The Train

Bev was startled awake. She found herself staring at a ceiling. It didn’t remind her of anything she had seen before. The roof, constructed of some paneling, had lines running perpendicular. It looked unnatural to her as if someone had painted over a piece of plywood. The wood's natural lines and spirals were present, but they were unnaturally accentuated.

The lighting in the space around her was strange. A white plastic square glowed with purpose above her. However, a flurry of light flashed across her face at unpredictable intervals. Over several long seconds, the light changed from bright to dark and back to dazzling again.

It was at this point Bev became acutely conscious of the background noise. It reminded her of something, clickety-clack, Clickety-clack, Clickety-clack. What was it? There was also a rocking motion, like being on a boat, a sort of back and forth movement, but not as much activity as being on a craft in the water.

Bev’s mind went to her childhood and a train outing she had taken once. She and her mom had boarded for an adventurous time at the Roaring Camp Railroads. Bev had enjoyed every second, and her mom had placed Bev on her lap. It had been an enjoyable day. They had pick-nicked outside under the trees.

Bev shut the memory out; she wasn’t a little girl anymore; her mom wasn’t here, nor would she ever be again. She struggled to sit in an upright position and realized her head hurt terribly. Her vision blurred, and she felt dizzy. Bev’s right hand went to her head and the pain. There her hand found a bump on her scalp under the long brown locks, and she winced. It most likely explained why she didn’t know what was happening or where the train was going. Bev moaned, shivered and leaned back in the cushioned seat, and groaned; she must have a concussion.

What was the last thing she remembered? Bev wasn’t entirely sure. She knew at some point in the past that she had gone shopping for groceries. Tacos, she had been going to make tacos for dinner. It was Tuesday. She had gone shopping on that same Tuesday morning.

Bev cracked her eyes open to look around her. It was a tiny sleeper compartment, and the air was frigid. The other seat was empty. She faced the glass and noticed the flashing lights were coming from the window. The sun was low to the horizon, and the route passed through a forest; a million trees flew by, one by one. But these trees were leafless, naked for winter. Bev blinked and swallowed. The taco Tuesday that she remembered had been September.

Bev tried to remember if there was a forest nearby. Bev lived in an east bay city, and there were skyscrapers downtown. There were no signs of those buildings or any indication of the suburban sprawl. No, she was far away from civilization. There were no vehicles or houses of any kind.

Bev’s hand went to her body. She looked down, despite the ache in her head. She was wearing a jacket, a red plaid jacket her mother had given Bev as the last Christmas present she would ever buy. Bev was also wearing jeans. Her hands went to the pockets, and she checked them. On her right was the wallet she always carried and on the left was her phone. There were no keys, no signs of a ticket. She opened up the wallet and went through it carefully, noting her ID, bank card, credit card, and a couple of ones all in their compartments. There was nothing else to explain how she had gotten here. Bev put the wallet away and tried the phone but was disappointed when the phone would not turn on.

“Dead!” Bev said out loud and jumped. Her voice was hoarse, not at all like the usual tone. It was similar to the last time she’d gone to a baseball game with her brother. She and Beck had screamed so much they had lost their voices.

But the last game she could remember had been in the early summertime. Bev hadn’t seen Beck for months. He was busy with his job and wife, as he should be. He didn’t need to look out for her anymore to protect her from bullies. They were not kids anymore.

At that instant, a distant train whistle blew and repeated. It meant a crossing, which meant the engine had passed something besides trees. She wrinkled her brow and watched the window again. She saw a lowered flashing crossing but no sign of vehicles. The road sat empty with no road signs or buildings in sight.

To Bev, this was the final blow. She was on a train to nowhere with no one. Her phone was dead, and she had no ticket. She looked around the small compartment, this time noticing the tiny bathroom to the left of the door to the hallway. What she could see was chrome and cramped.

Bev stood with some effort. She held onto the armrest for dear life, wobbling with the train as it moved around her. She checked the tiny room and the bathroom thoroughly. There was no sign of luggage, no personal items of any kind. It seemed she had entered the room and plopped down without belonging to it, only moments before waking.

Bev came to the door and stared. It was a plain wooden door with a peephole nearly at her eye level. The entry made her nervous. There could be any number of people behind it. There could be a nasty conductor or a bunch of tourists, or several fancy women with nice hair and a lot of jewelry and make-up. They would sneer at Bev and turn to their rich boyfriends and murmur about the trash on the train.

It was too cold on the train; she shivered and hugged herself tightly. The jacket wasn’t thick enough, and she needed a hair tie. After glimpsing her curly hair in the mirror, Bev knew it looked like she'd been caught in a thunderstorm. She felt a lump in her throat. Couldn’t she stay here and hide until the train came to a stop? Did she have to know when they would stop?

