Muhtale Train

Kenny attempted to move his legs after having drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed like days. “Where am I?”, he thought as he struggled to think clearly and recall where he was. Every inch of his body was soaking wet. Was it sweat? Surely it couldn’t be sweat. “Did someone rescue me from drowning?” “Where in the world have I been?”

Kenny wiped his arm across his eyes to try and adjust to his surroundings. “It feels like I’ve been drugged,” he thought, as he groggily blinked his eyes in succession. “I could swear I was being interrogated by a talking bear for hours last night.” “Must have been some drug,” he decided as he stood to look out of the window. Although it had been many years, he was very familiar with the effects of hallucinogenic drugs.

The landscape was bare sans the different colors of green, yellow, blue and red that repeated in succession every few minutes or so. Kenny searched his coat and pants pockets, looking for some sort of ticket that would show where he was headed. It was clear now that he was on some sort of high speed train although his destination was unknown. Kenny searched for his cell phone so that he could call his girlfriend Barbara. Surely, she would know what had happened to him. The cell phone rang over and over again with no answer. “Ugh, barely any bars,” Kenny moaned as he held the phone up in the air trying to locate a signal. Kenny tried dialing his best friend Allan’s number for help. The two of them were extremely close and had known each other since college. “Maybe he’s more than a friend. What exactly are we?,” Kenny thought as he listened to the phone incessantly ring while guilt set in strong. “At least I tried to call Barbara first,” he rationalized.

As the train came around the corner Kenny saw massive lines of race cars lined up as if they were in a race against the train. Kenny stood mesmerized at the window as the different colors rotated in succession and reflected off the train’s windows. A few miles later, at the next noticeable curve, Kenny turned his ear towards a very familiar sound, that of a motorcycle revving in the distance. The train was hurtling itself towards an unknown destination at a rapid pace when all of a sudden Kenny could make out a white shape with a flowy white cape riding parallel to the train, almost as if it were racing the train.

“Is that person here to rescue me? Does he know I’m on this train?,” Kenny asked himself out loud. After observing the individual on the motorcycle race against the train while never attempting to approach, Kenny solemnly gave up on the notion that the rescue wagon had arrived. If he was to get off this train, he had to leave the confines of the rail car he was in and assess the situation.

Before he could even bend over to tie his shoes, Kenny felt the stinging sensation of a sharp, stream of water and was thrown forward from the pressure of the blast. “Holy cow,” Ken belted out loud, turning ever so slightly to see the source of his assailant. Another blast of water shot from out of nowhere causing Kenny to stagger backward against the wall.

Instinctively, Kenny crouched down and waited for time to pass, all the while trying not to acknowledge the increasingly fast build-up of motion sickness inside him. As if on a timed schedule, Kenny could hear the engines of several race cars getting increasingly louder and then aggressively taking off to race against the train. And then again, shortly thereafter, with the precision of a Swiss clock, Kenny could hear the far off distant sound of a motorcycle racing and approaching the train, yet always maintaining a parallel position to the train. First the race cars, then the motorcycle, then the race cars again, then back to the motorcycle. Kenny crouched just below the window to figure out his next move. Given the pattern of the race cars and the motorcycle, combined with the ever growing queasy feeling, Kenny was certain that the train he was on was somehow locked in a circular path, akin to an abandoned boat in the water that becomes a death trap when it is inadvertently locked in a circular pattern after its inhabitants are thrown from the boat. It was at that moment that Kenny knew that if he was going to get off that train that he had to find out what was going on in the engine car.

All of a sudden, Kenny heard some loud screams that sounded like they were coming from outside the train. Without warning, and with a seemingly organized approach, Kenny saw what appeared to be an army of men with camouflage-printed parachutes float past the window of the rail car. Without hesitation, Kenny ducked down from sight, careful to not be seen by the soldiers. He had no idea whether or not they were friendly or perhaps the reason for why he was on this train.

After the paratroopers had fled the scene was when Kenny decided that it was time to get to the front of the train to try and shut it down. The familiar sound of the motorcycle came just as Kenny walked to the end of his rail car to peer into the rail car ahead. Just as Kenny was about to traverse to the next rail car is when he heard the low, guttural growls. He placed his face on the front window and cupped his hands around his eyes to peer into the next rail car. Suddenly, and without warning, what appeared to be a large German Shepherd hurtled itself against the window causing Kenny to stumble backwards. The German Shepherd set off a fiery round of ferocious barking. Kenny peered through the window once again and could identify what appeared to be a pack of dogs, each with its own distinctive colored hat.

