The last commute

My head was throbbing. It felt as if a particularly enthusiastic bird was trying to hammer its way into my skull. I knew I shouldn’t have been drinking that much on my new medications. My back and neck were aching from the position I was in; I must have fallen asleep on the couch again. I opened my eyes and prepared myself to slowly stand and shuffle off to bed when an unease came over me. Something wasn’t right. I looked around, not sure what I was taking in. I was sitting on a plush leather seat in a small room with deep rich carpet on the floor, velvet covering the walls and metal railings overhead. This definitely wasn’t my living room. Did these medications cause hallucinations? I turned my head to see a door to my left and on my right a window. I pushed up to stand and stumbled. Was I still drunk? It felt like the room was swaying. I cautiously got to my feet again, holding onto the chair for support. As I stood, I felt the floor gently sway and as I focussed, I realised I could hear a distant rumbling. The window to my right revealed nothing but darkness. Above it a sign said ‘pull for emergency’ with a red rope beneath it. I considered this for a moment and it donned on me where I had seen something similar before; on a train. I closed my eyes and tried to think back to last night. Had I gotten drunk and decided to take an impromptu trip? It seemed unlikely; I had an appointment tomorrow that even drunk me would not want to miss. Was I dreaming? I tried pinching myself, Ouch! Never felt pain like that in a dream.

As I considered what was going on I looked back at the window. In its darkness all I could see was my reflection. What was I wearing? It appeared to be a black three-piece pinstripe suit, with a red kerchief in my lapel and a top hat. These were certainly not my clothes; I have definitely never worn something this high-class. I did my ritual patting of pockets for phone, wallet, keys to find them all empty. I did a further scan of the room to try and discern some more information but came up blank. One thing was for sure, I definitely could not afford this sort of room and clothing. My eyes landed on the door to my left. May as well see if there are any answers out there.

As I exited what I now became more certain was a train compartment, I saw a lamp lit corridor. I tried to remember how I got here but my mind was hazy. I had no recollection of yesterday either. I was jolted from my thoughts as the carriage lurched. I stumbled and caught myself on a handrail. At the far end of the corridor the door slid to the side and a figure hurried through. It was a man with round lensed glasses in a red jacket with brass buttons and a gold rimmed black hat. He had a satchel which he swivelled to his side as he marched down the corridor.

‘I apologise for the turbulence of your journey but there is nothing to worry about, I can assure you sir there will be no delay or I’ll eat my hat!’ said the bespeckled man as he took off his hat and began to mime chewing and swallowing it.

He ceased his performance when he saw my bemused expression. ‘Apologies, I did not mean to make jest, only to lighten the mood.’

I finally found my voice and asked ‘I’m sorry, where are we? What is going on?’

‘You are exactly where you need to be Mr Macleod! Not to worry, not to worry, every need you have will be met on your journey. Now if you make your way through to the dining car, dinner will be served shortly.’

‘Wait, no I mean where are we? And how do you know my name? What is going on?!’, frustrated that this strange man was not answering my questions.

‘I would love to stay here and gab away all night long but unfortunately duty calls! Now don’t let your dinner get cold, I recommend the soup.’ He said while he continuing down the corridor and through the door at the end. I made to follow him and grabbed the handle of the door only to find it locked.

abandoned my attempts. I walked up the corridor, trying other doors as I went but finding them also locked. I reached the end of the corridor and once I found this door was open, I went through into a small connection which led to what I assumed was the next carriage. There I found a brightly coloured room bedecked with tables draped in white cloths and covered with shining silver cutlery.

At one table sat a rotund lady dressed in a sizeable frilly frock the sort I had only ever seen in period dramas. She had an extravagant wig on and rouged cheeks. In front of her was an array of plates with a plethora of food piled upon them. She held a large glass of red wine and drank deeply from it. To one side of her there was a stack of dirty, empty dishes piled nearly to the roof teetering precariously as the train swayed.

She looked around and raised her eyebrows when she noticed me. ‘Finally, some company for dinner, not that I do not enjoy my own conversation’ she let out a high-pitched giggle. ‘Please take a seat and join me, anything to distract me from my boredom.’

I looked around hesitantly, unsure what to do. After realising I had very few options, I took a seat opposite. ‘Hi I’m Conor, what's your name?’

