Derailed

The rocking and the dull sound of the train travelling down the rail, lulled Presley deeper into the calm black abyss that enveloped her until a random bump startled her and made her beautiful hazel eyes fly open.

“Where the hell am I?” The bewildered woman wondered groggily. As she looked around at the empty train car, the more her eyes focused, the more questions arose in her head. She attempted to stand, but her legs immediately gave way, forcing her back into her seated position. The young woman had no idea how she got there and tried to put together the puzzle that was her previous moves leading to that moment. Presley recanted her daily routine of her faithful alarm Preston calling out to her, letting her know that he was ready to begin his special day. The young mother made her way to his room and greeted her beautiful boy by picking him up and kissing the top of his full head of curly hair.

“Happy birthday my handsome boy.” She cooed sweetly. The precious little man greeted his doting mom with his big beautiful gray eyes and wide smile and wrapped his arms around her neck tightly, inviting his mother to breath in his sweet baby smell. After a few more loving kisses and snuggles, the two began their morning routine of singing and dancing as Presley dressed and prepared her son’s breakfast. Presley loved being a mother, and even though her son was a product of a random encounter, she could not imagine her life without her “Tiny Man”.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year sweetness, and when mommy gets off work, she is going to get her love bug the biggest and tastiest strawberry cake from Santini’s. Glamma said she is going to make her special man a dinner fit for a Prince, and Pop Pop said he has a big surprise for you. Today is your day little guy.” Presley said with a wide grin.

After the young mother made sure that her son’s needs were tended to, she set him back in his crib with his favorite stuffed pal and set about getting herself ready for the day. An hour later, a knock at the door announced the arrival of the young lad’s favorite sitter and Grandmother. Presley picked up her ward and headed to door with an energetic toddler wriggling excitedly in his mother’s arms, anxiously awaiting his Glamma’s appearance. The mother hardly had time to open the door, when Preston catapulted himself into the waiting arms of the elderly matriarch.

“And how is Glamma’s tiny man this morning?" A very fashionable Diana Prescott cooed to her grandson as made her way into the home.

“Morning Mummy.” Presley said and gave her mom a quick side hug, avoiding the wild kicks from her amped up son. While collecting her items needed to walk out the door, the orderly mother recited the days itinerary to her mom.

“Preston has had breakfast, he’s clean and dry, I’ll pick up the cake after work, oh and the groceries have been ordered and should be here no later than ten. I made sure that I got everything on the list you gave me. Daddy called this morning and said he will be by around six…”

“Girl, if you don’t leave me alone and get out of here.” Presley’s mother interrupted.

The young woman smiled in acquiescence, kissed her son, and was pushed out the door by her mom.

“Girl, you worry too much, love you have a good day.” Diana chuckled lightly. “Come on Glamma’s man, let’s go watch Sesame Street.” She said as she closed the door.

Presley smiled as she made her morning commute. She thought about the great support system she had with raising her son as a single mom, in addition to having a successful and rewarding career as an attorney for the underprivileged. Not to mention, keeping another human alive for a year was a crowning achievement for a woman that couldn’t keep a cactus alive. Yes, the young woman felt accomplished. Clouding the sunny thoughts of the day was Preston’s father.

Presley’s lovely face smiled as she remembered the handsome Marcus Mayweather whom she had met on a business trip train ride from New York to D.C. The handsome cinnamon complected man that instantly bewitched the usually rational and demure woman into an impromptu tryst in the bathroom, which resulted in the birth of her pride and joy. The young mother felt slightly guilty for not attempting to reach out to Marcus, but figured she was doing him a favor- besides she wasn’t even sure what his home life was like and did not want to deal with the prospect of any blow back. The woman was financially stable with a loving and supportive family and felt that she could provide all the needs for her child, so opted to remain silent. Upon her arrival at her favorite coffee shop, thoughts of Marcus were put to the back of her mind. When Presley walked in, she was taken aback that her usual attendant was not behind the counter.

“Good morning, is Mrs. Applebee out today?” Presley asked concerned. For the five years that Presley lived in her neighborhood, she was used to starting her day with the kind eyes, words and demeanor of the thin, elderly, and spry woman that owned the coffee spot.

