The Train

The sound of the train turning around a corner abruptly woke me. I felt my body being slightly rocked by the turn. As I opened my eyes the train was going through a tunnel. Everything went darker. It seemed to be night. I still felt drunk. The section I was in came out of the tunnel. I was sitting by the window. I looked out the window and didn’t recognize the town we were going through. To be honest, I had no idea how I got on the train. Oh man, I can feel the hangover coming on. I sat there in partial agony, trying to comprehend the situation I was in. I am on a train.

‘I wonder if they have a bar?’ I thought to myself. I got up and staggered a little but found my balance. ‘Jesus am I in someone else life’. Another thought I said to myself.

‘You might be.’ I heard a voice say behind me. I turned my torso and head around and no one was there.

‘Was that my own thought?’ I made a puzzled face after I spoke out loud. I then saw something out the corner of my eye but when I looked it wasn’t there. I walked through the door to the other cart. The realization of being on a traveling train and not a city railway train had me thinking about last night. I was having trouble remembering last night as well. I reached in my pockets as I made my way to another cart. I seen a attendant and asked, “Excuse me is there a bar on the train?” I looked at her name tag. Becky. “Becky.” I said quickly before she could reply.

“Why yes,” Becky moved aside out of the aisle. She then pointed with her finger by here chest, indicating I was going the right way. She smiled after I said her name. “Keep going a couple more carts.”

“Thank you, Becky.” I spoke.

“You are welcome.” Becky said. We both smiled at each other and parted.

She was pretty and nice. As I was going through the carts, I noticed there wasn’t very many people on the train. I reached for my phone to check the time, but it was dead. I put my phone back in my pocket. I reached the bar. I sat down on a barstool. The bartenders back were turned to me when I approached. He was cleaning some shot glasses. He must have felt my presence because he turned his head slightly and noticed me.

“OH hey!” He turned off the water and put the shotglasses down and addressed me.

“What can I get ya, sir.” He spoke. He looked to be in his mid 30’s Caucasian.

“Double shot of tequila.” I replied.

“Brand?” He asked. He didn’t have a name tag.

“Jose’.” I spoke. I pulled out my wallet. Grabbed my debit card and placed it on the bar top.

“You got it.” The bartender said.

“What is your name?” I asked.

The bartender turned his head around as he grabbed the Jose’ Cuervo bottle out of the bottom cabinet. I imagined the swishing of the tequila inside of the bottle being tumbled like an ocean wave crashing into the waterfront walls of a city. No particular city. Ok maybe Portland Oregon. Or maybe the coast of Oregon. Or some rugged shoreline somewhere pretty.

“My name is Porter.” Porter said as he came back with the double shot of tequila.

That broke my imagination about tequila. Tequila always reminds me of the morning sunrise. I always considered Tequila Sunrise to be a morning drink. A hangover drink.

“Nice to meet you, Porter.’ I spoke. I grabbed the double and said, “Heres ta meetin you.”

“Oh wait, let me pour one. I will take one with ya.” Porter said. He then quickly grabbed the bottle and a shotglass and poured himself a double as well.

I held mine up while he made his and when he turned around, we cheered.

“OH wait, a lime.” I spoke.

“Oh yeah!” Porter said. Porter then turned around and grabbed a lime and then cut it up.

I heard the door open, and it was Becky. Her hair was a bright red. Her eyes a reddish brown.

“Hi guys.” Becky said.

“Hey. We are about to take some shots you want one?” Porter asked her.

“Hell yeah!” Becky said.

I again gave another puzzling look.

Becky sat down next to me.

“What are we drinking?” She asked in a general tone.

“Tequila.” I spoke.

“Ooo, I love tequila.” Becky replied. She looked like she could be flirtatious.

“Sooo, do they let you guys’ drink on the job?” I asked curiously.

“Oh yeah, the crew on this train is pretty laid back.” Porter said as he came back with another double for Becky. He placed it in front of her and then he turned around a grabbed a saucer with cut up limes on it. He placed it in the middle of me and Becky.

“Here we go.” I spoke. “Cheers.” Becky said. “Ah yes, cheers.” Porter said. The shot glasses clanged. We took them down with ease. We all in unison grabbed for the limes.

I sat there for a second and totally forgot to ask for the salt. As I was about to say something about the salt, Porter grabbed my debit card and slid it in the debit card machine. The burn from the tequila was met with the soothing of the lime. Now I wanted a tequila sunrise double shot and another double shot. I got to cure this on coming hangover. I thought to myself that I would take the double shot now and wait for the Tequila Sunrise.

“Where you from and what is your name?” Becky asked me and interrupted my train of thought. What was my name. Holy shit did I forget my name. Dang what did I do last night.

‘Hang on sweetheart. Before I engage in convo, I need a tequila sunrise and a double shot. I will take the double shot first.” I said to Porter as he just got done throwing away our limes.

“Gotcha buddy.” Porter said. He started to do what he does best and that is making mixed drinks. He grabbed the grenadine and orange juice out of the fridge. Porter then grabbed some ice and also the shaker. He grabbed a fresh orange off the back counter. He then grabbed my shot glass and wetted the top rim and barely placed it on a towel then put it on a small salt pad. He grabbed the rest of the lime and gave it to me. With the double shot.

“There you go. Would you like another one Becky.” Porter asked.

“Not right now, I have to do another walk through in about ten minutes.” Becky said as she was looking at her nails and then glanced at me.

I grabbed the shot. “I will take another double after this for her.” I licked the rim of the glass and then took the shot. The salt made the tequila a little more bearable especially being hung over. I kept my head tilted with my eyes closed wanting every taste bud to embrace the liquid burn and awful bitter taste that I craved. I could feel a shiver come on as my body wanted to jolt from being on a binge. This had to be day 8 of drinking every day.