‘Countess Casandra McFortuné, charmed, I’m sure.’ She extended her hand to me; it took a polite cough from the countess for me to realise I was supposed to do something. I leaned forward and gave a quick peck on the back of her hand, it smelt stale and unpleasant. ‘Please help yourself to this lavish spread, I recommend the soup to start, its exquisite.’ She brought her fingers to her mouth and kissed them in a gesture to show how divine the food was.

As I looked down and smelt the mountain of food laid in front of me, I realised how hungry I was. I reached out and started to devour a chicken leg. The countess looked at me and rolled her eyes. ‘What ever happened to table manners,’ she sighed and took another long draught of her wine.

I ate continuously for some time, barely leaving time to appreciate the superb flavours and textures. They were right, the soup was exquisite. Once I started to feel full, I paused to quench my thirst and slurped some wine. As I looked up, I realised the countess was looking at me with an intense expression. She caught herself and blinked.

‘Apologies for staring, here is me mocking about table manners then I ogle like a simple yob. I just enjoy seeing someone deriving so much pleasure from food. It has been some time since I had that feeling and it is keenly missed, I can assure you.’ She proceeded to scoop a large spoonful of trifle into her mouth, washing it down with a glug from her glass.

As I puzzled over what the countess said I thought I should see if she could enlighten me about this strange place. ‘If I may ask your countessness, where are we and where are we going? I have no memory of getting on this train or putting on these clothes. I don’t have my wallet or phone and I have an appointment I really need to get to tomorrow and I ...just...don't...know…’ My heart felt like it was trying to beat out of my chest and I began breathing faster and faster. A dizziness came over me and the room started to spin.

‘Oh, now there is nothing to get in a tizz about. Look, focus on me’ the countess looked at me intently, ‘now control your breathing, in and out, slower, in and out. There that’s better. I understand you have many questions but for now you just need to know you are in the right place.’

As I focussed on my breathing, I felt my heart beat calm. ‘Can you not tell me anything about this? Where we are, where we are going?’

‘I have been on this train for some time now and have yet to see my destination. When you are ready, you will arrive at yours. Maybe you will be braver than me and it will come quickly, or perhaps you have a long journey ahead of you.’ She took a large swig and finished off her wine.

‘That does not explain anything’ I said, exasperated. ‘Please then, tell me how did you end up here?’

The countess looked like her wine was having quite the effect on her. ‘You may not believe me if I tell you,' she tittered. ‘I have been here for a long time, waiting for my hubby, my count to join me. But then when he arrived, he told me he did not love me anymore, he had remarried and had a whole life without me. He left me heartbroken and continued to his destination without me. So, I have been here, trying to mend my broken heart with other pleasures, and not doing a very good job might I add.’ Her eyes began to wet with tears.

‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that’ I said consolingly while trying to pick apart what she had said. ‘And where did he travel to?’ I asked, fishing for more answers.

The countess yawned ‘Like I give a damn about him, he can rot in hell for all I care.’ She started to laugh at that but I failed to see the funny side. As she rested back in her seat her eyelids started to droop. Her head began to lull and before I could interject, she was snoring, soundly asleep.

‘Countess, countess?’ I implored but knew it far-fetched that I would get a response. I had experienced my fair share of drunken sleeps to know that she was unlikely to wake any time soon and it would be impossible to get anything sensical out of her if she did.

The partition at the end of the room opened and the man in the red jacket and black hat walked through. How did he get past me without going through this carriage?

As I pondered this he said ‘Ah Mr Macleod how did you enjoy dinner? Was the soup to your taste?’

‘Yes, it was delicious as you said, well balanced and smooth texture.’ I caught myself, realising I should not be having small talk with my potential captor. ‘Look stop with all these stupid pleasantries. Last night I was in my flat and then I woke up here. I did not come here of my own volition which means someone kidnapped me. You better start explaining what's going on right now!’ My voice was strained by the end and I felt my hands forming fists in anger.

‘Mr Macleod there is no need to use that tone with me, I am just trying to do my job.’ While he said this, he pointed at a sign on the wall which said ‘’Our staff have the right to not be harassed by travellers’’. ‘I’m the conductor of this train and it is my duty to look after the passengers and ensure their needs are met while they travel to their destination.’

‘Look I am sorry for shouting’ feeling chagrined as I looked at the sign ‘but that does not explain how I ended up here in these ridiculous clothes. I am not travelling anywhere; I am supposed to be at home! I have something to do tomorrow that I cannot miss. When is the next stop? Then I can get off and go back home.’

