A Faulty Memory

"...Not a speck of light is showing

So the danger must be growing

Are the fires of Hell a-glowing

Is the grisly reaper mowing

Yes, the danger must be growing

For the rowers keep on rowing

And they’re certainly not showing

Any signs that they are slowing ..."

– ‘Wondrous Boat Ride’, from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971)

++++++++

My eyes creak open, still heavy with sleep, and the first thing I notice is the smell. A horrid, putrid smell assaults my nostrils. It’s dark here.

Where is here? Where am I?

I then take note of the shaking, swaying motion from the room I am in. The clicking noise from below.

Am I…on a train??

I’d never been on a train before. But why was I on one now? Why is it dark? And WHAT is that awful smell??

I reach out with my right hand and feel a shade drawn down. Ah, a window. I pull on the shade to lift it. It is pitch black dark outside, but even the night provides some light. I squint my eyes, trying to adjust and see my surroundings. Gosh, I’m so tired. I could seriously just close my eyes and lay back down…

I open my eyes hard and fast, fighting the exhaustion that has taken over. I look around, taking in what I can make out in the dim lighting. That’s when I feel a metal object hit my leg. I pat around.

Ah! A flashlight lying next to me on the seat. I pick it up and push the end, clicking it on.

There’s a person sitting across from me and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Good grief!!” I practically yell at the guy, climbing backwards in my own seat to get away, “What the hell? Have you been here the whole time?”

That’s when I notice that the man, who is slumped down in his seat, eyes staring, unblinking…is dead. Very dead.

My hand covers my mouth in shock, my stomach twisting in knots. Well, I’m awake now, as it were. I stand up, but I’m dizzy. So very dizzy. I grab the door handle to steady myself. What is wrong with me? I don’t drink, so it’s most definitely not a hangover.

I have so many questions. So many questions.

1. Why am I on a train?

2. Who killed that guy?

3. Why am I so freaking tired?

4. Who is in charge here?

5. Does the person in charge know there’s a dead person here?

Whatever is happening, this train seems to be full-speed ahead. I have to get out of this car. I manage to get the car door to slide open and it does so very easily. At last I feel like I can breathe, the putrid smell of death escaping around me out into the hall. It’s so dark in this section. There is no one else around that I can see.

I put a hand to my head, trying to slow my panicking brain. Okay, Charlie. Just slow down for a second. Think. Think. Do you remember boarding this train?

No. Not at all.

Okay, think back…what do you remember?

My car. My car had broken down. I had been on my way back to my apartment in Syracuse. I’d been visiting my best friend Jenni, who was now a boutique store owner in Bradford. There was only a three hour distance between us, so we visited each other whenever we could.

When the smoke had started to roll out from under the hood of my car on the way home, I had groaned and pulled over. That stupid check engine light had come on again. As usual, I had ignored it. I had no cell signal. Luckily I had just passed the city limits for Bath. I could walk the two miles back to get help. I had grabbed my pocket knife, shoved it in my back pocket, and thrown my backpack over my shoulder before locking my car and starting my walk back to town limits.

I reach into my pocket now to feel for the pocket knife. Gone. My backpack? Where was my backpack? I turn back to glance around, using the flashlight to look for a bright purple backpack. I don’t see it anywhere. Have I lost it? Has someone taken it?

Then another thought occurs to me. I have no train ticket. No receipt, no nothing indicating that I ever boarded this train. I even check my pockets again one more time, just to be sure.

Okay, first things first. Let’s find who’s in charge of this crazy train and go from there. Maybe they can answer my questions, and help with the friggin’ dead guy in there.

I take my only tool, the found flashlight, and make my way down the hallway. I pass several areas that all seem to be empty. No lights are on, no people in sight. There is an empty trolley in the aisle, no attendant around. It is deathly quiet, except for the noise coming from below of metal on track. The noise that seems never ending.

Surely I can’t be the only person on this train. I should move to the next car.

