Empty Trains

Oh, my head. It was throbbing with each beat of my heart. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. The jostling didn’t help either.

Jostling?

I sat up and a wave of nausea washed over me, sending shivers up my spine and down my legs. I braced against the platform I’d been lying against. Only when these tremors passed did I hazard to open my eyes.

A train car?

I haven’t ridden many trains—the metro, the few times when I’ve been in the city, was spartan, with plastic seats and filthy floors, and one long window from door to door. Where I was right now had a thick, soft carpet—which is what I was lying on—and equally soft-looking plush seats. I could see private windows at each seat, but it was dark outside.

Still, fluorescent lights overhead assured me I still lived in this century, and still made my head ache. What had I done? Gotten blitzed and hoped on a luxury train?

I felt around in my pockets. Thankfully, I still had my wallet, and most of my cash. I did not have my keys, or a train ticket. Think. Think. Last night I had… had…

Delilah wanted to meet up for a few drinks. It was the first time she’d made half an effort to see me since her wedding last summer, so of course I’d said yes. She wanted to go to one of our classic haunts, the Drunk Duck, even though we’d outgrown the place before we’d even finished undergrad. But Li wanted it, and I gave Li what she wanted.

We got a heavy appetizer, cheese sticks, and a cocktail each. Li chatted on about the firm and paying her dues. Eddie, three years older than us, had made partner already. I wasn’t going to bother but still she headed me off—

“He does have more experience than me and had an internship and an offer his third year. It’s not a boys’ club thing. I’ll make partner by 31 too.”

I nodded along. I hadn’t said a word in thirty minutes. Li had finished her cocktail and ordered another. Mine was still three-quarters full.

What happened after that? I didn’t drink much with Li anymore. She tended to let loose and then needed someone (me) to get her the whole way back home. Maybe I’d gotten spiked with something? This didn’t feel like any hangover I’d ever had.

The nausea had mostly subsided, and my eyes had adjusted even if my head hadn’t. I hazarded getting off the floor, gripping the seats and pausing as every new movement made me sick again. My stomach was strong, though, and I made it to my feet.

No one else was on my train car. Well, at least no one had seen my abject humiliation. Maybe that was why I had no ticket? I’d snuck on?

I looked out the window closest to me. It was dark, but now I could see that it was night. Up in the sky, still no matter how fast I was moving, was the crescent moon. I turned away to—

The moon was full last night.

I remembered.

I had looked up at it and made a wish. A silly little custom I’d developed as a girl. A wish on the full moon for the month ahead. It had been as Li and I were leaving, her tucked beneath my arm. I’d looked up and wished…

The memory slipped away.

OK. OK. I had to find another person. These old styles usually had dining cars, right? Someone had to be there. I’d plead insanity if they asked for my ticked. No, I’d be upfront. Tell them I woke up with no memory. I’m very sorry I don’t have a ticket. I don’t really even know where I am. Please help me. Yes. If I could cry a little, just a little watery eye, that might help, too.

The gap between train cars was small, and, even though my heart pounded, I passed from my car to the next.

It was also empty.

No big deal. That’s probably why no one found me: the last few cars were empty. I crossed this car too, freezing as I saw a flicker in the corner of my eye. I tried to follow it, but there was nothing there.

The next car was empty too. I repeated my mantra as I strode across the car. Then, again, about three-quarters of the way through the car, something danced at the edge my vision. This time I was sure it was in the window, but what could be outside a moving train?

Another car. This time I counted my steps. Eyes forward. One…two…three…

On my eighteenth step I saw the flicker again. I took two steps back and tried again. OK.

I passed through to a fifth car. Counted my steps. Eighteen. Flicker. This time I was fairly sure it was a person in the window. It was impossible, surely, but that’s what my mind—still throbbing with an unremembered hangover—said.

I went back to the beginning of the car and strode forward again. At the eighteenth step I know that I saw a person in the window. They were gone the second that I tried to make eye contact. I retraced again. There had to be people in the next car, had to be, and I couldn’t keep running this experiment then.

This time when I turned my head the face stayed just for a split second. Not long enough to discern anything, but I knew it was there. I was getting somewhere.

I walked three-fourths of the car four more times. The face kept disappearing. I had to make it stay longer, somehow. I had to see who was looking at me from the other side.

“I’ve missed seeing you. I’m sorry I kinda disappeared after the wedding. There was just so much to do with work and Eddie’s partners have a ‘little wives’ club going on.”

I must have grimaced. She looked down at her drink.

“I’ve not been feeling so well, Annie, and Eddie finally got me to go to the doctor…”

We were leaving the bar, Li tucked under my arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she muttered.

I shushed her and smoothed her hair, finishing the ritual with a little kiss. I caught sight of the moon and made a wish…

Delilah had been sick? What kind of sick? Her mom had MS, but she had been well enough to go the wedding. Stupid blackout memory.

Retracing my steps wasn’t working. I’d have to go to the next car.

Still no one. I stalked to the end of the car, not caring about the stupid face in the window. I needed to see an actual person on this train and get off. Call Delilah and ask her what she’d said. I threw open the door to the next car.

Empty.

I sped through this car. The image tugged at my reflexes, but I ignored it.

Empty.

I ran.

Empty.

I ran.

Empty.

I ran.

Empty.

This time I slammed the door and retreated to the car I was just at. I had to be going the wrong way. They wouldn’t be running a completely empty train. I would just double back.

I ran through car after car. Instead of counting my steps I counted the cars. Three. Seven. Nine. Eleven. Fourteen. Twenty-two. I collapsed.

My headache, kept in check by the fear, came rushing back. The train car seemed to spin around me.

I looked up at the moon and made a wish. “I wish that Delilah gets better.”

I took her home.

Eddie met us at the door.

“Why don’t you come in, Annie,” he said, looking at his wife. “Did she…”

“She told me,” I whispered. I very much did not want to be alone with the knowledge that my half-blacked out friend was dying. I didn’t want to leave this man, recently married, soon to be widowed, alone. I stepped over their threshold.

I rose to my feet. It was Delilah’s face in the window of a train. She was mouthing “I’m sorry.”

I started screaming.