“She had a family emergency and asked me to step in for her today” replied the friendly young lady. Presley could not help but notice how out of place the pretty woman appeared. The attendant was friendly, but her expensive manicure and hairdo had the look and feel of a kept woman that should be waited on, not waiting on others. Presley immediately felt guilty for passing judgement and recited her order. The young woman turned her back and expertly crafted Presley’s order to her specifications. After sipping her drink, Presley warmly thanked the young woman.

“It’s very good, tastes just like Mrs. Applebee’s but it somehow tastes a tad bit different.” Presley replied, trying to figure out the difference.

“Oh, that’s the extra love I put into it.” The young woman chuckled and replied with a warm smile.

Presley gave it no further thoughts as she settled into her fifteen-minute car ride while sipping her sweet morning nectar. As she listened to her favorite morning show, the young woman began to feel a little loopy.

“Goodness this coffee has a kick to it.” She thought to herself and became immersed in the topic of the day. Presley went over of her mental checklist one final time and before she realized it, she was at her destination. She put the car in park and turned off the ignition, then reached over to grab her purse and attaché case. As she did, a wave of dizziness overcame her, then she blacked out and brought her to present situation.

Presley noticed the speed of the train appeared to be steadily increasing and was perplexed by not only the accelerating speed, but by the absence of any other passengers. The young, woman willed herself back to her feet, hoping that her legs would follow suit. With steady footing in place, she observed the familiar looking train car and ever speeding outdoor surroundings.

“Why does this feel like I’ve been here before?” Presley asked aloud, before a sudden wave of nausea overcame her. Instinctively Presley bolted to a closed door, flung it open and was greeted with the welcome sight of a toilet. After her stomach was relived of it’s upset, the young woman washed her hands and face. As she inspected herself in the mirror, the young woman noticed a red scuff mark on the wall in the reflection. Presley turned in surprise and carefully inspected the mark and was catapulted into a memory of one year prior.

“What in the hell is going on? Why am I here?” the panicked young woman thought as she remembered the mark of her favorite shoe and how it got there. There was no denying that this was the place that she had conceived her son, but what she could not conceive was why and how she ended up back there. In a state of shock and bewilderment, Presley felt her knees about to give out, and stumbled through the door as the train bumped, before increasing in speed. Anxious for answers, the confused woman made her way back to her seat to see if she could find some answers in her belongings. As she searched for her purse or her briefcase, she slumped down in frustration realizing that her items were nowhere to be found. In a last-ditch effort, the woman searched the pockets of her beautifully tailored pant suit in hopes of finding at least a ticket stub, but to no avail one did not materialize. After taking a deep calming breath Presley decided to inspect the other cars of the train, and to her dismay was still not successful in finding other passengers. Frustrated and with even more questions than answers, she ventured to front to perhaps get further clarification from the conductor. The train’s acceleration was quickly hastening as she hastened her own steps. When she made her way to the door of the cab, her hand lingered briefly before apprehensively sliding the door open. She was taken aback at the absence of a conductor and the presence of a handwritten note to her- Presley Erin Prescott. With great hesitation, she retrieved the taped note on the glass and was taken aback by the sudden sound of New Edition’s “Can you stand the rain”.

The dazed woman read the letter carefully, trying to dissect any clues that it may contain:

Dear Presley:

You may not know who I am, but I know what you did. Unless you can figure out why you are here, you will die and that precious little boy of yours will soon forget who you are. Are you sure that he is safe with your mother? Can she truly protect him if the time or need arose? Fear not, I would never dare think of hurting a hair on his sweet innocent head. You have what I have always wanted, and you took what I have always desired. What you have done can never be undone and your actions will forever be unforgivable. As the saying goes and eye for an eye, and I will make sure that your debt is paid in full. This train will continue to speed up until you find the clue that reveal my identity. When you think you know who I am, yell your answer, if correct the lock on the brake will be released and you will be able to stop the train. Failure to do so before it reaches D.C will result in the train derailing due to accelerated speed during a hazardous turn. If you try to pull the brake before you successfully figure out my identity, the train will explode. I’m sure that you have wasted a lot of precious time before finding this note, so tick tock you are on the clock. I am waiting for you to say my name and admit to what you did. I am listening and I am waiting.

Sincerely,

The Derailed

Presley clutched the letter tightly, until her knuckles turned white. She looked around the compartment and saw the brake but resisted the urge to pull it prematurely. As she reread, the letter, various snippets from songs began to blare from the speakers. “Heartbreak Hotel” by Elvis Presley, then “Heartbreak Hotel” by Whitney Houston rang in her ears.

