Skunk Train

I was supposed to go on this mini vacation with my husband. Now my ex-husband. I am going anyway. I deserve a vacation after the last month. In fact, I deserve a months’ vacation! Who would have thought I would be riding a train; one called the Skunk Train. I had to travel six hours to get here just so I can ride it for a couple of hours. My thinking might be screwed up. Now I am waiting to board till this slow, self-centered bunch, (I mean five people) get on the train. The trainman reaches out his hand to help me up the steps. I feel really old and like I am in a different era of time. I thank him and try to smile.

I thought the group was together, but they take every other seat, alternating sides. It looks weird and guess what, I am the only other person in the passenger car. My ticket has me right next to the old woman with a peasant scarf wrapped around her neck. She sniffs at me and turns her face to the window. That irritates me. Well, everything irritates me right now. She can be a snob, and I can long for a window seat looking at the countryside that might at least be interesting or diverting. I wonder if they will let me change seats. I look for someone to help but no one is around. The train is starting up. I didn’t know that these old trains were so noisy and so …

The guy in the next seat back just stood up. He looks bad, like he’s about to throw up or something. He’s swaying. Crap, he’s going to fall over. No one else is paying attention. Why do I always have to be the good Samaritan? I leap from my seat and get turned around just in time. He falls across the seat in front of him and I help him to the floor. He’s out. At least he’s not dead. There is barely any movement from the other passengers acknowledging something is going on. It is almost like they are automated or something. Stony eyed, I try to stare at them. They don’t care. He’s moving, shifting his weight. I kneel back down to see if I can do anything else. His eyes shift away from me, he nods his head when I ask if he is ok. Not a word spoken as he sits back in his seat. I also sit down. The ticket taker, I don’t know what he is actually called, stepped into the car. Everything seems normal. The people are nodding and gesturing, and I even hear a little laugh from the lady beside me, even though no one has said anything funny.

I so wish I was somewhere else. This was supposed to be the start of my new single life. I want to be distracted from my real life, but this is ridiculous. There isn’t even anyone to talk to or try to be friends with. I look back at the sick man. He is staring straight ahead, but he seems more alive than all the rest. The train rocks a bit on the track. He seems startled, his eyes meet mine for a second and then he is back to staring. I feel like I should be cautious and not try to start a conversation. I turn and stare straight ahead. Maybe it will help me think.

Riding the Skunk train was a weird idea. I always wanted to ride a train. You know, like the gorgeous ones in the movies. That is not this train. This train is the real thing, the tracks are the real thing. Pretty soon we should be going through the Redwoods. For a two-hour jaunt, It is taking way too long.

I stand up and stretch my legs. My seat mate grunts and scoots closer to the window. I step out into the isle and then sit down in the seat just behind where I was, one seat closer to the man. I can almost feel him flinch. I am getting jittery. The train slows down. We are still in the middle of nowhere. We are stopping.

“Mr. Howard! Mr. Howard? Are you here, sir?”

A nicely dressed young man stepped into the now completely still train. His eyes lit up when they rested on the man behind me. “Mr. Howard, how are you, sir? We didn’t get your message till early this morning. I hope we are in time.”

Everyone’s eyes are very aware now as they look at the man. He grips the seat in front of him and pulls himself up. It seems like he is taking a moment to gather himself, he takes a deep breath and with some effort, stands up straight. He looks around and smiles. It’s a nice smile.

“Some of you think because you didn’t let any emotion show on your face, you can play the part of an android. You are wrong. Androids are close to humans in intellect and emotions. There is no right or wrong way to act like them, but you must portray them as human. This woman, (he points at me) is a fine example of what I am looking for. She portrayed an android so realistically she seemed human. Especially when she tried to rescue me. Thank you … what is your name?” “I’m EmmaLou Johnson. And sir, I am a human. I am a human!” I almost cried, I almost shouted! When was the last time I felt human? Before my husband left me? Not since, until now. I looked at the people that had me so worried. Worried because they had expressed no emotions, had refused to even look out the windows of the train to see the incredible scenery or even at each other. There is something welling up inside me now. I flat out hugged Mr. Howard, and he certainly is expressing some emotion now!