The conductor looked at me with a quizzical expression ‘I am sorry to tell you Mr Macleod but I have you scheduled for this journey. Look here’ the conductor rummaged through his satchel and brought out a clip board. ‘Here it is: Mr Conor Macleod, date of birth 15/04/77, son of Margaret and George, boarding at Livingroom, flat 23B at 3:45am 29/07/2022, one compartment booked.’ He leaned over showing me his clip board which had a print out of names and pointed to a column which showed my details including my address, height, eye colour, hair colour and blood type. I could not comprehend what I was seeing. Above and below were other names accompanied by the same level of detail.

‘How the hell do you have all that information about me? Is this some sort of scam? Kidnap me and steal my identity or something? Sell to the highest bidder?’ I could feel my temper rising as a wave of emotions crashed over me; confusion, anger, fear.

‘Mr Macleod, we have this information on everyone and I can assure you we are not trying to pull the wool over your eyes. This train is taking you where you need to go, I can promise you that. I can see you are upset, perhaps you can take some time to yourself in the cigar lounge, nothing like a dram of whisky to calm the soul. If you follow me.’

Numbly, I followed the conductor. I had lost the urge to shout and scream and with the anger fading I felt drained. He led me through the set of doors to the next connected carriage. This room was dimly lit by candles and had lavish leather armchairs with elegant side tables. In one corner was a drinks trolley and a cabinet filled with cigars.

‘Please make yourself comfortable and help yourself to a drink and a fine cigar’ said the conductor, gesturing to the amenities.

I wondered over and perused the drinks trolley. I was vaguely surprised to see all my favourite spirits were here, even that one whisky I only found when I went on holiday to a remote island and stumbled across the bottle in a local shop. I had searched for it many times after that but never had any luck. ‘Guess I shouldn’t be shocked you know what I like to drink, you know everything else it seems’.

‘We aim to please,’ the conductor said with a slight smile. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other passengers to attend to.’ He then left the carriage hurriedly. I decided to ignore the conductor's strange behaviour and poured myself a generous serving of whisky.

I had just started puffing on an extremely fine cigar, it must be said, when the door opened at the opposite end of the carriage I had entered from. Through it walked a hunched figure. I was hit with a smell of charcoal and when I looked them up and down, I saw it was a man in overalls covered in black soot. He took off his flat cap and wiped his face with it. He was bald with a scraggily beard that had patches of grey. He gave me a nod and walked over to the drink trolley and poured a whisky. He sat himself opposite me and took a sip of whisky as he slumped back, exhaling tiredly. After a few seconds his eyes flicked open and he looked over at me.

‘Sorry for intruding on your quiet time, it’s just I don’t get often to have a drink in here. Have to wait for MrStickUpHisArse to be busy somewhere and sneak in. About the only down time I get.’

Looking at him it was easy to believe he didn’t get many breaks. His fingernails were grimy with soot and covered in calluses, he was all bone and sinewy muscle and his expression portrayed an image of exhaustion.

‘So, you work on the train?’ I asked, hopeful to strike up a conversation to get any details I could.

‘Ha yeah, I work on the train. All I’ve ever done; all I'll ever do. Not much of a life, is it? I shovel the coal, keep this train moving. Without me it all stops, not that I ever get any thanks for it.’ He had a sour expression on his face.

‘Sounds tough, harder work than I’ve ever done. What can I call you?’

Well, it's been some time since someone's asked my name.’ The workman stared off, ‘I... I’m sure I had a name once but now I search for it; I can't find it. Maybe I never had one. Just call me coalman, the shoveller, I don’t care.’

‘How above Cole?’ I asked with a smile on my face.

He snorted, showing his teeth which were also discoloured from soot it appeared. ‘Hah sure why not, that’ll do grand.’ He took a drink from his tumbler.

I saw Cole get more comfortable in his seat and decided to see if I could charm him out of anything useful. ‘Do you want a top up? I’m having one.’

‘Sure, why not,’ he grunted.

I poured him a large whisky and gave myself a small top up. ‘So, you say you’ve worked on the train a long time?’ trying to sound conversational.

‘Oh yeah, since it started. I think that’s right but it's been so long it's hard to be sure.’

‘So, what, 30, 40 years?’

Cole laughed mid-sip and ended up spilling whisky over himself. ‘A smidge more than that,’ he barked with a wry expression.

Trying not to show my lack of knowledge I changed the subject. ‘You know what time we are due to arrive? It's just I’ve got something I have to get to and I really can’t miss it.’

