A Ride Home

The game of 'eye spy' not only entertains the bored, but the curious. For a boy as young as Chance wouldn't mind being rude; he'll stare at anything that either bothers or intrigues him. 

Sitting dazed in golden afternoon light, Chance watched the white particles drift and disappear. His eyes then looking at his seat, an untouched soft chair. Baby blue. Wingback. Linen. He then set his eyes on the window; fields of wild grass danced as the mountains laid on distant skies. Hidden behind the left mountaintop was the sun, moving ever so slowly as it followed Chance. Following him as he rode upon a train. 

Chance forgot he was on a ride. The train felt so sluggish, yet the world outside said otherwise. Even with no bumps or lumps to jolt the train; everyone remained in their seats. Seats. Chance looked at everyone's seat. Some were wingbacks and others better, according to Chance. Some even uncomfortable wooden stools. The chairs felt randomly placed to Chance, because not one matched the next. All different shapes and sizes, means and medium. Despite the overbearing differences, all the furniture were lined horizontally. Facing away from the window and towards the people in front of them. The last thing Chance did, was look at the people seating in these bizarre arrangements. Whether in a poor looking chair or in the grandest of them all, everyone wore the same fitted clothes. Even Chance, who just noticed he was wearing the same pants and button up. 

The longer Chance lingered, the more he came to realize he enjoyed the color of his chair. On his left, however, was the ugliest color he'd ever seen. A bright shade of red. Its vibrant colors stabbed Chance's eyes. 

"Hey, do you like the color of your chair?" Chance asked the stranger. 

The man blinked three times before speaking, "oh. Why, yes. It just so happens to be my favorite color." 

Chance looked to his right, he saw an ugly mustard yellow. Forgetting his 

previous conversation, he started another:

"Do you like your chair color?"

The woman blinked only twice before speaking, "hmm...oh. Oh yes, I do."

Chance continued on, "What were you thinking about?" 

"I was thinking back on my days. Someone as old as me tends to do that very often."

"You're not old!" Chance stated. 

"Oh, that's right. I've forgotten, you see I just look young- Oh! Why child I'm so sorry," the woman put her hand on her chest as she said this, "You don't have many memories to think back on."

Chance took great offense to this, "I do too have memories! Probably more than you do!"

At this Chance tried to think of one to share, "Oh! Me and dad were gonna build a birdhouse for the doves that visit us. My mom says they lost their nest, but my dad says they're just homeless bums." 

The woman smiled, "Ah, I remembered being a mother." 

"You must be really old to be a mom then, my mom says I make her feel old all the time."

"Oh but get this, I was a grandmother!" The woman's smile widened. 

"Ah! You don't look like how my grandma looks like!"

"It's only here that I look like this."

"Hey"

"hmm?" The lady muttered. 

Chance came to a painful realization, "Where are my parents?" 

The woman slumped back into her chair, "I really couldn't say. Have you tried looking?"

Chance couldn't believe he hadn't thought about his parents until now. Luckily he was in the same place, because his parents told him to stay where he was if lost. Sadly he broke the rule about stranger danger, but he felt so safe he didn't worry about that.

Another thing crossed his mind, he couldn't be in one place if he was on a train. He could only stay in the chair, but of course his parents were just sitting somewhere else. They had to be. A small child like him wouldn't be left alone on a train with strangers. 

Chance had a hard time leaving his chair, even with his given situation. It felt safe there. Like home. After a battle to leave home, Chance wandered down the rows of lifeless mannequins. Each face he didn't recognize. All young men or women. Children like himself were scattered about. Silver heads remained none. 

Just as Chance circled back to where his chair was, people began to get out of their seats, simultaneously. Blinking to wake up from a daydream. The train had stopped.

Chance hurried to where the exit was, perhaps his parents were waiting for him there. Or maybe he'll meet them there instead. He stood by the exit, a mix of gold and white light oozed out of it. 

One by one. A nameless face walked into the light. The endless line of people had no rush whatsoever. Impatient Chance might be, he waited. Waited until the very last person left. Not one. Not one was his parent, or even someone he recognized. 

He began to cry. All while the sun glowed beautifully. 

Not too long after, a man dressed in finer clothes than the passengers appeared right before Chance. He glowed just as bright as the exit. 

"We have arrived, please exit."

"No! My dad and mom aren't here yet!"

The man began to pull out a list, a list in which had no business in appearing out of thin air. 

"Ah... I see, they're not scheduled until about 60 years. "

"What?" Chance broke.

"They. Will not. Come. For. A long. Time," The man spoke.

"I understand. I just don't understand why they can't come with me!"

"That is because it isn't their time," The man spoke. 

Chance only sniffled, so the man continued, "follow me." The man walked out the exit, peeking his head back in, "follow me." 

Chance had never seen such a monotone fellow. Despite that he followed the man anyway, it looked like he knew more than Chance. 

Covering his face from the brightness of the sun, Chance only looked down. Slowly picking his head up, building a world with limited vision. Chance rubbed his eyes and took a look.

Butterflies. They were everywhere. Moving as slow as a drifting jellyfish. 

Although the garden was mostly of green leaves, the colorful backs of the butterflies decorated any bussel and tree they could land on, but to say Chance was in JUST a garden would be a stretch; it was the most beautiful one he had ever been in. Tall trees hung high, breathing slowly. Chance did feel a breeze, but everything moved as if there was. A constant four-way current. 

Tweets of singing came from behind leaf curtains. Along with other mysterious sounds hidden within the jungle. Its chanting did not disturb Chance in the slightest.

"Down the gold road you'll find a golden gate. Don't worry about which way, any way is the right way, " the man said. 

Chance didn't notice the gold road until it was mentioned, the light from the sun had made the world golden enough. He had forgotten why tears were on his face.

"Gabriel, why is my face sweating?" Chance asked.

"Running around will make one that way," the man said. 

"I should head home then?" Chance asked while looking up at Gabriel.

"You know the way," Gabriel turned his back away from Chance, "I'll be off on my shift, see you around."

The man then disappeared; just as a particular boy who wondered back to the gate of his home.