The A-Tone Train

Clyde wakes up with his world swirling around him. The first thing he sees is a painted wooden door in front of him. Without a thought of hesitation he scrambles to his feet and stumbles toward the door. As he feels his fingers wrap around the cold metal handle he hears a voice behind him.

“I wouldn’t open that door if I were you,” the voice announced.

Clyde spins around quickly making the dizziness in his head intensify. He clutches his head with a groan. The voice chuckles and commiserates, “I’ve been there before. Why don’t you take a load off and pull up a seat.” The person pats the seat next to him.

The blur from Clyde’s vision slowly fades away as he sees an older gentleman patting the seat of a barstool. As he makes his way over on jellylegs he finally starts to take in his surroundings. It seems as if he were in the refreshment car of a luxury train. Though he had no memory of purchasing a train ticket let alone boarding one. As he plops down into the barstool the gentleman slides him over a drink.

Clyde takes one look at the drink and slides it back over. “Thanks, but I don’t drink.” He takes that moment to really look at the man that is sharing the compartment with him. The man and older gentleman with slicked back hair that is mostly gray but still has remnants of the dark brown from his youth. It’s thinning in the front which the man clearly tries to hide with an ill fitting fedora. His eyes, a dark blue, have a mischievous glint while the edges are lined with crows feet. Clyde gets an uneasy feeling that he’s met this guy before but he can’t remember. ‘Must be someone from those days,’ he thinks to himself ashamedly.

“So who are you and where am I?” Clyde asks in a wouldbe calm voice.

The man gives a knowing grin. “You good sir are on the A-tone train,” the gentleman replies as the train whistle blows in a long drawn out A note. “Must be noon,” the man comments matter of factly with a slight chuckle in his voice.

“Ookkay,” Clyde says in a drawn out confused tone. “So this is the A train but you still haven’t answered my other question. Who are you?”

The man knocks back his drink and lets out a soft hiss as the alcohol burns the back of his throat. “Well it’s actually the A-Tone Train and the name’s Zachariah but most just call me Zach,” he replies as he extends his hand for a handshake which Clyde shakes. “Now maybe you can inform me of your name.”

“Oh shit,” Clyde mutters, forgetting his manners, “I’m Clyde. Most just call me Clyde. And where’s this A-Tone train going?”

The man lets out a barking laugh. “Well nice to meet you, Clyde. And if you want to get an idea of where we’re going I suggest looking out the window,” Zach suggests as he gets up and fishes behind the bar grabbing a bottle of whiskey before pouring it over the ice in his glass.

Clyde turns away from Zach as he pours himself a drink. He gets to his feet and slowly walks over to the window, his legs still a bit shaky. Clyde lifts one of the blinds and is greeted to an unbelievable sight. It was an inky black void with the lights of countless trains streaking past each other. Several times it looked as if some of the trains would collide into each other but each time they narrowly missed. Every time it happened a bright light seemed to pass between the trains. Clyde staggered away from the window in shock.

“What the hell is this?!” he asks in a raged panic. Clyde looks over at Zach with a wild mad expression.

Zach takes a swig of his drink and gives a tiny grimace. “This dear Clyde is the A-Tone Train and while I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he pauses as he stares at Clyde intently, “you sir are dead.”

Clyde staggers back, colliding with the wall behind him. He grabs his chest feeling as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs. The flickered echoes of screeching tires ring in his ears. As he tries to shake thoughts away. “Y..you’re wrong,” Clyde chokes out. “You have to be.”

Zach pours himself another drink before pouring one for Clyde. “I think you may want that drink now.”

Clyde staggers back over to Zach feeling like his legs were once again made of jelly. He takes his glass of whiskey and throws it at the wall. “I said I don’t drink!” he insists loudly in a voice that is desperately trying to be calm but failing miserably.

Zach puts his hands up in a placating way. “Alright, alright you don’t drink,” he affirms as he backs off his seat. Grabbing a cane Clyde hadn’t noticed he limps over behind the bar and grabs a cup and fills the bottom third with ice before grabbing the soda gun. “Pick your poison,” he jests light heartedly trying to lighten the mood.

Clyde takes a deep breath before slowly letting it out. “Whatever lemon-lime drink they got on tap, they’re basically all the same,” he mutters as he slowly gains more and more of his composure. Zach trying to be nice, even after his outburst, helped. There was a silence between them where the only sounds that could be heard were the stream of the soda hitting the ice making them crack and pop with the fizz following shortly after. The soft clatter of the train wheels can be heard all around them with others echoing in the distance. It seemed as if they sat in that near silence for ages when Zach slid the glass full of soda over to Clyde.

“One lemon-lime soda on the house,” Zach says with a bit of a cheeky grin.

Clyde gives him a little smirk and a single under the breath chuckle. “Thanks,” he replies as he lifts his glass to Zach. “Also I’m sorry about my outburst.” Clyde pauses and looks down for a moment before looking back up. “It’s just that I promised someone that I wouldn’t drink and I intend to keep that promise. Even here.”

Zach nods sagely. “Well you’re not a man unless you keep your promises so I commend you.” He then grabs himself a glass, puts ice in it and fills it with lemon-lime soda. “Cheers,” he says as he raises his glass with Clyde softly clinking them together.

They both take a long drink before Clyde asks, “So if I’m dead what is this place? Doesn’t seem like hell but it’s definitely not heaven.”

“Well the traditional heaven and hell doesn’t exist,” Zach explains as he takes another swig of his drink. “The closest thing this would be called is Limbo. Apparently everyone gets peace. The only price is reliving your sins from your victim's perspective. Many don’t want to face their past and end up stranded in refreshment cars just like this.”

Clyde lets that news sink into him before he looks intently at Zach and asks, “You stuck here?”

Zach chuckles as he shakes his head. “Nah, just needed a little respite before moving on. The only way to peace after all is through.”

Clyde gives a crooked smile and gives a chuckle of his own. “The only way out is through,” he mutters more to himself than anything.

Zach nods his head in agreement as he steps out from behind the bar. “I agree and with that sentiment I think it’s time for me to move on. I hope to see you in peace one day.” He makes his way over to the door and opens it.

The light coming from the door nearly blinds Clyde forcing him to shield his eyes with his hand. An odd smile is the last he sees of Zach. In a flash the gentleman is gone leaving Clyde alone leaving a silence that was only filled with the clatter of train wheels. Clyde takes a deep calming breath before slowly exhaling. He then drained his drink in one gulp before getting up with a slap on the knee.

He feels as if his heart is racing though there was no beat in his chest. Slowly on weak legs he makes his way over to the door Zach had just walked through. His fingers once again found and wrapped around the metal handle this time no voice telling him to stop. “The only way out is through,” he says to himself before opening the door. The same light blinded him but he stepped forward regardless thinking, ‘I’ll see you soon.’