The dreaming stranger

They say that ‘hard work never sleeps’, but Louise hated working late, especially in the winter months when slumber seemed so much more essential, and she hurried to the station through the cold February air, the pavements slick with damp and city grime. All she wanted was the warmth of the train carriage and a quiet seat where she could let the familiar journey home numb her after a demanding day at the office. But as she reached her platform, Louise was dismayed to discover all the carriages full. The only empty seat she could find was beside a man in a dark coat, slumped against the window, seemingly asleep. His black shoulder length hair was swept back but had fallen a little over his eyes and his leather gloved hands rested lightly on his lap.

Louise tried not to disturb the slumbering man and sat quietly in her seat as, with a slight groan, the train pulled away from the station, passing the flickering office windows, heading out towards the suburbs and towns. She stared past the man next to her, gazing at her reflection next to his in the window, the darkness beyond, punctured by the city lights.

As the train made its way, the stranger slept, evidently undisturbed by the steady stream of passengers disembarking at each stop. They left the city and passed through a number of smaller towns, leaving the carriage almost deserted.

Louise shifted a little and considered moving to an empty double seat to stretch out. She looked at her watch, more of a gesture than intention, carefully gathered her things, conscious to not disturb the sleeping man, and stood. Then, all at once, a great screeching of metal on metal. Louise was thrown forward. The train juddered to a sudden halt. Louise was hurled back into her seat, narrowly avoiding the man at her side. There were murmurs, a man cursed out loud and a baby cried in the neighbouring carriage.

Louise hastily re-composed herself. She rubbed her elbow where it had hit the armrest and wondered if her day could get any worse after so many long meetings and tedious documents. She straightened her coat and turned towards the man in the seat next to her. “I’m so sorry…” She didn’t finish as a voice came over the tannoy.

“We apologise for this unplanned stop…” a pause. Then, “...there’s been an incident just along the line. Please remain in your seats.” The guard's voice implied calmness but Louise couldn’t help noticing it seemed a little unsteady.

The man beside her stirred. "Ah," he said softly as he straightened. "So it wasn't all just a dream.” He looked at Louise. “Or perhaps it still is."

Louise turned towards him. His eyes were now open - a faint hint of amusement in their dark green depths.

"The train stopped. I’m sorry I woke you. You were asleep."

"I was," he turned to regard her properly. "And you were there, in my dream. It was definitely you. Peculiar, isn't it?"

She gave a cautious smile. "That's quite a coincidence," she said carefully, whilst at the same time, wondering how she could politely excuse herself and move to another seat.

The stranger continued. "Perhaps, or perhaps not. In my dream, you stood up to change seats. And then the train stopped." His hands moved across his lap as he turned further towards her. "Just as it did now."

Louise wasn’t sure whether the man was trying some terrible chat-up line or he was just a quirky character. But there was an old-world charm about him. His posture, his voice, even his faint dusky scent. Everything about him felt as though it belonged in another place and time. Her instincts told her to be careful, but there was something about his demeanour that she couldn’t quite define, and it made her curious.

"So you're saying you dreamed what was going to happen?"

"I think so," he said. "I’m quite sure I remember it correctly, but dreams are such slippery things, there one moment, gone the next.”

“Oh, I know that feeling,” Louise said kindly, “I have the weirdest dreams sometimes, but as soon as I wake up, they’re gone, I can never remember them.”

“I can remember this dream… most of it. I was able to control it and shape it as I wanted… with your assistance.”

Louise looked out into the darkness. The window reflected only their faces and the eerie blue flickering of emergency lights somewhere nearby. “So what were you able to control?” She tried to humour him, keeping her tone light.

“You asked me if a person could change something while they were dreaming. Not just to dream it, but for their dreamed choices to force something to happen outside of the dream. Like those dreams you’ve been having recently…” A small smile passed across the man’s lips, and then disappeared. “You asked me if my dream could stop a train. Then you stood up, as I said before.”

Louise shifted uncomfortably, and glanced away. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, thinking how he was taking a lucky guess about her dreams.

“Is it? Are we both dreaming now? When did my dream suddenly become reality, or was it real all along? You asked me if I could stop the train… and well, here we are. Every choice made in a dream plays through into reality.”

Louise leaned back slightly, scanning the man’s face for clues as to whether this was a silly charade, or whether he genuinely believed what he was saying. She rarely remembered her own dreams. Her job at the law firm was draining and sleep always came quickly, over before it had barely begun. Though recently the patterns of her dreams had shifted, with unfamiliar faces and words that she knew had been there, but could never fully remember on waking.

The train creaked gently in the stillness as the few remaining passengers sat quietly, waiting for the mysterious ‘incident’ to be resolved. The guard walked through the carriage, his face tired looking and pale as he glanced about uneasily. Whatever had happened, no one would say.