I use the flashlight to make my way to the door of the next car. It also opens in easily. Dark in this car too, much like the one I just left. I peer into each compartment. So far, empty. Man, my head hurts right now. It feels like a hammer is turning my brain to mush. I grab my head for a moment, the light from the flashlight bouncing off the train walls.

This doesn’t make any sense. Okay, what else do I remember in between getting out of my car to walk back to Bath, and waking up on this train?

I remember starting the walk. It had been nice outside, the breeze blowing just enough to make my hair sway in the wind. It had still been daylight outside, though the sun had been making its way to the west to set soon. I remember turning back to make sure my car was still there, parked on the side of the highway. Why do people do silly things like that? I had smiled at myself, shaking my head in my own ridiculousness.

I had been walking for what seemed like forever, my backpack weighing a hundred pounds on my back after a while. The road had gone on for what felt like miles. Had I been wrong? Was Bath further away than I had remembered it being? Had I made a wrong turn somewhere? No, this road was straight. But I had walked, and walked, and walked…

That is literally all I can remember. I remember nothing after that. It’s like a blank page inside my head.

My breathing quickens as panic begins to set in. It isn’t like me to not be able to remember things, especially things that had just happened. (After all, I was a…

a…

…what do I do for a living again?)

Think. Isn’t my job something I should remember too??

Something is wrong. Very wrong. My head absolutely aches.

Keep looking for people.

I press on, and that’s when I notice the next car in front of me. I can see through the door window. Light. People. Laughter. Music. I gasp in my excitement. I start to move quicker to get to the car but then I stop.

Wouldn’t I have heard them earlier?

I shrug and move forward, eager to talk to someone, anyone. Try to figure out this whole mess. Someone had to know something.

I reach the door and can smell food wafting through. Barbecue, it smells like. Chicken. And butter. Bread. My stomach absolutely rolls with hunger, a hunger I hadn’t even been aware of until just now.

I try the door…it’s stuck.

No…

I pull harder. Nothing. I slap my hands on the glass window, shouting with a shaky voice, “Hey! Over here! Please let me in! The door is stuck!”

No one looks my way. They are laughing together, flirting, eating, clinking glasses, lost in their own worlds. The sounds of Billie Holiday drift in through the door. They don’t even notice me. Frustration begins to seep in, and I pull on the door over and over and over. I finally bang my forehead on the door, about to give up.

But I try the door again. This time, as if by magic, it slides open easily. It must have been caught on something. My heart races with excitement, eager to be in the same room with living people.

I step through the door, and the room is suddenly empty. It’s quiet. It’s dark.

The people are gone. I look around. I sink to the floor of the car, the trains rumbling vibrating under my knees. I’m stunned. I stare at the red carpeted floor.

Did…I…imagine…all of that??

“No,” I say out loud, “I am not losing it. I can do this. Find the driver. That’s what you need to do. Find the driver. Get up. Get up off this floor. You can do this.”

Gripping the flashlight like a small weapon in my hand, I stand up and make my way through the car, onto the next one. It’s dark here too, quiet. But once I enter, I can hear something.

Crying.

Soft crying. I use my flashlight to look around the compartment. As I slowly walk up the aisle and pass the rows of seats, flashlight swaying with me, it becomes louder, more clear. At last, I get to the front, peering down to the floor where the last row of seats meets the wall. A child, a boy, curled up into the wall, head down and tucked into his arms. He’s sobbing.

I bend down, ignoring my throbbing head and reach out to touch his arm. “Hey,” I whisper, “Are you okay?”

The boy looks up at me and the first thing I notice is that the crying suddenly just...stops. Instead, the boy smiles at me. I can't say it's a nice smile. He tilts his head, studying me, curiously. I raise up from my squatting position and back away. The boy jumps up, still smiling that eerie smile.

“You’re never getting off this train,” he says simply. Then he turns right, skips down the aisle, and disappears into the train door. He is gone.

I stare, disbelief at what I’d just witnessed. Was he a ghost?

"I am losing my mind," I mutter to myself.

Why can’t I make my head stop pounding?? I have no choice but to keep going. I turn, reaching for the doorknob next to me, going into the next car. When I enter, I stop myself because I can hear something coming from the room just ahead of me.

