The Fireman

There was a small sliver of light calling through the little dark cabin like a trumpet but it was the scream of the steam which pulled me from my sleep and into a nightmare that has haunted me to this day. Constantly I wash my hands to try and get the smell of the stains out, scrubbing, scrubbing in vain and the steam whistle would be the only scream that I remember hearing from that day. The light focused on a golden nametag that read "Terry", a name that wasn't my own, pinned to a green uniform that wasn’t mine either. What was my name? In the confusion of a hangover unlike any I have experienced before, I squinted through the small hole where the light leaked through in an attempt to orient myself, and the wheels, the wheels turned relentlessly. We must have been going upwards of 60mph. I couldn't hear myself think. I was on a mountain, somewhere far away from the sun-kissed beaches of California, or maybe I was somewhere close. The verdurous foliage and abundant wildlife suggested somewhere else, but I had no idea. How long had I been out? Pines on the mountains reached towards the heavens, and purple flowers were standing tall, too, and optimistic, towards the sun that was hidden by the clouds, but the whole world was gray. I had no recollection of where we were going. I looked down through the hole and the drop made me nauseous, but down in the valley there was a line of horses all stopped and waiting for something. As the train descended the mountain, we approached what was holding up the line: a fallen horse and the rider who was tending to it. We were getting closer and closer, close enough to see that the man in tattered hemp and jeans, with arms stretched around its neck, was trying desperately to hydrate the horse with what was left of his canteen, but it wasn’t until we passed that the horror of the scene stole my breath for the longest minute of my life. The horse was choking on what seemed to be some kind of crude oil, black and horrible, spilling back into the ground. The horse was whimpering and struggling with what pathetic strength it had left to free itself from the embrace of his rider. The rider seemed to be screaming through tears, although the sound of his screams was swallowed by the chugging of the wheels. The steam from the engine, instead of lifting and disappearing into the sky, fell like a pesticide on the line of horses and devoured them instantly, leaving no trace of them except for their bones. I was sick in horror, and my head was spinning, and I pressed my eyes shut so that I may focus them better on the horror, to make absolutely sure that this was real; but when I looked on the spot in which the rider cradled his thoroughbred, there wasn’t a soul in sight, no horses, no riders anywhere, just the earth. To say I was confused doesn’t quite express the state I had been thrust into. My heart seemed to synchronize with the pumping of the pistons. I started to sweat. "Who the hell is Terry?" I wondered in a desperate attempt to escape whatever new world in which I found myself. I groped through the darkness of the cabin for answers: nothing, nothing, until my fingers dipped into a puddle of slime. Hesitantly, I raised my hand into the dusty sliver of light to reveal that the slime was oil.

Again, the low, booming whistle, like a furnace of sound, spun me around in the cabin and filled my heart with dread and plumed black into the clean air. I could hear it bounce back against the trees. Its reach seemed unending. The stampede of the wheels chugging and grating against the tracks slowly grew into a white noise, and after much time of sitting in the darkness, I accepted it as much as one accepts silence. And then, there was a knock, and before I could respond the door slid open as light poured into the cabin, silhouetting a large, brawny man in a green steward uniform who greeted me warmly. I struggled to accept this initial warmth without suspicion which he registered immediately. “Are you okay, Mr. Bennett?” he inquired, detached and automated. His mustache looked like an unkempt guinea pig sleeping on his lip, obscuring his smiles. “Where am I?” I asked him, squinting. “I don’t understand, we were all asking where you had gone, Mr. Bennett! We were starting to worry!” Again, the train howled over the mountains. "Stop. Where the hell am I?" I insisted. "Mr. Bennett? White Pass, out of Skagway, nearing the Yukon