And then, in her head, she heard Jedidiah's voice; “Go, you fucking bitch! You’re so goddamn lazy! Get out the fucking door and figure out what is going on!” A bang followed as he either threw something at her or overturned some furniture. The triggered memory was so strong that she jumped.

Bev looked around wildly; sure, he was around someplace. But she relaxed; Jedidiah wasn’t here and couldn’t be as she had left him after three years of hell and two miscarriages. She had a restraining order and was safe. But the fear and nightmares were real. She realized tears were falling down her face and touched them, wishing to get angry at herself. Usually, alone in her studio apartment, Bev would have reprimanded herself out loud. But this wasn’t a normal situation.

A wave of sickness washed over Bev, and she wiped the water off her hand. Then she took a deep breath and held it briefly, leaning forward to look through the peephole. At first, she saw nothing as the opposite wall was windowless. There was nothing but cream paint extending as far as her eye could see. She was about to turn away when a figure entered her field of vision. It was so sudden she panicked and jerked away.

She almost fell over the armrest but threw herself against the bathroom door frame for balance. But another noise broke the steady sounds of the train tracks. There was a tap on the wood. She jerked her head toward the door. Who could it be? The conductor about a ticket? Her chin quivered as she didn’t know if she had enough money in the bank to cover a ticket. Her credit card only went up to $300 and had a balance, at least it had the last time she remembered using it.

She stood frozen for eternity, hoping they would go away. If she ignored them long enough, they might think the room was empty. But she wasn’t that lucky. The knock came again, louder this time. Bev felt sick but knew it was time to give in. She moved to the door, her right hand outstretched

In her mind, an angry conductor was on the other side—a middle-aged man with a scowl or maybe a security guard checking for stowaways. But as the door opened to reveal the person who stood there, he was nothing of the kind. He was taller by half a dozen inches and younger than her brother by looks. Beck was a perpetual twenty-nine-year-old, closer to thirty-two.

“Hey,” the man said; there was a moment of awkward silence. He smiled, and she stared wide-eyed back, unable to speak. He lifted his hands to reveal two water bottles. “I got you what you asked for,” he added and held one out to her.

Bev automatically lifted her hand for the bottle but didn't take it. She stared at it, and then her eyes returned to his face. He watched her. .

“Thank you?” She replied but did not reach for it. The man came in through the door, shut it carefully behind him, and approached her.

“ Why don’t you sit down?” He suggested softly, holding the bottle a few inches from her navel, “and drink some of this.” He was peering into her eyes intently. “I think it will help your head.”

Her hand went up to it and took the bottle. Her fingers brushed against the man’s skin. She looked back and forth between his dark brown eyes, searching for familiarity, but nothing registered. He seemed genuine and friendly, but there wasn’t any part that jogged her memory.

He let the water go and moved to the seat opposite hers. He sat down but never took his eyes off her as he opened the water bottle and took a long drink.

Bev followed his example, moving around the armrest and taking the seat she had vacated a few moments before. She looked down at the water bottle and opened it, though it took her a moment of struggling. Her muscles felt exhausted by some unknown activity. She took a long sip, the cool water slipping down her esophagus in a refreshing stream.

When Bev had finished replacing the cap, the man spoke softly, “ I have a feeling you’re having trouble remembering again.”

Bev’s eyes darted up to his face. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. She nodded and turned to the window holding to hide the fear. It seemed they were passing the same trees they had been going past since she had woken.

“ Well, let’s start with me. Do you remember my name?” He inquired, leaning a little to see into her face.

Bev forced herself to look at him again. But there was another lump in her throat as she shook her head.

The man didn’t seem surprised, “I am Finn.” He explained, “we’ve only known each other a few hours, so I won’t be insulted if you’ve already forgotten me.” He touched his forehead and then pointed to her. “You have a nasty bump.”

Bev’s hand went back up to her head, touched it, and winced. She did have a nasty bump. It was true. How had she gotten it, and why was she on a train? And why did it seem to be winter when the last thing she could remember was September?

“Don’t touch it,” he instructed, lifting a hand as if to stop her. “ I asked for more ice, but they said they’d bring it.” Finn shrugged and sighed. “This is not the most prepared and organized ride. Their dining car is a sloppy mess, and no one is eating; I think this train is half empty.” He looked at the door and frowned.

“Thanks, that’s okay.” Bev found herself saying.

He smiled at the sound of her voice. “No problem.” He replied.

She squinted at him, trying to remember but abruptly, she remembered Halloween. Bev remembered decorating a little, buying a pumpkin, and carving it. She remembered purchasing a bag of candy and giving it out to trick-or-treaters. But few had come, and she had eaten most of the remaining candy. Then Bev forced herself to vomit to get rid of the extra calories. She always tried to eat less than fifteen hundred calories daily and no deserts. She couldn’t risk weight gain, having been overweight while living with Jedediah. She had gotten up to 184 pounds, and he always notified her of this fact.