Voices.

Heart pounding and head questioning and doubting (Are they real voices this time? Are they ghosts too?) I cautiously approach the door leading to the front car where the voices are drifting from.

I realize I’m afraid. Afraid of what will happen when the engineers discover me on this train, no luggage, no ticket, no identification. But I can tell them who I am. They will understand. I lost my bag, that’s all.

And that’s when it hits me. My name.

I don’t know who I am.

I close my eyes. Think, think.

I have a name.

But for the life of me…

“I have to get off this train,” I decide. With newfound courage, I turn the knob and push the door open to find who is talking on the other side.

Two men stand with their backs to me, working the train, but they turn to see who opened the door. At least, I think they are there. I reach out with my hand to feel and grab the closest one’s khaki jacket sleeve. (I'm sure I look ridiculous.) It’s thick, solid, warm even. They are real. I breathe out a sigh of relief and collapse to the floor, the back of my tired head resting against the wall. I look up to speak…

But before I can say anything, the one I hadn’t touched, the one with dark hair and denim overalls, turns and smiles at his partner. It isn’t a pleasant smile.

“I can’t believe he made it all the way up here. Usually they jump ship before they get here. Or the pain gets ‘em.”

Khaki Jacket smiles back and chuckles. “There’s always one that’s determined.” He leans down to look me in the eyes. “What’s yer name, fella?”

I shake my head. It pounds. “I don’t know, sir. Can you please, please just tell me what’s going on? What am I doing here?”

Both men laugh out loud now, full blown chuckles that make my heart sink. Have I been kidnapped? Oh my word…I’ve been kidnapped. They’re the ones who killed that guy back there. Am I next??

That’s it…they must have given me some drug that messes with my memory.

Khaki Jacket speaks again, “The Polar Express, this ain’t, fella. You’re done for.”

THEY ARE GOING TO KILL ME.

I think quickly…I have to do something. But what can I do?? This train is going 70 miles an hour and these psychos are running it!! I have no weapon and no strength. This is hopeless. But maybe I can talk to them…keep them talking to me until we reach a town. We’d have to stop sometime…right?? Then I can make a run for it.

But what they say next chills me to my bones.

Overalls squats down next to me and I scoot as far against the corner of the room as I can get, pressed into the wall of the train. He puts a hand on my shoulder and I swallow thickly. I wish he would stop touching me. He licks his lips and says, quite simply, “You’re dead, my friend.”

I squirm, trying not to let my fear take over. “Listen, what do you guys want? Money? You want money? I have money. I have credit cards. Take them. I’ll even sign them over to you. Just please, drop me off at the next stop and I won’t say a word to anyone.”

Overalls drops his head, looking at the floor for a moment, his hand still on my shoulder.

“You misunderstand, friend. We don’t want your money. We don’t need it. You don’t need it, where you’re headed.”

Now, I’m just lost. “What do you mean?”

Overalls smiles gently. “You don’t remember, do ya?”

Now I’m getting upset. “Remember? No, I don’t remember. It’s because you two have drugged me, kidnapped me, and thrown me on this train! And you killed another guy! He was in my car with me!”

Khaki Jacket and Overalls look at each other for a moment. Khaki Jacket speaks, “We ain’t give you nothin’ son. You died on that highway you was walking on. Semi truck. WHAM!”

I stare at him for a moment. Turn and look at Overalls.

No…that isn’t possible.

Overalls speaks again, “It’s pretty common to not remember much, and for memories to fade. Headaches also pretty common after…you know.” He stands again, leaving me propped up against the wall. I’m in a daze.

This isn’t possible.

My voice cracks as I have to ask, "Those...people...I saw back there. Back in those cars...they were..."

Khaki Jacket turns to adjust a few levers but calls over his shoulder, “Oh, and that body you woke up next to? Think about that for a minute, would ya?”

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Just hold tight. We almost there.”

I close my eyes and try to focus on the motion of the train, the rumbling of the wheels on steel, the swaying, and try not to focus on where “there” might be…