“That’s odd,” Kenny thought as he backed away from the window. “Where in the world am I? And why can’t I remember anything?”

Kenny went to the opposite end of the rail car and cautiously peered through the window. Nothing. It was empty and looked menacing. Perhaps it’s a trap he thought to himself while contemplating his next move. “It is suffocatingly hot in here,” Kenny whispered as he took off his wet cardigan. Barbara had bought him the cardigan for his birthday. He had set his sights on the cardigan and may have casually mentioned it to her on more than one occasion. Now here it was soaking wet and sagging while draped around his shoulders, and loosely tied in the front. “Allan would be totally grossed out right now at the sight of a wet cardigan,” Kenny mused as he wrung the water out and tied it more securely around his neck.

Green, yellow, blue, red, blue, yellow, green…

Green, yellow, blue, red, blue, yellow, green…

The colors from the “racetrack” outside the train flashed in succession in the same pattern with the same, steady pace since he awoke. “What could it mean,” he wondered as he checked his phone again to see if Allan…or even Barbara…had tried calling. “Why is no one looking for me?” he sighed.

Kenny bowed his head to peacefully rest for a moment when the torrential downpouring of water began again! The force of the first blast knocked him over onto the floor of the rail car. The pain was unbearable. It felt like sharp razors were slicing their way all over his body. Kenny scrambled to get to his feet and hurled himself into the menacingly dark rail car – anything to get away from the water blasts. The door to the railcar inexplicably slammed shut behind him.

After a few minutes Kenny’s eyes began to adjust to the darkness and he could make out his surroundings. Standing on the far side of the railcar stood a multi-colored brick wall, essentially blocking the exit into the next rail car. If he was going to continue to the front of the train he would have to somehow get past this obstacle. Kenny took off his once-again soaked cardigan and tossed it into the corner. He turned to face the brick wall when all hell broke loose.

The train abruptly stopped on its tracks. Kenny once again flew inside the rail car and hit the brick wall. The pain was excruciating. Water began coming in fast and furious. The realization that the rail car was filling up with water hit him like a ton of bricks. The irony that he had just hit a ton of bricks when the train abruptly stopped was not lost on him.

Kenny darted back and forth as he frantically searched for a way out. The rail car was filling up at an incredibly fast rate. He only had minutes before he would be completely submerged. Kenny could feel panic setting in and he could barely breathe. His chest heaved as he struggled to control his panic while trying to breathe. Out of the corner of Kenny’s eye he could see the white-clothed man on the motorcycle uncharacteristically paused and just standing…staring at the train…white cape no longer billowing in the wind. Kenny saw flashes of Allan, shirtless and laughing as he washed his Corvette, slinging suds all over the place. He could see Barbara, in her glamorous Christmas gown, welcoming guests into their home. His entire life continued to flash before his eyes as the railcar continued to fill up with water. The water was so deep that Kenny was treading water now. He swam over to the window and began banging it as hard as he could.

“Help! Someone help me! Helpppp!” he screamed. He swam to the other side of the rail car.

“Help! Over here! Somebody hellllp me!”

All of the race cars were stopped. It was as if time was standing still and the only life in the room was the life he was fighting for – “Why is this happening?” Kenny cried out. But no help came. Kenny floated on his back and braced his hands against the ceiling as if there was a chance he could push through it but he knew it was over. He closed his eyes.

********

“Maxxxx, nooooooo! You can’t do that, honey – put that water gun away. I’ve told you a million times baby that you are to only use that water gun OUTside. Look at this mess! Oh no, your Ken doll is soaking wet now. There is water all over this room.”

“But mommy, I put my Twister mat down so my carpet wouldn’t get wet.”

“Oh no, your talking teddy bear is laying in some water too – I hope he still works! And look at all your legos in the water. Did you get your Paw Patrol dog plushies wet too? You have to clean this mess up Max – every single one of these army men too – I want them dried off and put away. Same for every single one of these Hot Wheels – and put your Evil Knievel doll and motorcycle back on the shelf so your sister doesn’t get to it and break it. That is a collectible and should stay on your shelf, honey.”