila, off we go,” said Daddy as he stooped inside the train tent and lifted her off the floor. Mila rested her head on his chest and did not struggle. “Five more minutes Beto, make them count.”

           Alberto yawned again, “No bed mommy.”

           The train conductor stooped beside Alberto and ran her fingers gently through his hair. “Five more minutes love.”

           He felt his eyelids weighing down heavily over his eyes. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. Fighting giant octopi was a tiring business. He rubbed his eyes and the train conductor gently scooped him up in to her arms.

           “We’re almost at Siesta Village,” she said sweetly.

           “Train conductor mommy?” he whispered.

           “Yes, bebe?”

           “I love you train conductor mommy.”

           Alberto felt himself being lifted up from his spot in the living room where his mother had set up the tent that was shaped like a train. He fit securely and comfortably in her arms even though though his legs dangled around her waist. His breaths became soft and even as he was whisked away upstairs. His mother brushed her lips upon his forehead, leaving another pink mark, “Welcome to Siesta Village my love.”