The Birthday Station

A man was standing at the train station. I immediately noticed it. I was on my usual route home when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I forced my board to a full stop and looked at him. 

There was a man in a tuxedo standing on the platform of the long-abandoned train station. It struck me as fascinating, but also weird, and suddenly I felt the instinct to run. It’s the ability to defy our instincts without being trained that makes us human, that’s what I’ve always believed. It’s that ability that allowed me to walk toward the man, instead of hopping on my hoverboard and getting home by six like I was supposed to. 

The man was facing me, but very focused on his phone, and occasionally on his watch. He was waiting for something, hopefully not the train, because it would never come. As subtly as I could, I walked over the tracks and to the platform, but halfway across the man looked up and saw me. 

“That’s not very safe,” He said. His voice hinted at a deep richness, but at the moment it was hoarse, as if he’d just had a yelling match. He had an American accent too, like my parents and almost half of the adult population living in England. Hardly anyone stayed in their countries nowadays. 

“What? Standing on the railways?” I asked. I was beginning to feel this man wasn’t quite thinking straight. If it weren’t for the time, I would’ve assumed he was just a drunk guy on his way home from a party. 

“Yeah, though you’re making it sound like it’s a normal thing to do.” 

“Well- it’s not like there’s a train coming,” I said, finally crossing the tracks and stepping on the platform. 

“Of course there isn’t.” He deadpanned, “Nevertheless, you’re still not very safe.”

“How so?” I asked.

“You can’t say approaching a stranger alone in the middle of nowhere is an okay thing to do.”

“Oh,” He had me there. “Yes. I suppose you’re right, but you don’t seem like the kidnapping type.”

“I’d love to know what you consider the kidnapping type.” He said, smiling. There was something hidden behind the smile, some sort of sadness. He stood quietly as he waited for my answer, but I wasn’t there to chat, I was investigating.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked. I glanced at his watch, 5:17. Too weird a time for anyone to be coming. 

“Nothing.” He answered pleasantly, “I’m not lying and you know it. You find that frustrating, don’t you?”

“How-” I frowned, refusing to play along, “If you’re not lying, why would you check your watch so often while waiting for nothing?”

“I’m not checking my watch anymore.” He answered, he’d been waiting for me. That was both chilling and intriguing. I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I studied the man. He looked around fifty. His hair was silver and plentiful, it was going to stay that way until the day he died. His eyes were a hazel so faded it bordered on grey. I wondered if they’d always been like that. Everything about the man seemed a tired, faded grey. Except for his black tuxedo, which contrasted enormously. 

“Am I trustworthy?” The man asked. I looked up at him, confused by the question, “Weren’t you reading me?” he said, reading my expression. 

“No,” I answered, I’d done that earlier. 

“Okay then, I think it’s time for you to ask me my name.” 

“Why don’t you just tell me?” I said. The man bewildered me and I appreciated it. I wasn’t often perplexed.

“Henry Snow-Allard,” He said, once again reading my expression.

“Am I supposed to know you?” I asked. It struck me that maybe he was just another celebrity trying to get close to my father through me. That was a pretty common thing when you were the son of the man who saved the earth and colonized Platnus. It brought a sour taste to my mouth.

“Nope, but now you do. So you’ll recognize me next time.” 

“Next time? I don’t get it, where are you going with this?” Henry slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a fancy-looking pocket knife.

“Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday Neo,” He said, his hoarse voice cracking, “Life’s rough.” I looked at the knife for a long time, and then at Henry. The melancholic, faded man, who knew my name and was waiting for me at the abandoned train station to wish me a happy birthday. It seemed impossible that there wasn’t more to the story, so I took the knife to see what would happen next, but as soon as it left Henry’s hand he disappeared. 

I never told my family about him, they probably would’ve hunted him down and killed him. A simple stalker in their machine-like minds. I searched for him, through research and exploration, but Henry was a ghost. The only link I had to him was the train station, and I made sure to check it every day. During school days I’d ride past it on my way home, on weekends I’d sneak out of my house and go. When I went on trips to Platnus with my family I installed cameras around the station and watched them for at least an hour daily. He didn’t reappear until my next birthday.

***

“Hello.” Henry said with a smile as I ran onto the station platform. 

“Hi,” I answered, catching my breath, then asking the one question that had been nagging me since I’d last seen him on my seventh birthday, “Who are you?” 

“You don’t remember me? I tried to look the same.” He said, looking a little disappointed. He was indeed wearing the same tuxedo as last time, and had the same grey hair and faded appearance. The only difference was that he seemed a little happier, which I supposed was a good thing, and his voice wasn’t hoarse.

“Yes, I recognize you, but I searched you up. Even borrowed my father’s computer without permission to search the government records. You don’t exist.”

“Oh,” Henry said, looking pleased with himself, “Well I’m not from around here.” 

“You mean earth? Because you weren’t on the moon’s records or Platnus’ or any spatial stations either.”