Cole gave me a long, considered look as he drank. ‘Damn, no one's told you yet huh? That self-important... He always does this. Doesn’t explain what’s going on and makes you figure it out for yourself, like it's some mystery, some sort of riddle you have to solve. I always thought it's just cruel, putting salt in the wound if you ask me.’ He took another drink and stared intently at me and nodded as if he had made a decision. ‘I’m not going to let it happen again. ‘

I shuffled forward on my chair, feeling tense with anticipation. Finally, some answers.

Cole leaned forward from his seat. ‘Let me guess, that appointment tomorrow, was it for some medical treatment?’

I was caught off-guard by this question. ‘Well, yes, I have chemotherapy scheduled for tomorrow, how did you know? Do you know everything about me too?’

He sighed, ‘No, just a clever guess. Can I ask, how was the treatment going?’

I took a moment to answer, confused by his query. ‘It was going well initially, got the all clear a year ago. Then had a check-up recently which showed a recurrence. So, I’m having to go through it all again. Guess it’s my own fault, I haven't exactly been healthy the last year, took the all clear as a ‘yeah I'm going to live forever, lets party.’ Turns out that was wrong.’ I tried to smile like it was a joke but it felt false on my face.

‘There’s no easy way to say this so I’m just going to tell you straight.’ Cole paused as he took a breath. ‘This ain’t no normal train, I’m sure you guessed that. This train takes you where you need to go to ...after life. That’s why I guessed you were ill. I’m sorry to have to tell you, but I think it's better just to know, rather than make you figure it out like some sick game. You are dead Conor.’

I sat in shock. I heard his words going round in my head but I couldn’t comprehend it. I sat in complete silence. I had a memory of when I was told I had cancer and then when I was told it was back. It was the same feeling as now, of all-encompassing dread. The finality of it, the gravity of it. Impossible to understand but not possible to think of anything else.

‘I know it’s a lot to take in. I’ve seen that look on many people before.’ Cole murmured ‘There’s not much more I can tell you. Just that we are taking you where you have to go.’

I sat, struggling with everything I was being told. ‘So I’m getting taken to heaven or something? I don’t believe in God. Oh god I should have gone to church with my mum like she said.' I tremored, starting to spiral.

‘Sadly, I can’t answer that. What’s waiting is for you to find out when we arrive.’

‘And we are heading there now? But you don’t know when we will arrive?’ I asked in a strained voice.

‘That’s right,’ replied Cole, ‘takes longer for some than others to get where they are going.’

I started to feel that sensation in my chest again, of dread and panic mixing together and causing my heart to race. I focussed on my breathing to stop myself from going into a full panic attack. I tried to think through my life; was I good? I should have donated to charity more; I shouldn’t always have pretended to have no change when walking past homeless people.

I was pacing now, trying to contain my fear. I swivelled and looked at Cole. ‘Hey you said you’ve worked on this train since it started. You must know more about this.’ I paused looking at him more, ‘wait does that make you like an angel or... or God?’ I collapsed to the floor, maybe some last-minute grovelling would help my chances.

Cole laughed loudly at my reaction. ‘Geez I wish. No, I’m just as I said, a coal shoveler, nothing more nothing less. I was here when the train started moving and I’ve never seen anything different. Just me, the conductor and the passengers.’

‘The conductor!’ I exclaimed, ‘He must have some answers, where is he?’ I looked around wildly, expecting him to step out in white glowing robes.

‘He likes to make out he knows everything and he sure thinks he’s the almighty but he doesn’t know any more than me and he’s lying if he told you different.’ With that he turned his head and spat on the floor to show his disdain for his apparently immortal colleague. ‘Hey, look I know this is a lot. How about while your mind is exploding, I show you round my end? Something to distract you from the fact you are dead, eh?’ He said with a smirk. ‘Come on, follow me. Just know you are very lucky; I haven't done this before but hey I'm feeling mischievous today.’ With that he gave me a gentle push to get me going and we walked to the end of the carriage.

Cole opened the connecting doors to the adjoining carriage and I looked in seeing a long line of seats running down it. And they were all filled. As we walked, I started at the passengers. It was a varied bunch. A woman in ragged clothes was sitting next to a man in royal regalia and a crown. As I scanned, I saw old, young, rich, poor. Was that an astronaut over there? As we reached the end of the carriage, I grabbed Cole’s arm. ‘Who are these people?’