“Travis. My name is Travis.” I said before I put the lime in my mouth to suck on. The lime is what made the whole shot experience lavish. I could feel the tequila in my stomach burning. Porter was shaking the shaker and then poured the mix into a glass with ice. He then poured the grenadine on the side of the glass making it look like a sunrising.

“Nice to meet you Travis.” Becky said as she turned to shake my hand.

“Nice to meet you too.” I said looking into her eyes and seeing the beauty of a human soul.

A couple more people came through the door. I glanced over at them. I noticed they were like me. They were not human. I remained calm and kept looking at Becky.

The two men stopped beside me. One of the men said, “Travis.” I looked over to him and said, “Do I know you?” The man lowered his glasses and said, “I came to collect your soul.” The man let’s call him number one and the other one number two. Number one attempted to grab me and I knocked his hand away at the same time grabbed my drink off the counter. I then twisted around away from the two men and down my drink. As I swallowed it down, I felt like I was in slow motion. Something like the Matrix, or Tenet or a Denzel Washington scene. I looked over to Porter.

“Pour me another please.” I said and as I said please I was almost tackled to the ground, but I jumped up and high kneed my legs, so number two hit the side of the bar counter. I land my feet on his back and neck. As I did the other guy swung a left hook. I ducked. He then grabbed my coat. I head butted him. He stepped back. I landed an upper cut directly to the chin as his head came back it went back up from the impact of my middle finger knuckle with my left hand. He fell to the ground. Porter started my drink.

A few more guys started to come through the door. I did my best to hold them off but eventually they got me down. I remember getting kicked and kicked and kicked. Stomped and punched in the face to where finally I lost consciousness. Then I kind of remember it stopping the pain wasn’t that bad, but I could feel some of my bones crack and break.

I woke up in a bed and could hear the thumps of the trains iron wheels run along the tracks. Am I alive? What the hell is going on? I noticed someone was sitting across the room.

“Hello?” I said out loud.

“What did you do Travis?” The person said to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked the person.

“You killed yourself.” The person said.

“What? NO! wait? What?! You’re saying I am dead?” I replied. I tried to get up but could not move.

“Not yet. But you are well on your way.” The person said. I could not make out who it was or what they looked like because he was in the shadow of the light.

“What you mean?” I said as I laid there with no mobility. I felt paralyzed.

The person got up and came out of the shadow. He was wearing a hooded robe and resembled the grim reaper.

“You have a lot of souls praying for you.” The reaper said. He came closer to me and held a bladed shaft. The blade shined off the dim light to enlighten the sharpness of the blade. The person, the reaper face was dark and blank. He put the blade to my neck. I couldn’t move.

“You do not have many more chances in this life. You keep going down this road, I will have to behead you. If you want to live you need to change your life.” The reaper said.

“Is this a different realm I am in.” I said and didn’t feel the fear for I could see the prayers from loved ones come to me and surround me. Energy that seemed to shield me from the blade.

The reaper then pulled out a bottle. It had purple looking liquid substance inside it.

“You see this?” The reaper said. “I pour this on my blade, and it can breakthrough them prayers.” There was a glow under his hood. It looked like to be his eyes. The glow was purple red.

“I will be watching you.” The reaper then disappeared. Little lights started to circle me. I could see past on loved ones come near me. I stated to cry. I could feel their love for me. I could feel their worry and hope. The hope was strong.

The message I acknowledged from my loved ones that have passed on was that I needed to change. Change the lifestyle. As I was thinking this, I didn’t realize I was opening my eyes back where I began on the train.

I seen Becky enter the cart.

“Hello sir. I am doing a ticket check. Can I see your ticket?” Becky asked. She was smiling and was in a good mood. I checked my pockets of my coat. I then checked my pant pockets. I couldn’t find the ticket.

“I don’t know…” I said as I searched. I didn’t know how I got here I thought. I still felt drunk as well. “I can’t find it.” I said as Becky was standing there waiting for me to show her a ticket.

“Ok sir. I am going to have to ask you to exit the train.” Becky said. She directed to an exit.

“Wait, you don’t remember me?” I asked her. “It’s Travis. We had some tequila shots together.” I said to her while she looked at me puzzled.

“No sir I do not know you. Please grab your bags and exit the train.” Becky said.

I grabbed my bags and exited the train. I turned around and started to slowly backwards facing the train. I was in total confusion of what was what. The train started to take off as I started walking in the opposite direction. “Let the journey begin.”

“The craving is strong. The train is the locomotive of ourselves. The internal battle is a spiritual one. At the bar scene, I am probably fantasizing about the best parts of drinking social. The men that came in were the representation of the alcohol kicking my ass after drinking too much. The loved ones and the reaper were the representation of the outside looking inside myself.

The counselor Tim, started to clap.

“Bravo.” Tim said. The other patients started to clap as well. I took a deep breath.

“Bravo.” Time said again. He stopped clapping and everybody else did too. He then leaned forward in his chair.

“I love it. That is a good story.” Tim said.

“It was a dream I recently had while being here.” I replied.

“Thank you sharing. I want to put it in a frame and hang it on the wall. That is if you would be willing to share it. I think it is a good story for others to reflect on it.” Tim said.

Another patient said, “Yeah that was deep. That makes me think about my loved ones praying for me.”

I looked at the other patient and said, “I think we are all on a train of life, navigating, and sometimes the train isn’t the right train to be on. So we must find the right train with the right people.

“The right train allows for the right support group, right?” Tim asked.

I said, “Yes it does. As long as I have that, I have a higher chance of surviving addiction.”

As I spoke we could hear the locomotive operator tug the whistle of the train.