“I don’t have time for this Shit!” Presley yelled to the empty room.

Incensed and frustrated, the young woman set about her task for the mystery clue, so she could get off the speeding train to her demise. Her only thoughts were of her son and his birthday celebration that she wanted to survive to get to. Panicked, Presley tore through the rows of seats on her hands and knees, looking under each seat in hopes of finding the elusive clue that would be her ticket out of there. The first and second car revealed nothing and as the time ticked away, her dismay and frustration rose with each song snippet that played. “The cleanup woman” by Betty Wright followed by Marvin Gaye’s “Distant Lovers” sparked her attention as she searched the final car, the car that she began her nightmare in. Presley slumped down in the seat that she woke up in and was overpowered by the scent of Aramis, a classic men’s fragrance, while the song “Secret Lovers” by Atlantic Star played. The terrified mother tried to remain calm with the realization that the train was hastening its speed and with each moment that passed, her time was quickly running out. She looked outside at the ever swiftly changing surroundings and realized that her destination was approaching quickly. As she was about to admit defeat, the doomed woman began to accept her fate as she melted into the comfort of the seat, the sounds of the music and the smell of her surroundings. Presley looked at the empty seat across from her and the sudden thought of Marcus flooded her memories. His hundred-watt smile lit up the car as the two held a conversation of his favorite 80’s songs and the origins of the young woman’s name (Presley, as in Elvis Aaron Presley, the woman’s father favorite artist). As a young girl, she thought that it was odd that her black father was a die-hard fan of the famed white man, but her father had told her that he was the blackest white man ever.

“You wouldn’t know it, if you don’t know your history, but Elvis was heavily influenced by black artists of his time. His love and appreciation of our music and his head nods to our people firmly cemented my respect of him. If you would’ve been a boy, you would’ve been named Elvis, but you weren’t so we named you Presley.” The father chuckled as he told his story to the then ten-year-old girl. Presley smiled as she remembered Marcus’ light laughter at her story- impressed with the thought and care that had gone into her name.

“Your dad sounds like a thoughtful man,” Marcus said sweetly.

“He certainly is,” Presley replied sweetly.

“One day, when I am a father, I can only hope my son or daughter has a name that is as well thought out”, he replied kindly before the conversation took a turn, and the two later found themselves in one another’s embrace in the train’s lavatory where Presley’s heels dug into the wall, creating the memorable scuff mark on the wall.

Presley was struck with inspiration from the memory and quickly made her way to the front. She flung open the door and yelled to the empty area.

“You are Marcus Mayweather, and you found out that I had a child and are upset that I never reached out to tell you. Please forgive me, I promise that if you let me go home to our son, we can work this out and you can get to know him. I promise I won’t tell the police, or anyone for that matter if you just let me get out of here alive.” The astute woman yelled, confident that her answer was correct. Hesitantly, Presley pulled the brake, hoping that it would make the train slow down. However, she was not met with the desired effect as a clearly disguised voice announced that her answer was in fact wrong. Frustrated, dejected and teary eyed, Presley sat in the empty conductors’ seat awaiting her final moments. Her final thoughts were of her precious Preston and future birthdays that she would never see.

Hours later, Diana Prescott was watching the twelve o’clock news while preparing her grandson’s birthday dinner, when two consecutive news stories piqued her interest.

“Up and coming business mogul Marcus Mayweather was traveling from New York city

to his home in Washington D.C when it appears that the man may have suffered a seizure causing him to pass out. As a result, there is a twelve-car pileup on I-695. Authorities say there are no major injuries of the other drivers, however, Mr. Mayweather was pronounced dead at the scene. If anyone is traveling in that direction, please expect delays. In other news, a train traveling from New York to D.C. appears to have been hijacked and has exploded thirty minutes outside the D.C area. Local authorities were only able to find one body aboard the train and are not sure if the lone person was the hijacker, we will keep you posted as this story progresses.” The informed newsman stated as Diana turned off the television.

“Well Preston, it’s not a good day to be going to D.C. I’m glad none of us are traveling that way.” The elderly matriarch said sadly. “Well, it’s twelve and your mommy should be calling soon.” The grandmother said to her grandson who was busy pulling himself up by the sturdy living room table. When Diana looked away to find her phone in anticipation of her daughter’s call, she looked back to see her grandson making unsteady steps toward her. Giddy with excitement, the grandmother took a video of the happy toddler’s milestone, anxious to show his mother.

