"Trip Along the Railways"

"Trip Along the Railways"

By Carol Ann Keefer

           So here you are standing on the edge of an adventure, one false move, and you'd be swept away into an unknown world. A world that beckons you to come and leave the safety of your home. One that you have known, ever since your birth into this somewhat strange family.

           How did it start? You have asked yourself countless times, uh, yes, it was a letter from a friend inviting you to come and visit their home. Was it the invitation, or was it your desire to set out against your father's wishes. 

           But wait a minute you say in your defense; it was the cries that echo in the middle of the night calling you to this place, the sound of trains sailing across the iron rails that lead you here.  Here at the train station with your suitcase in hand as the sound bounces off the whitewash walls and ceilings announcing your arrival in the room.  Onlookers with their glassy stares soon dismiss you only as a wayward child, nothing more or less, just a child, lost perhaps. In the corner bench is an older man’s hunch over nursing a brown paper bag as his hands shake, some alcohol, you muttered as you passed him.

           A couple twisted like a pretzel in the far off corner, exposing their body parts, as you catch yourself staring, then quickly look away, as your face turns bright red. Across from a couple, you happen to catch a glimpse, a small woman, muttering to herself, you listen for a moment, it appears to be an argument between her and an unseen person. Dismissing her, you move on to the ticket window, greeted by an uncharacteristic male, with leftover food clinging onto his thinning beard. You find yourself memorize by the food left in his beard that you weren’t paying any attention to what he had said, as he cleared his throat.

           "Miss, how can I help you?"

                       “I, um, would like to get a ticket to Philadelphia.”

           “One way or round trip?’

                       “What?’

           “I said, one way or round trip?”

                       “Um.., how much?”

           “How much for what?”

                       “One way.”

            “That will be five dollars.”

           You started shifting from one leg to another as you frantically search your pockets for the coin purse that you had stuffed in your jeans. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch  a figure standing behind you, with a sneer, the oversize business man uttered under his breath “Will you just hurry up and pay the man.”

   “Ah!” You excitedly said as if declaring a discovery, laying down the money on the counter.  The clerk raised one eye as he counted the cash, holding your breath, waiting to see if it’s enough.  While the man behind you is cursing under his breath, annoyed at his impatience, you focus on the clerk. When he announces, “You’re a nickel short.” 

           “Oh?” licking your lower lip, “I’m, um..,” shoveling your hands in the pockets, searching for one more nickel, in complete desperation, you boldly said, “I’m sorry, but, well, can you give me a break?”

           “Here, take this,” as the man behind you shoves a nickel in your hand, glancing back; you started to say, “Thank…” he rudely said, “Just pay the man and leave.”  Taking your coin, the clerk hands you a ticket, relieve you glance down at the time for your departure, okay, I’ve got some time as you scurry off to the restroom, after all, you prefer not to use the bathroom on the train, that will be gross you say under your breath.

           Outside, a few more travelers join you on the platform, the couple that for now, at least, were only holding hands. The small woman, clutched her old worn carpetbag, tilting your head, you can hear her arguing with that invisible person. Just to the right where you stand, the oversize business man puffs on a cigar, blowing smoke in your direction. Coughing you move closer to that small woman, trying not to pay attention to her conversation, finding yourself listening

           “Are  you’ uns  coming or not?”

                       “What’d you’ uns mean you’ uns aren’t coming?”

           “Well, I’m going without you’ uns.”  Shaking her head as she stomps away from the patrons waiting for the train to arrive.  As a few onlookers point at her and laugh, you, however, understand the woman, more than most. What is it about that lady, oh yes, she is a lot like your mother, what was that one word you don’t like.  Crazy, yes that’s the word,   With a narrow gaze you watch her, part of you feel the need to protect her, and yet, you rather keep your distance. A small reminder of what your world is like, or was, that somehow you miss your mom, who is now safely locked away.  

           Is this what drove you here? And not the cries of the train whistle in the middle of the night.  No, shaking your head, it was because of the invitation, nothing more.  Unfolding the letter, you read it one more  time:

            Ann,

                       It was nice seeing you again at the youth camp. My sister and I would like to have you come and visit us sometime. 

                       Your friend,

                                   Evie

           In the distance is a faint cry of a train whistle, butterflies flutter somewhere deep in your stomach, as doubts clutter your mind. Clutching tightly on your suitcase, hands start to sweat, nervously you wait for the train to pull up and stop; “ All aboard!” the conductor yells, like the clanging of the train, “All aboard!’

Slowly the patron's file in, with the help of the conductor, they disappear in the mental beast, next in line is a middle-age lady as she holds onto the man's hand joining those who had gone on before. Now it is your turn, taking a moment you glance around unsure of yourself to go or to run back home. A shoved, as you launch forward, losing your balance when out of nowhere, a hand reaches out to stop you from falling. Out of the corner of your eye, that woman smiled and said, “Are you’ uns okay?” You quickly nod and walk among the seats that line the sides of the coach, with a narrow gaze, you notice that couple, tuck away in the back of the car. 

                      In the middle seat, a young woman with two anxious children looks up at you as you pass by, as one child waves, “Hi.” Turning you smile and wave deciding where to seat, feeling a tap on your shoulder making you stop and look, that woman again, you shuddered. 

           “Would you’ uns like to join us?”

                       “Uh, us?”

                                   “No, she can’t  sit here.”

           “Now, don’t you’ uns pay any attention to that one.” gesturing to the empty seat next to herself

                       “Um.., I don’t want to interrupt.”

           “No, she’s not interrupting us.”

                                   “Yes, she’s is.”

                       “Are you sure?” you quietly said

           “Yes, you’ uns can sit here and keep me from boring conversations.”