“You are a cow, a whale, fat and covered in stretch marks. Wow. Get up off your fat ass and get moving!” He would shout and force her to her feet. Bev blinked. The trigger was causing the words to echo in her mind.

“Are you okay?” Finn asked. He had tilted his head a little and focused on her.

Bev glanced up at him, feeling frightened, not of him but of the memories she still had and those she couldn’t remember. She shuddered.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled, then inquired, “what is the date?”

“It’s December 21, the first day of winter.” Finn replied. And he studied her. “Tell me, what is the last thing you remember?”

Bev blinked; her hands were twisting in her lap, and she looked down at them. They hurt her somehow. She felt the lump in her throat return.

“Halloween,” she whispered, not looking at him.

“Oh!” Finn said in surprise, And he sat up straight. “that is a lot to forget. But I’ve read these things are usually temporary.” She glanced at him, and he flashed her a smile, noting the trepidation in the gaze. “I am a second-year medical student, but” he held up a finger. “I am on winter break now, traveling to Seattle for the holidays.”

Bev looked back down at her hands having no response for Finn. But her attention was caught by something. “Seattle?” She asked, glancing up into his face.

“Yes, don’t you—” Finn paused. “Oh, Halloween is your last memory; you don’t remember getting on the train, do you?” He inquired softly.

Bev shook her head, ducking it to hide the tears that began to seep out at the corners of her eyes.

“Well, I can’t tell you the reason for being at the train station, but –” he became aware of her tears, “Bev,” Finn spoke her name, and she looked up at him; now, he could see the extent. “Hey, don’t cry.” He was at the edge of his seat, ready to jump up and join her. “I’ll tell you everything you did or said since I first saw you, and maybe that will help, okay?”

“Okay,” Bev added and nodded. But it only made the tears flow heavier.

Finn jumped up and joined her on her seat by the window. They barely fit together, but Bev didn’t feel intimidated. “Can I put my arm around you?” he asked softly. Bev nodded, nervous about him seeing how hard she was crying. Finn wrapped his left arm around her and gave her a side hug.

The hug helped somehow. Bev wasn’t entirely confident of their contact, but she felt slightly tingling. Maybe it was hysterics that caused the sensation. The only other guys she had been close to like this were her brother and Jedediah. Her brother had comforted her awkwardly in the past, usually as a placeholder for her mother. But Jedediah had never been a comfort, and he only screamed that Bev invented the tears to make him look bad.

“I know you’re scared right now; I would be too, but it’s not going to be that bad, I promise. We started talking on the platform. You told me you needed to get away from the bay, but when you tried to buy a ticket, you couldn't. So the conductor let me bring you in my sleeper.” Finn explained.

Bev was shaking, but she was trying her best to listen. It still didn’t explain why she had no bags, not why she had only her phone and wallet. What had been so urgent that she left the city without bags?

“You were so tired and couldn’t keep your eyes open. I got you some ice, and it’s already melted; more is coming. And you asked for water. That’s when I left. I guess that’s when you forgot me.“ He glanced at Bev’s hands as they twisted in her lap.

Bev wasn’t crying anymore; she nodded and closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. His information didn’t explain the bump on her head, either. She forced herself to think about Halloween. What about the day after? She’d been sick with chronic fatigue. And every day after preceded the steady monotony of existing, barely surviving.

She traveled through the memories and bumped into something at Thanksgiving, Bev realized. Her brother and his wife, Jenna, had announced they were pregnant. Bev shuddered, remembering how she had tried to be happy for them, but it changed the whole dynamic of the family and her place in it. She had slipped into a double depression. Here she lost the path, and the memory ended.

A loud knock at the door started Bev so severely that she ducked away from it, hoping to hide from sight, but that put her right into Finn’s arms. His right arm went around her in surprise to catch her as she appeared to be falling towards the floor.

“Woah, watch out!” he cried.

“ Bev?” He said softly, and her eyes popped open. She jerked upwards and away from him at the sight of his face. So close. “ I’m sorry,” he added. “Someone’s at the door. It’s probably your ice.”

To his relief, she didn’t seem to have forgotten him. She pulled away and leaned back. And he stood and moved two steps to the door. A conductor was there with ice. “Sorry to disturb you,” he said, holding the washcloth. In a bag this time.

“That’s OK,” Finn said, taking the ice. “Thank you.” He added.

“You are welcome.” The conductor’s eyes seemed to be trying to see into the compartment. But Finn turned and shut the door.

“Here you go,” Finn said, smiling as he handed her the ice.

Thank you,” Bev said as he handed the cold package to her. She winced as the cold touched her head again. She shut her eyes.

Bev went over things in her mind. She was on a train. A guy named Finn had Brought her a ticket. She had no luggage and no idea why she was going away from the Bay. She had told him that she had to get away. And she had a bump on her head, and the last thing she remembered was Thanksgiving.