territory." I laughed in disbelief, "Is this some kind of a joke? Who are you and why am I here? What do you want?" "Mr. Bennett, I don't understand. Are you alright? Can I get you some water? We need you back in the engine cab immediately." "The engine cab?" "The apprentice has taken over in your absence, and he has sufficed, but I worry at what cost to the locomotive. For you and I both know that the railroads never sleep. Now that you are found, I think it's best that you return to your post." "I don't know anything about trains and I don't know why I am here. Please, let me go, let me off." He picked me up and draped my arm over his shoulder and started dragging me toward the engine. "Mr. Bennett, the fireman said you were off your head, screaming, unhinged, stark-raving mad! Maybe it would be best to mentor the apprentice through the remainder of the route. His turns are especially concerning although I admire his confidence in our climbing speed." He was right, I hadn't noticed until he mentioned the speed. Our speed was pushing somewhere between 70 and 75 mph. I rubbed my eyes with my free hand as if it would alleviate my fatigue. "Please," I begged, "I don't know anything about trains and I don't know why I'm here, or who you are or the apprentice or the fireman or anyone, so please just tell me something, please. I can't drive this thing. Who are you?" "My name is Alexander McDonald, don't you remember? Everyone calls me Big Alex. Come, let's get you some water." "I'm sorry," I uttered, "I don't even remember my own name." At that moment I looked out of the window and saw the plumes of steam and smoke once again descend, reducing the pines and flowers immediately into ash. I yelled and struggled against Alexander. "Mr. Bennett! Get a hold of yourself. My God! We're going to need you if we are going to make it all the way to The Klondike." "Please, my name isn't Mr. Bennett, please let go of me! Look at the trees! Look!" but just as the corpses of the horses and their riders disappeared, the scorched earth in the blink of an eye returned just as verdant as before. "What should I see? The abominable snowman?" He laughed heartily. "In all seriousness, I hope you come to your senses and help us reach our destination, or else we all may die trying to get there." "Don't you see? We're not the only ones who are going to die trying to get there!" "What the hell are you talking about?" Just then the train's speed bumped up a notch, and the shift caused Big Alex to lose his balance, just enough so that I was completely free, although his grip was never restraining. I ran in the opposite direction of the engine as he called after me over the roar of the machine. I tore open the door to the next car, a passenger car, filled with seats filled with skeletons, laughing, drinking, being merry, as merry as the dead can be. They were dressed in three-piece suits and gowns, adorned with some of the most beautiful jewelry I had ever seen, ostentatious hats with plumes from exotic birds. They were laughing, carrying on as if they hadn't even noticed me, laughing as if everything was fine, maybe everything was, maybe they were laughing at me. I was so out of breath I couldn't even scream. I ran through the car as some of their hands reached into the aisle toward me to stop me, maybe to ask me for something. I tore away, lunged for the door to the next car, but before I threw myself through, I needed to see if they were still there or just some figment of this sickness, this new hysteria that I have never experienced before, nor have since. Gasping for breath like my heart gasping for blood, climbing still 80mph, 85mph, I finally yelled, "You see?!" All of the bones looked back at me. "We're all here! We're all here," I sobbed, defeated as I threw myself into the next car and closed the door. The light was scarce but enough crept in to illuminate a glimmer that spread like a wildfire throughout the pile of gold that lay heaped on the ground. I stood hypnotized as the whistle and pistons and the wheels and the laughter were all silenced by a heavenly ringing, unlike anything I have ever heard before, a ringing that I know now I must have imagined. Transfixed on the gold, my breathing was just starting to stabilize, when a hand reached around my head and covered my mouth with a towel. As I gasped, I felt my knees buckle and my arms grow heavy and weak as everything phased to black.