‘Passengers just like you. For some people it takes a long time to come to terms with mortality and afterlife. So, they sit here, waiting.’

‘Just waiting? For what?’

‘To move on.’

I turned to my left and saw a woman wearing what appeared to be a fur pelt made from a wolf if my identification of claws was right. ‘Excuse me,’ I leaned forward trying to grab her attention, ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Me sit here long time,’ she grunted. She then turned away from me to stare out into the blackness. An enlightening conversation.

Cole moved to open the next carriage. He opened the door to reveal another carriage filled with people sitting, waiting. ‘How many of these carriages are there?’ I asked.

‘Many. It will take a few lifetimes to get to the engine room.’

‘A few lifetimes?’ I gawped.

Cole bumped his hand on his head. ‘Right yes, not an issue for me but you might go mad, understandable, I forget how fragile human brains are. We can speed up the process.’ He pulled out a key from his pocket, closed the door leading to the next carriage and put the key in the lock. He turned it and opened the door again. When he opened it on the other side was a corridor with metal walls. ‘Handy thing, especially if you need the toilet quickly,’ he winked. We walked through, my mouth agape.

Cole continued to talk as we walked. ‘In there is the furnace, that’s where I spend most my time, breaking my back to shovel. And through here,’ he opened the door which had a small window in it, ‘Is the drivers cabin.’

We walked into a room filled with dials, pulleys and levers. ‘Where's the driver?’ I inquired.

‘The train mostly runs by itself. Sometimes we have to come up and fiddle but it knows what to do.’

As I looked around, I saw a window at the front of the train. Again, it just showed darkness. Emptiness. nothing. That familiar fear and dread built up from the pit of my stomach and rose. I was hit with the finality of my life, my own mortality. It was all too much. I couldn’t face it. Cole noticed something was wrong.

‘Are you okay?’

‘No,’ I said as an idea popped into my head. ‘Could you get me some water?’ As I leaned over appearing faint.

‘Of course.’

As Cole headed out of the door, I slipped my hand into his pocket and found what I was looking for. As he exited the cabin, I quickly slammed the door and inserted the key into the door and turned it. Cole heard this and turned around. He reached for the handle and tried to open the door. ‘Hey what are you doing?’ he shouted.

I ignored him and turned to the controls. Maybe if this train is taking me to death, I can turn it around and go back, back to my life. I tried to make sense of the controls but couldn‘t make heads or tails of them. I decided I probably didn’t have much time and started to yank on levers and turn dials. The train started to rumble loudly. The floor heaved underneath me. I fell to the floor. The train was speeding up, not what I planned. I looked in my hand and saw a lever had snapped off in my fall. Hmm maybe not so good.

Behind me I heard a commotion. I turned to see through the window in the door. The conductor was standing there, with the countess next to him. ‘What in goodness gracious is going on?’ the countess wailed.

The conductor shouted through ‘What are you doing Mr Macleod? Let us in right now.’ He tried his key but it did not work as the other key was still in the door. ‘Let us in to fix this. You are putting the train in jeopardy!’

The countess approached looking distraught. She stared at me and spoke ‘Conor I know what you are trying to do, I can see the fear in your eyes. Don’t be afraid like me, I've been on this train for centuries, always thinking back to my life, going over my regrets and what I could have done differently. Yet that isn't a life. The only way to move on is to let the past go and continue forward. Yes, that is scary but it also exhilarating. Otherwise, you are inert, waiting for something to happen.’

She was right, I have always run away from my problems. I had been battling with my mortality ever since I was diagnosed with cancer and I never faced it head on, never confronted my fear. And here I was again, trying to find a way out like always. I looked at the countess and could see all my own terror and flaws reflected in her; the fear to move on, the desire to cling on to the past. I considered all of the other passengers on the train, all the other afterlife's I would ruin. Well, no more, time to actually face my destiny with a semblance of dignity. I went to the door and turned the key, unlocking it. The conductor and Cole ran in to the control panel. They stood there for some time bickering about how best to mend the broken lever. Cole leaned over, took a pin from the countess's large wig and proceeded to jam it into a dial and turn it. I felt the train starting to slow and come back under control.

I walked over to the countess and took her hand. I looked at her and tried to show all my emotions, thanks, appreciation, fear for what is to come. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘I feel the same, but we can do this together.’ With that we turned and walked to find some free seats to wait for our stop.

The conductor pointed at the window, nudging the coal shoveler, ‘Ah finally some light at the end of the tunnel.’