“You’ll know in a few years, I can’t tell you, might rush things.” He answered, he was enjoying his mysterious act. I wondered if he was making it all up and he was just some hobo living under a bridge. That wouldn’t explain the fancy clothing though, and even homeless people had records. I wracked my brain for any explanation that fit. I needed to know.

“Are you from the future?” I asked. Henry chuckled.

“The answer to that is very complicated, Neo. Don’t stress yourself so much, you’ll know in time.” 

“You sound like my dad,” I grumbled. No one ever answered questions. It left me constantly having to figure things out on my own. Maybe I’d stop asking, it was a waste of time.

“I was trying to sound like you.” Henry said, his eyes gaining that familiar sadness.

“I answer people’s questions.” 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” He pulled out a thin black box and handed it to me,”Happy Birthday.” I seemed to have hurt him. I didn’t know why he cared how I felt towards him, but his sorry expression calmed me down and I took the box. The box was made of metal and had a matt black finish, it was the type of box that you slide the lid out of, and that was what I did. A pencil and three charcoal crayons were revealed, along with a grey kneaded eraser. I’d only gotten into drawing a month ago and was having trouble finding supplies, since everyone created digitally nowadays. I looked back at Henry, but once again he was gone. 

***

“You are from the future.” I said a year later, on my ninth birthday, “What do I have to do with it?” 

“Nothing,” Henry answered, “Yet. I’m not really from the future though.” I dismissed his last comment as a lie.

“Am I going to save the world?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t. My father was a very damaged man. 

“You’re going to save many worlds, Neo,” He said, “You’re going to save me.” I looked him up and down. Was he related to me? I had checked the records again, he wasn’t born yet.

“How much of the future is going to change because you’re talking to me?” Every spare moment I had was spent speculating about all the implications meeting this man had.

“None, you’re too responsible to let my recklessness affect anything.” Henry had brought a wrapped gift this time, he held it out for me to take but I shook my head.

“ Every time I take the present you disappear, I still want to talk to you.” I said, Henry smiled, cockily.

“Watch this,” He began, “I learnt it from you.” He dropped the gift and by reflex I caught it and he disappeared. I groaned and refused to open it for quite a while. Nevertheless, curiosity beat me and once I got home I carefully unwrapped it. There were several sketchbooks, all empty but one. It was a roughened up and aged copy of a sketchbook I had filled throughout the year. Henry liked to toy with me. 

***

On my tenth birthday I was at the station early, having just left a disastrous argument with my parents. They wanted to take me to a fair on Platnus for my birthday, as a normal family thing. They always wanted to be a normal family. Naturally I couldn’t be on another planet and miss Henry, so I threw a very childlike tantrum and refused to step out of my room. My father got mad and called me ungrateful, my mother tried to reason with me logically. Eventually they both left me alone and I came over to the station. It was horrible and annoying of me, I knew that, but I’d been so good for so long. I thought I deserved a break. It was a terrible way of thinking. 

“Hello.” Henry’s voice came from behind, and I turned around. He was wearing the same suit, same watch, same face but slightly older. There were some grains of grey sand stuck in the folds of his suit. Not even Platnus had grey sand. 

“The first time we met, you acted like walking on the tracks was a dangerous thing, do trains exist in the future?” I asked.

“Well you sure love to skip the pleasantries don’t you?” Henry answered with a chuckle.

“Do I not in the future?” I said excitedly. With time I’d begun to think of the future me as a separate person, someone I could meet. 

“You’ve got it all wrong.” Henry sighed.

“How?” I pressed, Henry ran a hand through his hair tiredly.

“Fine, you want a taste of it? I’ll give you one.” His hand dropped to his side but lifted again as he crossed his arms, “I was born two years before you in the general timeline, in a world that is far behind this one’s advancements. We met in another world several years before we’re born and I decided to come to talk to you the year my wife died, which in this world was the year you turned seven but is several years in the future in the world in which you died.” I didn’t try to figure out what he’d just said. I had to memorize it so I could analyse it later, I didn’t want any distractions.

“Give me my gift.” I said.

“What?” Henry looked surprised, I held out my hands to grab it.

“Just give it to me.” I repeated, Henry obliged and I ran home as quickly as possible to write it all down.

***

Henry did not show up on my eleventh birthday, or my twelfth, or thirteenth, or fourteenth. I had quickly come to the conclusion that I had done something wrong, and I’d never see him again. I had studied what he’d told me and found that many worlds existed, each with a separate timeline. It was why everything was so complicated with Henry, he travelled between worlds. I had encountered personal problems a bit after my twelfth birthday. Henry became a thing of the past. I discovered that my parents had also done inter-world travels. After searching in vain for a solution all over my world, I might have to follow their footsteps. Just this once.

 Henry Snow-Allard had prepared me to deal with my problems, and on my fifteenth birthday I stood on the train platform. On the ground in front of me was a device that opened portals between worlds. I was wearing a blue jacket that had only really fit me recently, it was the last gift I’d received from Henry. I glanced at the tracks and waited, not for the train, but for the portal to open, and when it did, I stepped through.