“Why doesn’t anyone tell us what’s happening?” said Louise, frustration edging in like an unseen shadow as she realised the lateness of the hour. “I’ve had such a long day and was just hoping for a normal journey home.”

The man smiled, a glint of something in those green eyes of his. He tucked his hair back behind his ears. “No one really wants just ‘normal’ do they? Miss...?”

“Louise.”

“A pleasure,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’m Smithwell.”

“Just Smithwell?”

“For now.”

“Well, it’s certainly interesting to talk to you.”

“And you.” His words hung in the air, leaving Louise unsure what to do with them, and whether now would be a good time to finish the conversation.

Minutes passed and the two fell into silence. Louise pondered what Smithwell could have meant. What was the choice he’d made in his dream? How could he have caused the train to stop? Then she questioned her sanity that she was even asking herself such a thing. She decided that the man was quite obviously a fantasist, or even a little unhinged. She began to wish that the ‘incident’, whatever it was, would be over soon so she could go home. She desperately wanted to climb into bed, where she could dream normal, everyday sort of dreams.

The guard made his way back through the carriage. He seemed distracted and at odds with himself. When he moved towards Louise he slowed his pace. Smithwell had turned his face back towards the night on the other side of the window, staring blankly into the nothingness. The guard paused, looked at Louise, raised his eyebrows and mouthed ‘are you okay?’ She nodded briefly in return, wondering why he would ask such a thing.

A short while later, when Louise got up to use the lavatory, the guard intercepted her at the end of the carriage.

"Are you all right Miss?" He was an older man. Moustached and heavily booted.

"Yes, thanks. Just want to get home really. Like we all do I suppose."

“I thought I’d check, that’s all,” the guard lowered his voice, “it’s just that, the man you’re sitting next to. He seems a bit odd, if you know what I mean. I can’t help feeling I’ve seen him before… can’t quite place him though..."

"I’ll be okay, thanks,” said Louise, slightly taken aback by the guard’s words. “I think he just wanted to talk."

"Well, as long as you’re sure…"

Louise looked back down the carriage. Smithwell was still gazing out of the window. Nothing about him appeared threatening or sinister. Just odd. Louise felt sure she could cope with that. She’d had enough practice dealing with some of the men at the office.

“Thank you for being so thoughtful though,” said Louise.

"There’s just something about him. A bit nightmarish somehow…" the guard’s voice tailed off and he gazed blankly into the darkness. Then blinking, as if remembering himself, he continued. "If you want, when we arrive at your stop, let me walk you through the station. I’ll be finishing my shift there. Just follow me and I’ll make sure you get off okay."

Louise nodded slowly, noticing a glazed expression misting across the guard’s eyes. "Okay," she said hesitantly, and then ducked into the lavatory.

When she returned to the carriage, Louise slipped back into the seat next to Smithwell without a second thought. She felt slightly annoyed, defensive even, that the guard had suggested that something about him might be ‘off’. At least she had someone to pass away the time with whilst the ‘incident’ was dealt with. Despite the long day and the delay in getting home, she was feeling oddly at ease and the warmth of the carriage seemed to comfort her.

“You’ve done this before,” she said with lightness in her voice as she sat down, “started conversations with strangers on trains.”

“I’ve had many conversations, though not all of them have been on trains.” Smithwell turned his face away from the window. “And not all of them while I’ve been awake!”

Louise smiled to herself. There was no danger in this man and she found herself more drawn to him and his absurd theories. Though, as she felt the train suddenly shunt forward and begin to resume its journey, the guard’s peculiar words fleeted across her mind, and an unexpected sense of relief swept over her.

Outside, blue lights pulsed, heading away into the distance, and as the train made its way through the open country, the world beyond the window continued to keep its secrets. No one mentioned the ‘incident’, only an announcement over the tannoy, thanking passengers for their patience.

Louise glanced towards Smithwell. He was watching, as though gaining the measure of her. Louise felt her cheeks flush under his gaze. She had no boyfriend as such but Smithwell’s eyes held something, emitting something as he looked at her, and she felt that perhaps she’d been too friendly, perhaps giving him the wrong impression.

“I wonder what the hold up was?” she said, trying to stick to a safe subject, away from Smithwell’s riddles. “It’s odd that they haven’t let us know anything.”

Smithwell steered again. “I think we both know more about what happened than anyone else on this train. Don’t you?”

“I really don’t know what you mean.” Louise felt almost as though he were accusing her. “All that stuff you said before about me being in your dream and you dreaming the train to stop… that was just all nonsense surely!” She tried to keep a focus on reality. Smithwell’s words sounded fantastical but she knew none of it could be true.

Smithwell tilted his head. "That depends on the dream and the dreamer. If they are both real, which I believe we both are, then the dream begins to twist into reality."

