The Eighth Notch

I wake up with a pounding headache. I rub my temples. I guess I had too much to drink. The last thing I remember is having dinner with three friends from work. I open and close my eyes several times, trying to adjust to the light. I sit up, and the room is spinning. No, not spinning . . . just moving and moving fast. Is the room moving? I think to myself. That’s when I feel the hard surface beneath me. I ball up my fists and rub my eyes, and look around.

When did I get on a train? I check my pockets for a train ticket. It will give me an idea of how long I’ve been here and where I’m going. No ticket? My heart is pounding. I should also have a purse with a wallet, phone, and keys. I look on the seat next to me, and I check under the seats. All my belongings are missing. I’ve been robbed. Well . . . what time is it? At least that will give me a clue to how long I’ve been here. I went to dinner at 7:00, and it’s now, I raise my left arm to check the time, and my watch is gone.

I scream!

I’ve been robbed. I’m alone. And I have no way to contact anybody. Who knows I’m here? Oh, Gawd, please tell me I told somebody I was taking the train home. And why did I take the train? Why didn’t I drive? Yes, I must have had too much to drink, and my friends put me on the train. I almost laugh at how foolish I’ve been. Then a sinking feeling hits me in the pit of my stomach. I was so drunk that I passed out, and my friends put me on a train by myself, without my stuff.

No, no, they wouldn’t do that. I must not be alone. Someone else is on this train. I jump up and race up and down all the train cars. They’re all empty. I press the emergency button for the conductor, but I only get dead air. Is the train picking up speed? At first, I thought this was an express train, but it’s going too fast. I’m on a runaway train!

This has to have something to do with my father. Sometimes, I hate being a politician’s daughter. He’s always telling me to pay attention to my surroundings. Was it that disgruntled guy at the restaurant? At the time, I thought he was harmless. Were his angry rants about city officials something I should have taken seriously? Is that why I’m here now?

I sit on the closet seat. So, this is the way I die. And it all could have been avoided. I start hyperventilating. I can’t catch my breath. By this time, I’m sobbing hysterically.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I almost jump out of my skin. A woman stands in the aisle next to me. I thought that the train was empty. How did I miss her? Maybe this train has a bathroom. I’m relieved to see another person, even though she’s dressed funny. She’s wearing a long green cloak with a hood. She looks very 17th century, I think. She must be coming from a costume party or on her way to one.

“So, I guess you want off this train.” She says calmly.

My eyes are as big as saucers. “Yes, yes I do. Do you know how to make that happen?”

“Yes.” Why is she so calm?

I jump up, “Tell me!”

“We’re on this train because of you. Only you can stop this train.”

I sit back down. What a letdown. I thought she was about to hand me the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. I liked it better when I was alone instead of stuck with this crazy woman.

“Saundra, why were you so upset at dinner? Your companions were nice enough. It was a beautiful restaurant. The food was good, prepared just how you like it. So, what was the problem?”

I turn and give her a long look. “How do you know my name?”

“You know, it’s rude to answer a question with a question.” I roll my eyes. “Very well, you know you always tell your students that it’s rude to answer a question with a question. Let’s say I’m never far from you.”

That’s not all comforting.

Wait! “Did my father send you?”

She laughs. “No. He doesn’t even know we’re here.” She gets serious again. “Why do you think he would’ve sent me?”

I shake my head. I look out the window at the sights zooming by. Do I want to entertain this woman? I try to look at her. I look her up and down. She doesn’t look crazy. The cloak is gone. Her dark, umber brown skin is flawless. Her hair is in an afro. She’s wearing a black crop top with about ten gold bangles on her left wrist, big gold hoop earrings, and a copper-colored sarong. She has open-toed shoes, showing off her pretty feet and perfectly manicured toenails. No, she’s not crazy.

“My father’s a politician, and occasionally he’ll have an undercover cop tail me. You know, there’s a lot of crazies in this world.”

“Must be nice to have a father go to such lengths to protect you.”

I shrug, “I guess.”

“So, why did you say a moment ao that you hate being a politician's daughter?”

Why does that matter? We’re about to die anyway; I think to myself. “I don’t know. Wait, I never said that.”

She looks stricken with fear. Yeah, you’re busted, I think. Then I see that she’s not looking at me. She is looking in front of us. We’re about to run out of track and hit a brick wall. If we’re going to stop this train, we must do it now.

She blinks and looks at me. “Maybe you thought it. Look, both you and this train are in the eighth notch.”

“The what?”

“The eighth notch, it’s the last notch on the throttle.” Her words are rushed, and she’s not making any sense to me. “And your thoughts are uncontrolled. The eighth notch is the most powerful position, making it the hardest position to control. Your thoughts are powerful things and are taking you somewhere you don’t want to go fast. Think! Appreciate something, anything. Think of something that is pleasing.”

We’re gonna die! My head screams at me. I look at the fast-approaching wall, and then at her, “I can’t think of anything.”

“Try! Make something up.”

“I want to live!” I jump and hit my head on . . . something soft?

My head lands on my pillow. I’m in my bed. Whew! It was a dream. It felt so real. It’s time to try something new. It’s a new day. I’m so happy to be alive. No more eighth notch for me.