Dark on the Line

Lyra’s cheek rubbed up against the cold, fogged glass of the train window as the trees rushed by, each one appearing and disappearing like a still image in a zoetrope, immediately replaced by another. Her vision blurred as she watched them pass, trying to concentrate on something, anything, other than the aching pain in her chest.

It wasn’t a literal pain, but an ethereal throb that crawled beneath her ribs and nestled in the chambers of her heart. The hollow pain that could only come from the passing of a loved one.

As the train rattled and Lyra’s head vibrated on the window, she couldn’t bring herself to move even though she was uncomfortable. The rush of the scenery eased her somewhat; it meant that she didn’t have to linger on anything for too long. It gave her active mind something to do.

She drew her knees up to her chest and cradled them, staring up at the flickering lights outside. The train would barrel through the city soon enough and she would be home.

Lyra’s eyes narrowed as the lamplight flickered again, more vigorously this time. She tilted her head upwards as the train’s lights snapped off.

Gasps sounded around the train as they were plunged into empty darkness. Lyra felt her breath catch in her throat as turned to the window and saw the lamplight dwindling rapidly before it was extinguished altogether.

The train screeched sickeningly against the railway as it slowly ground to a halt.

A woman slid into the carriage immediately, a forced polite smile on her lips.

“I must ask everyone to remain in their seats while the lights are off. It appears as though we have been hit by a city-wide blackout. I have no other information, though I will keep everyone updated. Staff will be moving through the carriages to remind everyone of the safety procedures and attend to anything you may need. Thank you all for your patience and we’ll try to get you back on your journey as soon as we can.”

As she moved to the next compartment, her voice faded and was supplanted by the low buzz of panic that spread throughout the carriage. Lyra turned her head and saw a mass of people standing up in their seats, looking around the carriage. Upon further inspection, Lyra noticed only three people who remained in their seats.

Her gaze landed on a handsome gentleman who seemed to be blocking out the world via his headphones. If Lyra concentrated, she could hear the dull electronica beats pumping through his phone. The rhythm was somewhat comforting in the immense darkness.

A middle-aged couple sat a few rows behind the man, hands tightly clutched in each other’s grips. The man was whispering gentle reassurances to the woman, panic streaked across her face.

The carriage doors slid open and an elderly man stepped through, a stern look resting on his sharp features. He glanced down his nose at Lyra, who scowled back at him.

“Take your feet off the seats,” he barked.

Lyra held his gaze before silently complying, dropping her feet to the floor, feeling the solidity beneath her and taking a deep breath.

The train attendant slithered down the aisle, asking everyone to retake their seats until the lights came back on. He hadn’t bothered to ask anyone if they needed anything or offered any reassurances. He didn’t seem particularly affected by the blackout as many in their carriage had.

Lyra gazed out of the window once more, the moon lighting up the scenery as much as it could, though some tall buildings had blocked. the natural silver light that shone down from the sky.

A figure dropped into the seat next to her with a soft thump.

Lyra’s head snapped to the left and she frowned.

It was the Electronic Music Man, headphones now untethered and hanging over one shoulder.

“I hope I didn’t scare you. I just thought you might appreciate some company. Everyone else seems to have someone.”

Lyra smiled feebly, though she wasn’t sure if he could see it very well. “Thanks, I guess. Sucks for us, right?”

The man chuckled deeply as he ran a hand through his hair. “Not the greatest end to a journey, no. I’m Thomas, by the way.”

“Lyra,” she replied cautiously. “I would shake your hand but I don’t think I could see it very well.”

Thomas rooted around in the pocket of his jacket. “How about this?” He clicked a button on his phone and the torchlight sprouted from it, thick beams of light shining at the wall. Lyra blinked and adjusted to the new light source, turning to Thomas, shadows dancing across his face.

He held out his free hand and she shook it.

Lyra swallowed heavily. “You don’t seem too bothered by the blackout.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark.”

Lyra grinned. “Just what lurks within it?”

“Not that either. Darkness is just the absence of light, after all, it’s not something sinister to be feared.”

“You kind of sound like a maniacal professor from a B-horror movie from the ’90s. You know, the kind that gives lectures on serial killers to hide the fact that he is one himself.”

“You should be a writer,” Thomas muttered. “So how come you’re not scared of the blackout?”

Lyra shrugged. “There are worse things than the dark.”

Thomas seemed to understand that Lyra wasn’t going to give him any more than that and left it alone, absently playing with the light on the wall, moving it in circular motions up and down the wall.

Behind them, other passengers had seemed to turn their own lights on, the carriage lighting up like an assembly of fireflies, small pockets of lights illuminating different parts of the train.

“I wonder why people calm down so much when the lights come back on,” Lyra muttered absently.

Thomas sighed. “I have an answer, but you’re just going to say that it’s preachy and pretentious.”

Lyra gestured for him to continue anyway.

Thomas stared past Lyra and into the darkness of the exterior. “When people are surrounded by darkness, everything feels more internal. It’s like the walls are narrower than they were before, so the space around you feels more intimate. You’re left with your thoughts and, for a lot of people, that’s not a great place to be. They overthink and worry and highlight all the worst parts about themselves. When the lights come back on, they rejoice because they can concentrate on the world around them.”

Lyra wasn’t sure where to look, so she settled on finding a spot on the window where a small crack ran across the glass. “You’re right. That was pretentious.”

“Am I wrong?”

Lyra reached out and ghosted a finger across the crack. “I don’t think so.”

“I feel like you’re that type of person. You seem very introspective.”

Lyra shrugged. “Not usually.”