“Oh, tiny man, your mommy and pop pop are going to be so excited. That’s Glamma’s big boy, you can do it.” The happy grandmother cheered and encouraged, until he made more unsteady steps and ended in her waiting arms. An expected knock at the door interrupted the celebration and Diana gathered her grandson to see who was on the other side.

“I’m not expecting anyone, are you Preston?” The grandmother asked her grandson jokingly. She opened the door and saw a very pretty well-dressed young woman with impeccable hair on the other side.

“Good afternoon, ma’am you don’t know me, but your daughter knows my husband very well.” The beautiful woman stated. Diana looked at the woman confused and was taken aback at what appeared to be an allegation against her daughter.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but my daughter is at work and should be calling shortly. I don’t know what’s going on and what may have happened between her and your husband, but I am sure we can get this all squared away when she calls.” Diana said pointedly as she clutched her grandson tighter.

“Ma’am, I do not foresee that happening, I’m just here to collect what belongs to me.” The woman replied coldly as she forced her way into the home.

“Look here lady, I don’t know who you are and what you think belongs to you, but if you don’t leave now, I will call the police.” The defensive grandmother replied.

“No, what you are going to do is listen and understand how this is going to play out. It’s up to you how this will end okay?” The pretty woman stated coolly as she closed the door.

“Well, hello little man, aren’t you the cutest. You look just like your daddy.” The woman said to the apprehensive baby. As she reached out to touch him, the grandmother shifted the baby away from the woman’s grasp- Preston clutched his grandmother firmly in fear of the strange woman.

“Once again, I don’t know who you are or what you think you know…”

“Let me stop you there Diana Louise Prescott. Your daughter had an affair with my husband a year ago. That whore had sex with him in a train bathroom and conceived that precious little boy in your arms. Marcus came home that evening and told me that he had an affair and the stress that I endured resulted in the miscarriage of our only child. We had been trying for years to have a baby and on the day he told me, was the day I was going to announce it to him. After that, the doctor’s told me that I would never be able to have another child- that baby was our miracle baby, and your daughter took that away from me. Marcus told me her name, and through social media I had been following her. When she announced that she was having a baby I instantly knew it was Marcus’. I anticipated her reaching out to him, but when she didn’t, I knew that I had to do whatever I needed to find and collect what rightfully belongs to me. I let Marcus think that were on the mend and he never suspected anything, he didn’t even know he had a child. I love how people put their lives on display for the world to see, so I knew where her favorite coffee spot was. I knocked out the old lady at the coffee shop as she was unlocking the door and hardly had enough time to pull her to the back when your daughter arrived. She was friendly and lovely and I’m sure under other circumstances I would have liked to get to know her, but here we are.” The woman chuckled softly. “I roofied her coffee and followed her to her job. By the time she got there, the coffee had taken full effect and I drug her to the train station and put her on the same train that she had met my husband on. Lucky for me, there was maintenance being done and it was out of commission- even luckier, my father is a retired train conductor, so I know my way around the inner workings of these things. She had ample time to figure out my identity and reveal her transgression, but alas your smart daughter was not smart enough. I had poisoned three of Marcus’ cigarettes and I guess he smoked the wrong one, because now he is dead as well. So now we stand at an impasse; give me the boy and lie to the authorities about my identity- tell them it was a home invasion, and you keep your life, or we can do this the hard way.” The woman said with a smirk.

“You killed my daughter?” Diana shrieked. “How?” she asked, knowing she did not want to know the answer.

“The details are irrelevant, but the fact is, she will not be coming back, and you most certainly will not be having an open casket. So just hand over my son and we will be leaving, he has a fantastic birthday already planned out.” The woman said as she reached out to take the boy from his grandmother’s arms.

“Over my dead body.” The grandmother seethed and turned to retrieve her phone. The woman reached in her purse and pulled out an already cocked gun with a silencer and pressed it to the back of the grandmother’s head and pulled the trigger. Brain matter sprayed the face of the screaming, terrified toddler, and the stranger swiftly took the baby from the dead woman’s arms before the elderly woman fell to the floor.

“Come on my little bubby, it’s time for you to go home.” The strange woman calmly told the screaming boy while she cleaned his face off with a baby wipe retrieved from her purse. “I have such a wonderful day and life in store for you.”