                       “Okay, thanks.” Looking out of the window as the train started to jerk forward, leaving behind the station soon with speed, the scenery blends together. Time passes by, giving little attention to the woman sitting next to you, not wanting to get too familiar with her, and whatever problem she has. Content with her silence now you can start planning what to say when you get to the train station downtown Philadelphia.  After all, the letter did read that Evie was looking forward to your visit, right?”

           “Yes,” you muttered to yourself, then you hear “Yes,” whispered in your ear, drawing your attention from the window, there the lady next to you with a grin said, “Yes.”

           “What did you say?’you immediately said

                       “We agree with you,’ uns.”

           “Oh, that’s great,” with a roll of your eyes, focusing your attention back to the window, wishing that this lady would keep her comments to herself. 

           “My name is Maybe, and this one’s name is Suzzy.” Gesturing toward the vacant seat in front of them. “Excuse, but she prefers, Sue.”

           “Oh, it’s nice to meet you.”

                       “What’s you’ un’s name?”

           “Ann,” you softly answered. 

                                   “Ann’s a nice name.” Maybe commented

                                               “Yes” – “Sue agrees.”

Pulling up to the next stop, the conductor announces Ambler Station, Ambler Station, watching the woman with a narrow gaze as she gathers her belongs, a simple carpetbag making a slight turn she said “You’uns coming to, Suzzy” with a chuckle. As you watch her hopple down the aisle passed the empty seats, she or they are now gone.

Pulling out the letter once more, scanning over each sentence, wondering if you have overlooked something, Evie did say that she wanted you to come for a visit.  Uncertainty starts to well up whether or not; you are doing the right thing by taking a chance to visit your friend's family. So engrossed with the reading of the letter, you barely glance up from the paper to even notice the mother with her two loud teenage girls coming bouncing down the aisle.  Plop, with a quick gaze, and there she sat right next to you, this, a girl who quickly said,” Hi, my name is Jasmine.” Shifting to one side, you look out of the window, avoiding any eye contact with this girl who, for an ungodly reason, sat down next to you.

“No, her name is Julie, not Jasmine,” her sister yelled just from a few seats behind you. “My name is Jasmine” the girl yelled back, hearing this noise, you soon notice that the other passengers are whispering, and from the looks of it they too are getting annoyed from this “circus.”

“Now, now girls, please behave,” their mother strictly announced.

           “Hi,” Julie repeated, “My name is Julie.” With a slide glance, you take notice that she is only a few years younger than yourself, amuse, you smile, continuing to look out of the window.

“Um.., Hi,” arbitrarily, you respond, “HI,” drawing your attention away from the window. “What’s your name?

           “My is Ann”

“So, where are you going?”

           “Uh, what?”

 “I said, where are you going?”

           “ To visit a friend in Philadelphia” is your quick response. You want nothing more than some peace.

           “That’s where we are going, the three of us.”  Your thoughts returning to the letter, as Julie’s voice trails off into the background, nothing more than blah, blah.., until she said, “Excuse me, but I am talking.”

“What?” as her voice interrupted your thoughts.

           “I was saying about our trip to the city.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

           “That’s okay,” Julie said just as she got up and left, relieved that now, perhaps, you will be left alone the remainder of the trip. 

With the gentle rocking of the train, your eyelids start to close, as a feeling of peace settles around you. Anxious thoughts disappear, giving way to the hope that you are doing the right thing coming to the city.  Grown faint is the noises of other people's conversations drowned by the sound of the wheels as they sail across the iron rails.

Dozing off, you feel a gentle touch, “Excuse me, miss, but would you like a sandwich?” Blinking your eyes, you notice a familiar face, the mother of those two girls holding a bologna sandwich. “Yes, thank you.”, grateful for her thoughtfulness, you take the first bite; actually, this was the first thing you had to eat since earlier this morning.

“Ann, may I ask a question?” she said, “Do your parents know where you are?”

“Yess,” you stuttered, “At least my dad does.”

           “What about your mother?”

“She’s, um.., not home right now.” Glancing away from her face, ashamed, for you know where your mother is, and well, it’s just something you rather not talk about, especially with a stranger.

           “Oh, I’m sorry, Ann,” the mother said, “Please, forgive me, having two lively girls that I do, I just, well, am concern about you being all alone like this.”

“Thank you, but I am going to visit a friend’s family.”

           “Well, if you need someone to talk to that understands girls, I am willing to listen.” 

           You want to talk to her; actually, you need to speak to someone, why not her?   “Ma’ ma, if you don’t mind, I would like to talk to you.” She sits down next to you, and for the first time since you were twelve, here is a woman, mother that shows love to her daughters, but also you. First, you start as if you are tracing forgotten steps as old memories tucked away in a box. Beginning where you were twelve and how your mother saw un-named faces in the kitchen tile floor, twisting a strand of hair, you speed up to where she is put away in the State Hospital for the insane—leaving out the bickering between your parents, harsh words spoken out of hate and frustration.

“I am sorry, my dear child.” As you feel her warm embrace, tears fall for the first time, as the weight lifted from your heart.  With other younger hands wap around you, in between your tears, Julie and her sister Jeannie are there as well.

So what you were looking for, perhaps you have found it here with some strangers. An invitation from a friend is that why you left your home or was it an adventure to a world unknown?

As the train pulled into the station, the mother, Ms. Phyllis, said, “ Take care of yourself, Ann,” and with a narrow gaze, you watch the three of them blend in with the crowd of travelers.  Then in the distance, you spot Evie and her sister Lori excitedly run up to you, welcoming you, making the final trip to their home.

The End.