“That’s…all I get?”

Lyra stared at him, confused.

Thomas smiled easily. “Look, we might be stuck here for hours before the lights come back on again. Who knows? The least we can do is pass the time.”

“You want to pass the time?” Lyra snapped, a little too aggressively. “Count the bricks on that building over there or count to two million in your head. Don’t try to psychoanalyse me based on one conversation.”

Thomas held up his hand, inadvertently shining the light in Lyra’s eye. She flinched away from her and rested her head on the window again, her finger all but stroking the crack in the glass now.

“I can…move?”

Lyra thought about that for a moment before shaking her head. “You don’t have to. Sorry.”

“Hey, no you were right. We just met, I have no business prying into your life.”

They were plunged into an awkward silence, something that Lyra thought was worse than the aberrant darkness in many ways. Silence could be filled, but often the way it lingered unnerved her. 

It reminded her of the funeral just days before, the silence that was only pierced by the obnoxious shriek of a baby and the sparse sniffles of the attendees.

In Lyra’s mind was simply silence. She felt no tears smart in her eyes, no sobs bubbling in her throat, just an empty void that washed over her the moment her mother had flatlined. She had slowly begun to chip away at the thick dome that loomed over her, poking small holes in the facade that enveloped her, small slivers of light shining through.

“I’m not afraid of the dark because bad things still happen in the light of day.”

Thomas released a breath. “Damn it, you made me lose count. I was up to sixty-two bricks.”

Lyra let a small smile creep upon her lips.

“But that makes sense,” Thomas continued. “That’s a smart answer.”

“I feel comfortable in the dark,” Lyra countered. “There’s a serenity to it that I think most people miss in their raw panic.”

The calming woman who had announced the blackout returned at the back of their carriage.

“Attention everyone, the city officials are working to restore power and get us off and rolling soon. Until then, I’ll be bringing the refreshments trolley through each carriage. Everything is on the house until we get back up and running.”

She smiled at everyone before moving back through the train, stopping in front of Lyra.

“Is everything okay, ma’am?” The woman looked concerned, looking to Thomas with a frown.

Lyra nodded slowly. “Yes, thank you. We’re okay.”

The woman looked as though she was about to speak, but thought better of it. 

“We should get some waters,” Thomas said.

Lyra nodded easily, smiling politely at the woman as she rushed off to fetch the refreshments trolley.

Two hours later, Lyra was about ready for the lights to come back on. She and Thomas had taken sandwiches and bottles of water from the refreshments trolley and continued to talk to the pass the time. It had been a pleasant time, though Lyra was fully aware that she was out of things to talk about and her patience of small talk had dwindled considerably.

Thomas was an interesting guy who clearly loved talking. Lyra had learned about his family in France, his job working for a non-profit, and his childhood dream of becoming an astronaut.

“What happens when the lights come on?”

Lyra frowned. “I’m fairly certain we pull into the station and go on as normal.”

Thomas fidgeted. “I mean…what happens to us when the lights come on? You and me.”

“You and me?”

He turned more squarely towards her. “I’ve had a really nice time talking to you tonight. You’ve made the blackout worth it.”

“I don’t…um…” Lyra cleared her throat. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Thomas. I’m not in a place where I can start something right now.”

Thomas’ eyes widened, all traces of confidence fading from his face. “Wow, I completely misread this. I’ll just go and sit back over there.”

“No,” Lyra muttered. “I wouldn’t mind being…friends. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

Thomas nodded. “I am. I’d like to be friends.”

“No expectations?”

“None at all,” Thomas confirmed with a small smile.

As Lyra opened her mouth to speak, the light above her flickered.

“Did you see that?” Lyra gasped.

She sat up frantically and stared outside. Specks of light were appearing across the cityscape, tiny windows into lives unknown being lit up like the starry sky above them.

The train’s light buzzed on and lit up the room.

Lyra blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the sudden influx of light. She let out a sigh of relief and leaned back against the window, angling to look at Thomas.

Except Thomas was no longer there.

Lyra frowned, peering towards Thomas’ old seat, finding it empty.

She stood, leaning into the aisle and looking down it. “Thomas?”

All eyes in the compartment turned to her quizzically. She recoiled, knocking something over onto the floor.

She leaned down to pick up the offending items and paused.

Her hands hovered over the full bottle of water and an uneaten chicken salad sandwich. She fell back into her seat, grasping the items to her chest. Her breathing started to accelerate as her mind raced.

Lyra’s head started to spin as the conductor spouted a message over the now-working PA system, but Lyra wasn’t sure exactly what was said. She curled up into herself as the train slowly began to roll through the city, lights popping up quicker and quicker outside.

She tapped her phone and the torch was extinguished, the device warm in her hand.

She sat still until the train was operating as normal and arrived at her stop. She woodenly collected her luggage and took one last look up and down the train in case she’d just missed Thomas as he got off at his stop. She shook her head to clear it as she stood by the doors, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder.

Lyra clicked the button the open the doors. They slid open, but her head snapped to the side, a dull electronica beat throbbing in her ears. She gasped and looked around her, but she was alone in the vestibule. Her eyes fell downwards to the earphones that were hanging haphazardly from her pocket. She lifted one to her ear and sighed. The electronic music she had heard earlier.

Her legs moved on autopilot as she stepped off the train onto the platform, all traces of the music gone, her mind empty leaving her fully alone with her meandering thoughts.

She gripped the handle of her suitcase tightly and frowned. The train doors slammed shut as it prepared to leave the station.

Lyra didn’t know what was happening, but she knew one thing for sure.

She needed a good night’s sleep.