Coming Back For You

“Next stop: Fraser, Colorado”, the operator's voice rang out in the cabin. The sound of pressurized doors shutting outside and a slow whirring built as the speed increased. The man in the cabin was stirred awake by all of the unfamiliar noises around him. He woke in a panic, gasping for breath, looking around at the empty cabin and out the window. He felt a stabbing pain in his back as if he’d been sleeping in an uncomfortable position for hours.

“What the hell am I doing here?”, the man asked himself, clutching his throbbing head and tasting the stale vermouth and curry that still clung to his cheeks and tongue. He racked his mind for memories but couldn’t come up with anything. He didn’t exactly feel hungover, but he didn’t feel good and his mind was definitely foggy. He checked his pockets for a train ticket or some clue about how he ended up here and what he was doing. He found an old flip phone but nothing else. He checked the phone for messages, all that was on it were an incoming call from an unknown number. He dialed it.

“You’ve reached Betsy’s psychic and medium services. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thank you.” BEEP. The sound of the voicemail was grating against the man’s sensitive ears. He wasn’t a spiritual man, so he had no idea why he’d be in touch with a psychic. He hated psychics. They were clearly frauds, tricksters who steal from the naive. He would die before he’d talk to a psychic! That made him chuckle.

“Well at least you still have a sense of humor”, he muttered to himself. “Now, what’s in Fraser?”, he thought as he stared out the window. “None of my friends or family still live there, I haven’t been back there in years because there’s been nothing out there for me since mom and dad died”.

The man got up slowly from his seat, his back creaked and ached. He rubbed it and noticed that his jacket was ripped in several spots. I haven’t had a night out like this in years, he thought. He opened the cabin door and walked out into the corridor. The lights were dim and it smelled musty. An old ticket inspector with a wrinkled face and a hunched back walked down the corridor towards him and raised an arm to stop the man.

“I’m sorry, I think I lost my ticket sir”, the man said.

The inspector choked out a laugh, “Everyone on the train has already paid. I’m just here to make sure the guests are comfortable”

“Yes, I’m comfortable, I was just going to get some water and use the bathroom”, he responded.

The inspector chuckled again, and the man walked off towards the facilities confused. He rubbed his head and tried to think of the last thing he could remember. He remembered wanting to tell his friend something. She was the woman he’d been in love with for decades. He knew she loved him too, but something had always gotten in the way. They were nearing middle age now and he wanted to say fuck it and finally get together with her. He’d felt a sense of urgency. He was going to tell her at dinner, but he choked and figured he’d tell her on their walk home through the city… Had he run away in a panic? Did she reject him so he got drunk and got on a train taking him far away? he wondered.

The man felt the train lurch forward again as it gained speed. Weird, I thought it had already reached top speed. He looked out a window in the corridor and saw the dry, colorado brush and red rock flying by him at top speeds. Must be some new kind of high-speed train? He thought.

He made his way to the front of the train. The door to the driver’s compartment was wide open and the small, compact room was empty. He panicked for a moment, realizing he might be on a runaway train with no driver. The panic brought on another memory:

He was with his friend. He was about to tell her that he still loved her, he always loved her, and he wanted to be with her. Just as he opened his mouth, a shadow beside them moved. It was dark on the city street, and someone had stepped in front of the light of a street lamp. A man with wild eyes and pock marks on his face held a knife up to him and his friend. He demanded their wallets and jewelry, they desperately obliged and fumbled for their valuables, handing them over to the thief. Once he’d stuffed everything in his jacket’s oversized pocket, the thief smiled at the man’s friend.

“I think I’ll steal her for a quick moment,” he said grabbing her arm and smiling with rotten teeth.

The man grabbed the thief’s arm with one hand and hit him across the face with his fist with the other. He let go of his friend and the woman screamed telling the man to stop and run. The thief and the man were struggling with the knife, each with two hands on the handle, trying to push the blade in the direction of the other. As the blade started to turn in his direction, the thief kneed the man hard in the groin, causing him to let go and double over. He began to walk away from the man, trying to put distance between them.

“Go!” he yelled to his friend. “Now! Go! I love-”, he stopped as he felt pain radiating out from a spot on his back. Warmth flooded over him and he felt another point of pain, and another as he crumpled onto the sidewalk and listened to the one he loved scream his name in horror.

He looked up and out the window at the Colorado landscape passing him by with increasing speed. The intensity of light grew until the sun lit up the sand and rock so much it was practically white. Tears ran down the man’s face. He had failed his most important task, his one real reason for living and wanting to be alive: to be with her.

The train gained speed again. The landscape flashed by on all sides, growing ever brighter.

His phone rang, it was the number from before. The voice of the psychic spoke: “Hello, Mitch? Are you there?”, it was full of static but he could still make out the words.

“Yes, I’m here”, he said.

“I’m here with Adalynn”, she said. “She wants me to tell you she loves and misses you and she’s very sorry”.

Mitch smiled as tears coursed down his face. He choked out the words “I love her too” as the train accelerated hard and the Colorado landscape grew brighter and he was engulfed by white sunlight. As the world turned white, it gave way to his childhood, the beginning. A crying baby was being cradled by a new mother. He was given a second chance.