Novel Transit

Synchronized whirring and creaking of the metal and the gears in the shafts and motor down below, steam slowly fading past my window. The train was at constant speed blazing through the plush countryside, just a little past the city. “Ah, seconds and seconds more… the closer I am to my dear Rosalie. And yet time is merely a concept of the mind”, I muttered as I looked out the glass. “Why not some crisp morning air…” I said to myself, enticed by the tall green grass and fresh cerulean skies. A cool gentle breeze calms my senses and I catch a whiff of hot Earl Grey tea. “Well then, I travelled first class for this so I may as well make use of the space.” I opened up my trunk, unhooked the clasps locking it in place, and took out the blueprints to continue my work.

“Engineering projects are a rage in this time of the century when –“, I caught myself mid-monologue as the earlier breeze became a swift gust of wind through my small crack for air in the window. In a hurry and unsuspecting consciousness, I hurried at the spillage of papers flowing out of my train compartment. Rushing to the hallway for the stray floating papers, someone came along to lend a helping hand. Looking up, the person was a man in his 30’s wearing an American suit, minus the coat. A much too formal attire for a train ride, yet laid back and casual enough for comfort. “Busy working through this adventure we’re having here?” inquires the stranger with an eerie, uncanny grin on his face as he helps me pick up the remnants of my papers. “Unfortunately I have not packed tea leaves for this trip but may I tempt you with a round of blackjack?”

“This seems like a fateful incident which would lead to an unfortunate chain of unprecedented events, and my life is about to change for better or for worse” says the voice at the back of my head. “Oh, I must admit I haven’t tried such a game of cards. Quite intriguing, may I?” And I already see him shuffling the cards on the table with exquisite speed and high-end precision, like a classic dealer – which I later found out that he is. Rounds were played until I started to get the hang of it, especially since he used a fresh deck of cards. I didn’t exactly lie when I said I haven’t tried blackjack, but I honed my expertise in numbers through card games and a ton of poker. “Alright, if you win one more round, I’ll give you something as a token of gratitude and I say we head to the pantry, yes?” I laughed, we played - I won. The strange dealer gave me a card, a kind I’ve never seen before. “What is this for?” I asked looking intently at the rectangular piece of somewhat futuristic relic on my hands. But the train passed under the tunnel, and the daylight dimmed to shadows obstructing my investigation. As I looked up, the man was gone, but more importantly, all the wood is gone. The whole train turned into a metallic giant with no more rooms. There were handles and chairs sticking to the wall as if the passengers were meant to sit side by side as strangers. There were poles sticking up from the floor to the ceiling, perhaps meant to be held onto as well. Everyone was gone, everything from the prior few hours of the trip has vanished, except for the faint trace of Earl Grey in the air.

“…” I cannot even utter a tone- my vocal chords cannot vibrate a single word. There was way too much stimuli that my own mental voice is delaying in speech and losing command over good vocabulary. I panicked, feeling pumped with adrenaline and yet, lightheaded as if in a daze. “Hello! Welcome!” choruses a young boy, around five years of age. He wore a smart chic outfit, with rubber shoes, checkered shorts, and a plain collared maroon shirt with sleeves going all the way to his wrists - oh, and he had glasses. But what impression he was aiming for, I do not know. Looking around, the place was illuminated with white light coming from long rectangular glowing sticks on the ceiling. The metal reflected so much, along with shades of green and cyan, and weaker blue like some retro or neon-vibe… I don’t even know what I’m talking about like, what’s a retro? I took a deep breath, an inhale of about how many gallons of air, until I realized the card I still apparently have on my sweaty palms. Again, I stared at the little boy who says nothing else aside from his supposed “welcoming speech”. I tried to grab on to his clothes only to see my arm rush past and through him, and the kid glitched with blue and silver and gray. “Oh my-“, I shrieked in surprise and all of a sudden, “To move, you try. To survive, you thrive. The rounds are made, to the exit, you play.” And the neatly clad little gentleman was gone.

Suddenly and out of nowhere, a gumball machine showed up on the corner of the train cart. It felt like I had asthma, I was hyperventilating and probably needed something, maybe menthol. Maybe this was probably just the tea. Wait, tea? A tap on my shoulder woke me from my bewilderment, and I blinked to see an old lady in her… 50’s? I was confused beyond belief. “Son, you see, I’ve always had a sweet tooth. Sugar is just too tempting, won’t you agree?” Elegant in a bright violet, almost magenta silk dress, the woman converses in a sweet endearing tone, and before I can respond, she adds… “Would you care to lend me a hand” as she points to the corner of the train cart. Twice more, I blinked, and approached the colourful ball of… balls, seeing a small slit below just the right size for the card. Before I got the chance to do anything, she adds, “I’d like a red and blue one please, maybe two of each” along with a warm smile. I looked at the machine in front of me, the bowl dotted with primary colors, and purple.

