The Fields Beyond Green Mountain

The sounds of a train moving along its tracks were unmistakable; the chugging of the engine, the rhythmic clunk of the wheels meeting each new length of track, the occasional metallic squeak. In them, Sage had always found comfort. She allowed her eyes to linger beneath their covers, taking in all she could, fully aware that once they were opened, the peace of the moment would be lost.

The immediate view was one of lifeless soil extending from the base of the track and up a slight embankment just high enough to reach above the base of the car. Only now, upon witnessing the steady shades of brown passing by did she become aware of her discomfort – seated, slumped against the wall, her head resting against the glass receiving a slight jolt with each bump in the tracks. Raising her head revealed a barren landscape of empty fields leading up to leafless trees.

Familiarizing herself with her immediate surroundings, she found herself seated, pressed slightly into the wall of the car, sharing a small, thinly padded bench with an elderly couple. Facing her, across the short open space, sat a middle-aged mother and her two children, a boy and girl she judged to be between the ages of 8 and 10. Sage glanced at the mother who promptly turned away upon receiving the look.

‘Strange that she should look away so readily’, she thought to herself as she turned her gaze back to the window.

The morning sun was just high enough to reach above the passing trees illuminating the countryside without having fully removed the morning dew. Sage’s thoughts returned to the mother seated across from her. For an instant, she felt there something familiar in her. She closed her eyes and attempted to picture the woman’s face. As she searched her memories for the context to match the face, she noticed the rhythm of the wheels rolling along the tracks had increased. She paid it no attention – likely they had only departed a short time ago and the train was still picking up speed.

Her inner interrogation continued. ‘Was it at the station? Was it as simple as our paths crossing only moments ago?’ Sage thought to herself.

As she began to focus her search on the station, she was startled by the realization that she had none. Not of purchasing a ticket or boarding the train nor of taking her seat. In an instant, her eyes flashed open, her body instantly frozen with the shocking revelation.

The whistle of the engine sounded startling her. A sign approached – “Green Mountain” was all it said.

She looked across to the mother who was tending to her daughter. Frantically, she looked to the old couple seated next to her. The old woman remained still, expressionless, her subdued gaze fixed as she stared directly to the front. The old man’s head was tilted back, his eyes closed. Page focused her stare on the floor, her thoughts racing – ‘How did I get here?’ she thought to herself over and over. The questions compounded – ‘where is here and Where am I going?’

Moments later the car door located behind her opened. She heard the conductor call out, “Tickets”, but was far too deep in her thoughts to give any attention to her surroundings.

“Ticket ma’am”, the conductor repeated speaking directly to Sage.

She did not respond; her mind racing; her stare fixed to the floor.

“Ma’am, your ticket”, the conductor said, slightly more forceful with a pronounced lean in Sage’s direction.

She looked up to the conductor’s stern face. “Ticket?” Sage replied.

“Yes”, he replied. “You’re on the train, surely you purchased a ticket! Perhaps your husband in the smoking car ahead has your ticket?”

“My husband?”, she replied.

The conductor looked to the old couple seated next to her, “You folks have any idea what this one’s story is?” gesturing to Sage as he punched their tickets.

“I never seen the likes of her before” the old man replied to which the old woman added, “Perhaps she doesn’t belong here?” still looking forward.

Sage looked to the old woman, unsure of what to make of the comment. Just as she prepared to turn her attention back to the conductor the old woman turned to her. Sage looked into her eyes, “You don’t belong to this car the way the rest of us do” the old woman said.

“Maybe you’re right grandma” stated the conductor as he punched the tickets for the mother and her children. He gave a short bow, turned, and simply continued down the aisle punching tickets as if Sage’s presence didn’t matter in the slightest.