“Well, whatever it was, I’m pretty certain I had nothing to do with it. I know what’s real and what’s not. I just finished work, got on this train… and then, well, I’ve been talking to you for so long now, I really don’t know where the time has gone. At least we’re on our way now.”

"We are indeed.” Again, Smithwell turned the conversation his way. “When we met, I was dreaming, and now I'm not. Maybe you brought me into your dream? Will we perhaps part company as though in a dream together?"

Louise gave a small gasp, as Smithwell’s words sent a chill running over her. "You’ve completely lost me now," she said hastily, as a sense of unease slipped through the darkness toward her.

"Perhaps it is I who is lost.” His voice became distant, his green eyes almost looking through the young woman at his side, as though she were not there at all. “Perhaps I am just a man who took a wrong turn and dreamed a world where he didn’t quite belong anymore.”

Louise had no answer to that and her instinct, ebbing back and forth like an evening tide, told her it was time to end the conversation. She pulled her bag onto her lap and began to rise. “Well, it’s been really interesting talking to you Smithwell,” she said, not looking at him, but glancing down the carriage towards the doors. “My stop is coming up next. So, I’d better go. I hope you get home okay.”

“It’s been a pleasure.” Smithwell smiled with his lips but not his eyes. “Maybe we’ll meet again. Perhaps in a dream. Perhaps not.”

Louise stood at the doors, rocking slightly from side to side with the motion of the train, trying to shake off the feeling of disquiet from Smithwell’s words. Her stop was a good five minutes away, but she was tired, her bed was calling her and standing at the doors made her feel a step closer to home and normality.

At her stop, the guard opened the train door, then followed her onto the platform. As the train moved off, Louise waited a moment, feeling compelled, despite his slightly disturbing parting words, to wave goodbye to Smithwell. But when his window moved past her, he wasn’t there.

It was late and Louise followed the guard through the quiet station. All the other passengers had gone. She had never been there so late at night before and found the place eerily quiet. There was a payphone in the waiting room and rather than take the fifteen minute walk home in the dark, she felt it would be sensible to call a taxi.

In the waiting room, the guard, who still seemed to have lost the assuring manner that a train guard should convey, opened a small door to the side of the ticket counter, and gestured for Louise to go through.

"There’s a telephone in the office you can use.” He rubbed his eyes like a small boy who had stayed up too late. “It won’t cost you anything. I just need to go and check the gates. Won’t be a moment."

She stepped inside, heading towards the corner where the telephone sat on a small desk. The guard closed the door. Louise picked up the receiver.

A soft click sounded behind her. Louise turned. Something wasn’t right. She replaced the receiver with a thunk and hastened across the room. She pulled at the door handle. It didn’t budge. She rattled it, convinced she was turning it the wrong way. But the door was locked.

"Hey," she called out, her voice catching. "What's going on?"

Only the ticking of the large clock on the wall behind her answered.

“Come on, you’ve locked me in! Let me out please!” Panic rose in her chest. Her breath quickened. After everything that had happened that day, it all became too much. Overwhelmed and frantic with confusion she felt her body begin to shake uncontrollably. Then, in what could only have been seconds, but seemed like hours, she felt a dizzying sense of both relief and fear as she heard the approach of heavy footsteps.

The door opened. Louise breathed deeply, trying to steady herself. The guard stepped inside, a whimsical smile across his face.

“The door… it locked somehow…” she stammered. “I’ll go now. I’ll just walk home. It doesn’t matter about the taxi…” She motioned towards the door. But the guard moved a step towards her. Then, a second set of footsteps - lighter and quicker. Louise stepped away, back towards the desk. Her pulse quickened, hot in her temples.

Smithwell stood in the doorway. His eyes calm, hair smoothed back, leather gloved hands resting at his sides. His mouth twitched slightly.

Louise searched the room for answers. Her stomach knotted, her mind racing and torn, trying to make sense of who she could trust.

She looked at the guard, tears springing in her eyes. “What the hell’s going on?” Then to Smithwell, “Help me… please?”

The guard met her eyes. "Sorry, miss. I’m not sure what’s happening. I’ve not felt right since I woke up this morning… such weird dreams lately… I didn’t sign up for this, really I didn’t, but… he asked for you specifically." He stepped to the side, allowing the other man to enter the small room.

Smithwell held her with his stare, moving towards her, his deep green eyes entangled in hers. "Funny thing about dreams, Louise,” he said. “Sometimes, you wake up inside someone else’s."

He tapped his head lightly. “So, here is the question. Is it I who is in your dream… or you who is in mine?”

The guard disappeared as the door clicked shut. The room dimmed. Louise stood frozen, caught between terror and disbelief - so lucid that it could only be real.

“Welcome,” Smithwell whispered, “to our new reality.”