Out of instinct, I used the card and it worked like a penny. “Would be nice if systems worked like this in the future” I thought to myself despite the weird atmosphere; the critical side of my brain is getting the most out of me. Three balls fell from the compartment: yellow, purple, red. My eyelids narrow, sensing myself a challenge. “Oohoho, I see…” I said with a huff and a giggle like I was a young boy in my childhood once more. Staring at the gumball machine, “with the results I got and judging from the size of the balls and the dimensions of the container, I think there’d be about…” I continued to mutter to myself with my fingers tousling my eyebrows, another arm carrying its weight by the elbow. “What a horrid habit! Your eyebrows are wonderfully arched and shaped naturally, you’re causing it to protrude from its natural state!” exclaimed the woman in an articulate English accent as she comments on my mannerism. With a laugh, I said “Oh, my wife used to say that on numerous occasions as well!” with extra enthusiasm. The lady dashed a sincere and comforting smile, a familiarity I swear I’ve felt somewhere before. She helped alleviate the terror I was expecting to have of the situation, and how I wish we could converse longer.

Running calculations through my head, “…statistics and probability” I exhaled under my breath. But then, how many tries am I allowed to play? This possibility almost slipped my mind. I tried to check for any differences in the environment, say, a change in lighting perhaps? Any difference of markings in the card, or how about the strangers’ behaviour? None showed any sign of alteration and I assumed to have an unlimited number of chances, hoping I actually do. With the right number of tries, I’ll get enough of the balls I need. “Bet” the old lady said. “What?” I said dumbfounded and in disbelief, with an inquiring look and a tilt of my head. “Where’s the fun in infinity?” she responds with a wink. Leaning towards her ear, I uttered a number - perhaps out of playful guess, perhaps out of cunning computations. And the goal was reached, she finally had her sought after gumballs on the palm of her hands. There were plenty of extra left, but she gave them to me as her token of gratitude.

And so I had questions to ask, but when I turned around there was nobody in sight. “Indeed” I nodded with an awkward expression and a tinge of longing in my voice, then the door of the train cart leading to the next one opened automatically, as if urging my gawking stature to move along. “Strange-er… but thankfully this experience isn’t mortifying, having lived and being alive is always something to be grateful for” I said with a smile. I was unconsciously smiling? Huh. Continuing on through the next cart, I see this young teenage boy sulking in the corner, resting his head on his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. The arch on his back is exposed through his white shirt as he runs his long dainty fingers through his delectable mahogany copper hair.

Approaching with calmness, since bewilderment would no longer suit my mood, I was surprised when he got up from his seat and walked straight towards the other side of the seats, or so I thought. Diagonal from me, there now lies a contraption with a claw-like metal hand hanging above and items of all sorts scattered encased in a glass box. The boy, who had a checkered collared shirt strapped and tied on his waist, was now pushing buttons and ramming his fingers down the keys of the machine. He had a devious smile ready to take on a worthy and daring challenge, “what a familiar smile” I thought to myself. With youthful energy, he maneuvered the metallic claw by controlling a stick alongside the buttons. “What are you doing?” I blurted out in curiosity. I know I may have been rude not to introduce myself first or ask the kid’s name but, things happen. “I am trying to get that one right there” he says as he gestures toward the item a little ways over the corner. Judging by looks, it’s enthralling how someone wearing ripped blue jeans and rubber but bulky shoes like it was filled with foam, would be quite interested in getting a pencil case. Are those jeans a sort of fashion statement I haven’t heard about?

There were all sorts of whatnot in the encasement too many to mention, though its dimensions were merely about a meter and a half at most. Observing critically his actions by the inch, the apparent goal of the activity was to grab the prize you seek using the claw, which somehow goes back to an original position after some time, and dropping it to an opening so you may claim it. To sit in peace, was something I cannot do in this situation. “Do you realize how foolish it would be to go straight for that?” once more I blurted out. I am starting to be an ecstatic and enthusiastic man than how I came to know myself, or perhaps of how I remember it. “Look”, I pointed with my finger beside his line-of-vision, “with its shape and size, you have a checklist of things to do first.” The juvenile looked at me, not in an agreeing way but more like he was taunting and daring me… which he followed up with, “Alright then, get something. Let’s see if you can…” he says with an adorable smirk I could just pinch. His brown-green eyes matched his hair and for some reason I don’t feel outraged with his remark, just downright pumped up for a game. He let me take over, and I started muttering gibberish with angles and numbers and mental calculations out loud. I thought about the time-limit, the strength of the claw, surrounding obstructions – their angle and their weight, and the prize I was aiming for.