At first, she was confused at why he would just walk away, but this quickly gave way to her internal recognition - she really didn’t belong there. She didn’t just feel out of place, she knew she was out of place. She suddenly felt a cold shiver run down her spine as her body became tense as emptiness overwhelmed her. The interior of the car rapidly began to darken as the morning sun, fully present only minutes before, had vanished. The cause for the sudden darkness wasn’t from the clouds of some ominous storm - there was no storm. Beyond the train and tracks, there was nothing.

The dim interior lights began flickered and shook from side to side obscuring her view of the other passengers but for brief moments.

“Where is this train going?” Sage spoke to the mother across the way. She could just make out the mother’s slight smirk to the old woman.

“Where are we going?” Sage repeated, this time looking to the old woman.

Eerily, the old woman spoke without acknowledging Sage, still staring hopelessly ahead - “To the jagged Rock Island. It’s just ahead.”

At this, Sage stood looking up then down the length of the car through the flickering light. She was just able to make out the silhouettes of the other passengers rising above their seatbacks. As she stepped toward the aisle the car shifted violently, tossing her to the floor of the center pathway. The train was now moving much faster. The chugging of the engines had become so rapid it was nearly a consistent tone. The once peaceful rhythm of the tracks was now deafening. Terror gripped her as her hands began to shake in the chaos of the moment that suddenly crashed down on her.

The passengers remained fixed, each seated perfectly upright, moving side to side with the rocking of the car. Looking up from her position on the floor to their faces, she could only make out the occasional blank stare, consistent through it was.

She looked to the mother. The darkness gave way briefly and from her new perspective, the answer she had searched for abruptly came to her. She had indeed known this woman, but long before anyone could call her mother.

‘Elizabeth’ she murmured to herself. It was back at her days at Emma. They had once shared a life and a common space, for a short while anyway. As the train’s continued to grow around her, in an instant Sage the years of suppressed memories came rushing back all at once - the late-night discussions, the forbidden love they once shared and most of all, the despair of their forced detachment.

She looked back to the mother who was now staring straight back at her. Frightened by the unexpected stern look, Sage froze.

Gently, the mother spoke, “we’ll meet again, in the wake of the ruptured white star, dress warmly my love.”

Through the ear-piercing screech of the train’s brakes, Sage called out, “Elizabeth”.

The screeching of the wheels gave way to the crashing of the cars. As the view turned completely black, just as she began to feel the crushing force of the ruptured metal, she gasped for air and raising her torso from her bed, she let out a horrified scream.

The nightmare, it seemed, was over.

To her side, her husband Henry lay, jolted awake by Sage’s sudden outburst.

“Jesus, what in the…are you alright?” asked Henry.

Sage only sat their panting, replaying the events of the dream, attempting to capture each moment before they were lost to the daylight.

Henry again inquired, “What happened?”

Looking to Henry, Sage gave a broad description of the dream, stopping short of the specifics.

Henry was mostly unimpressed, more amused than sympathetic. He rose from the bed and began making his way to the in-suite bathroom.

Sage began to elaborate. “There was a woman there I was at school with at Emma.”

“In your dream?” Henry stood in the doorway drying his hands with a towel.

“She spoke to me”, Sage went on without acknowledging his question. “It’s almost as if she was trying to warn me of something”.

“Warning you? What did she say?”

Pausing, she looked to Henry, “It doesn’t matter. It was just a dream.”

“Sounds pretty scary”, as he turned back to the bathroom.

He went on, “Reminds me of a bad train accident from a few years ago, somewhere out in Iowa. Green something. Green river, green hill…”

“Green Mountain”, Sage interjected.

“Yeah, that’s it. The Rock Island line. Killed 50 something people. Women, children…horrible scene from what the papers said.”

Petrified, Sage leapt from the bed toward the porthole across the room. As she made her way, the ship listed slightly and she lost her footing, falling to the floor.

At the sound of her thud on the floor, Henry turned back to the room, “Careful dear. God may not be able to sink her, but she still moves like any other ship.”

From the floor, Sage looked up to Henry’s face. She felt great despair at his cheerful ignorance. “In the wake of the ruptured white star” she murmured to herself.