As I came to, I saw the young man behind the throttles, frantically looking towards the rails, or trying to through the snow and the harsh winds. The fireman noticed me stirring. The top half of his body was considerably larger than his waist and legs, his arms had been built by years of shoveling and keeping the engine running and never sleeping. His hair was disheveled, or what hair he had left, and thinning significantly from years of work, and hung in long strands across his mostly bald head. He stopped his hard work to surmise if I was fit to return to my post that had been imposed upon me. The eye that studied me was as black as night, as the other was clouded by a cataract, damaged by the same force that left a horrible scar across his face. "Get up," he rumbled in a harsh bass voice that shook me to my soul. The young boy behind the throttles glanced over his shoulder quickly before returning his gaze to the rails. As my consciousness came back to me I noticed that the train was going even faster now, maybe 100mph. I had no idea how the information came to me, but I remembered the names and functions of all of the throttles and signals and dials, like a competent surgeon to the body, I knew the entire anatomy of the machine that barreled through the night. The steam descended once again, melting the towers of ice, the snow into rain, and dousing the fires that whispered on the ground until the land before us was nothing but a thick wall of smoke. There were no more trees, no more plants, no more flowers or birds or deer or horses or anything, there was only ash and the smoke that escaped it, hissing and indifferent. I wept silently, "We need to stop this train." The fireman continued to shovel coal into the firebox, I know he heard me, because it inspired him to shovel with new vigor. The apprentice stammered nervously, and then yelled over the cacophony of the machine and winds, "I could really use another set of eyes!" My hands were tied. The stain of the oil still reeked from my fingers. "Mr. Bennett," Alex interjected from behind, "we are not going to stop - we can't! Certainly, after all of this progress! Look: we have a very unique opportunity that we simply can't abandon! We are part of a major exodus, Mr. Bennett, a major exodus!" Just then the train bellowed as if it were alive and agreed with Big Alex, with speed climbing steadily, subtly. "We needed you to guide us through to our destination." "You maniac, I don't know where we are or how I got here. What did you give me? I don't even know what's real anymore!" "You were acting hysterical, so I gave you something that would help." "I have no idea where we are, I don't know where we're going, why we're going there and I don't know any of you, and even if I did I wouldn't help you, because you've done something to me, and I don't even know what it is, I don't remember who I am - my parents or my friends or anything, the only thing I remember is a beach - California! That's where I'm from!" The apprentice kept his eyes on the rails and the fireman kept shoveling. "You must remember, Mr. Bennett, you were such a hero to the rest of us. You were the finest engineer the United States has ever seen. You delivered countless passengers on this treacherous route to riches beyond their wildest dreams and now, more than ever, we need you to engineer this locomotive." I saw again how the steam descended like terror, on the earth; and now the fires reached towards the heavens, even igniting the air. I marveled in a horror that I have never known. "This fine piece of machinery will expedite our commute! No longer does man need to travel on foot, on horseback, on wagon - we have left our horses in the mud. We have harnessed the elements, we have harnessed fire - like gods - to beat the rest! You of all people should know that best! It will all be ours without a drop left to spare, we shall suck the well dry, my boy! and with your share, should you choose to cooperate, you can do as you like." "But don't you see," I pleaded, "what this doing to us all? To the world? It's burning everything, the earth, it's melting the ice! Look!" Big Alex laughed, "Prospecting? Starting a fire? Its is, of sorts. We have all done things. Our ultimate destination is either hell or damnation, and you are no more virtuous than the rest of us, but I say this not to enable your visions, because I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about - the ravings of a mad man, perhaps, useless and incoherent. If these are the things you wish to talk about, then I'm afraid to say that we have no further use for you. Alas, what a shame - to waste such a great mind." As the words left his mouth, the apprentice pulled down on the whistle for a long roar of the train. Without thinking, I reached for the air-brake. In that split-second, the fireman looked into my soul, he knew every intention I had kept silent. I knew he could see right into it, and he tried to intercept me from my connection, my destination, but with my hands tied, I made the connection and I pulled back with all of my strength. At that moment, I found myself rolling in the snow, tumbling. The train had disappeared, there wasn't even a track. The earth was no longer burning, but the snow felt like it was, the only light came from the blaring moon. I looked around for the other men, for anything, any sound, anything - there were no wheels or whistles or laughter, just the howling winds that carried the snow. My hands were free from the bonds and the oil stains. I wandered for a few hours and saw the light of this cabin, which I was resigned to presume would be the last hallucination before I froze to death. You took me in and gave me warm-welcome, coffee, dry wool clothes and let me sit by the fire. I can't thank you enough. I owe you my life.