By the time I got it all figured out, my body was tingling with exhilaration but nothing happened when I pressed the keys. I must have looked senseless because the teenager burst out laughing, and between laughs he told me to use the card, which I again fairly forgot I had. “The battle is on!” let’s not add in some comical screaming, I’d rather be composed and in the zone, no clichéd sweating either. “So I get unlimited tries, but that claw, oh that claw!” I said with burning fervor as I had my eyes set on the can of cookies just by the opening, needing only a little push. We continued to argue, in all honesty, throughout my travails and attempts which I can say I had fun with, but finally… “Oh hey, lucky! What’s that?” inquired my snooping companion. Something else fell, and they weren’t cookies but still, I grabbed the box from the compartment and we inspected it. “Now those… are some good tea. I’ll go get us some hot water” he says as I opened it and inhaled all that Earl Grey goodness. But when I turned around, everything was gone except for two teacups and a pot of fresh hot water, then a door opened.

Now I’m slowly starting to understand, perhaps I am. “That’s what the little boy said earlier…” I whispered to myself as I walk my way across to the next compartment- cups in one hand, the teapot on the other. “That’s it, this whole thing is a game!” And papers were all over the floor, beside them, a girl around six or seven was sprawled gracefully with her dark reddish pink dress on the floor. “Hello there” I chorused as I sat on the bench in front of her, but she was too occupied on her craft to notice, so I poured us both a warm cup of decoction. Perhaps a waft of aroma seduced her senses as she looked up, got surprised and said, “Oh hello! Is that perhaps Earl Grey?” “Yes, and here’s a cup for you.” I said as I handed her cup which I followed with, “Are you by yourself here?” She nodded, as she took a careful sip of the steaming infusion, then grabbed her pen to write some more. “I shall accompany you then”, I added. “So what are writing?” inquired my nosy nature. “It’s a secret, but it’s a story…” she giggled “Because I want to be a novelist when I grow up!” For the rest of the next few minutes, we enjoyed our tea, and I contemplated the previous events of my day. “Do you like numbers?” I asked to spark conversation. The following dialogue went like this… “Not me, but my best friend loved numbers” I smiled “Oh? Where is he now?” She looked up at me, and I saw she was wearing a silver necklace with a plume pendant, as she replied “He went somewhere far to study and for his dreams, I really miss him.”

Earl Grey was kick-starting my drowsiness so I said, “I’m sorry dear, it has been a long day and I feel really sleepy…” says I with my eyes blinking slowly. “Don’t worry”, she says as she got up the floor and sat beside me, “You can rest, I won’t leave your side. I’ll watch over you and be by your side, so don’t worry.” My eyes slowly shut close and I fell into deep slumber before I could even respond. I had a dream… I was back in my yesteryears with my best friend. He loved playing blackjack and our favourite pastime was Earl Grey over a table of cards. He was much older than me so he left town while me and my other friend were still little children. I wonder how he is now. In the scene of my dream, my younger brother came to tease my set of cards and support the enemy side. He and I loved games, and just the same, we were always motivated to attain our sought after dreams. Cookies and sweet treats were brought in by our Auntie for she loved them so much. This was all in my friend’s house, but she was by the staircase writing yet again another story. That girl adores the adventures on books, of romance novels and horrifying thrillers. She had the sweetness like her mothers delights, and just as playful as us boys when we came to her house. She kissed my forehead, yes… a soft endearing touch of her lips on my forehead. And then I woke up.

Synchronized whirring and creaking of the metal and the gears in the shafts and motor down below, steam slowly fading past my window. The train was at constant speed blazing through the plush countryside, just a little past the city. I awoke on my desk with a tear in my eye, and a grin on my face I never thought I’d wear again. But why would I think such thoughts? I continue to wonder, but smiling simply seems like a distant thing I have done so long ago. “I guess I’ll just continue working on my project.” I say as I try to shake off the peculiar experience. As I opened the trunk, there lies a silver necklace with a plume pendant, and a wedding ring along the chain. “Rosie…” I utter with blissful longing for the woman I can no longer embrace nor hold in my arms.