“ I’m getting hungry,” Finn admitted. It was six. His usual dinner time.

She had no appetite, but the last thing she wanted was to be left alone again. She might forget, or someone might find her.

“Can I come in with you?” She asked, looking up at him. “I could eat,” though she wasn’t sure she could. Still, she felt weak with hunger. Her blood sugar was low.

“ Of course,” he said. “How soon could we go?”

“ Just a few minutes. Let me use the bathroom,” she said. And he watched as she slowly got to her feet, expressing signs of pain.

He wondered if she had any other bruises. Whatever had given her a bump may have knocked her down; maybe her knees were skinned, or perhaps she landed on her hip or twisted her ankle.

She went into the bathroom and shut the door. Inside, she checked her hair and wetted it down. There were a lot of loose hairs flying around in the air. What did she look like to Finn? Did he think that she never brushed it? Did he think she needed it to learn how to care for herself, as Jed had always said? “ You are a disgusting miss. Learn how to take care of yourself.” He would shout.

But when done, and after washing her hands she returned to where he waited. Finn jumped up and smiled.

“Are you ready now?” He inquired. His stomach had been growling.

“ Yes,” she smiled. Finn moved to the door and opened it.

After closing it behind her, he asked if he could take her arm. She nodded, and together they walked down the hallway.

There were a few more people than had been there earlier, and they all seemed to be dining with a few employees scurrying around to wait on tables.

Finn led them to a table near the exit. He let her face the front of the train and he faced backwards. Though it wasn’t his preferred way to sit. Still, it was only a few minutes, and he could deal with it. She moved to that seat first, and he didn’t want to make a fuss.

Soon someone took their order, and then drinks were before them. A few groups were sitting nearby, and speaking was difficult. He watched her every time someone passed. She looked up nervously. And then ducked her head. He turned his attention to whoever went past after watching her reaction.

When the food was delivered, he devoured his, but she ate slowly. And after only eating a third, she put down her spoon down and finished her drink.

He was finished by this point and drinking the second drink. When the server came to take things away. He let him take his plate, not agreeing to seconds or dessert, but then he faced her.

“Do you want to take that back to the room?” He asked, pointing to the food. She looked up at him, didn’t glance at the server, she nodded. He asked for a take-home bag.

It only took a moment. The bill was covered with the sleeper car ticket. She put her food in the container as Finn got up, and she followed. Her eyes happened to stray down the aisle. And that’s when she saw the man.

She recognized the face and gripped Finn tightly. She caught just a glimpse, but she knew that tall man with the dark hair. Who was it?

Finn looked down to her in surprise. “ What’s wrong?”

“There’s someone.” She said. “There is Someone behind us. He Looks familiar. I don’t know why.” She was shaking.

Finn being a typical curious man, glanced behind him. There were several men but none were looking their way. He frowned. “Which one?”

But Bev was terrified and shook her head, her face buried in his side. She didn’t want to look. The memory was painful and made her head ache. She was sure it had to do with the injury.

“OK, OK,” Finn said, looking down at her. Let’s go back to the room. He picked up the food. And they started back. Bev’s eyes closed. He guided her while glancing behind him every few feet.

Bev trusted Finn even across the two couplings. She didn’t fall or trip. He guided her safely, and she didn’t let go or open her eyes till he whispered. “We’re back,” and she heard the door open.

The evening proceeded smoothly. Finn talked, and Bev listened, interjecting things here and there. He was discussing the medical aspects of concussions, adding if she felt nauseous or dizzy, to let him know. She nodded. She used the bathroom once more. At 9:15, the conductor was at the door, asking about the beds.

Finn had glanced at Bev. “How do you feel about bedtime?” He asked, tilting his head a little. She agreed and he swiveled forward. “Yes, we’ll go to bed. Go ahead and put them down.” And he stepped back, and Bev moved into the bathroom, keeping Finn between her and the conductor.

It only took a moment; the beds were quickly made with the key, one on top of the other, like a bunk bed. “I don’t want the top,” she explained as soon as the door was securely closed behind the conductor.

“Hey, no problem,” Finn said. “I’ll take the top.” Usually, he didn’t bother having the top made as he traveled alone. And he slept on the bottom. And didn’t have the top made-up.

He down at her after she crawled into the bottom. He didn’t take off his pants as he was used to sleeping in them. Even on a good day, he would stay up too late and fall asleep on the couch or, after going into, lay down on top of his bed before doing his nightly routine.

“Goodnight and sweet dreams. I hope tomorrow reveals more answers and how you got that concussion.” He said as he crouched to see into her little cave under the top bunk.

She nodded and glanced down at her hands as they still hurt. She had noticed a couple of bruises on her legs and ankles. She wondered how she got those as well. “Yes, I hope so,” she replied softly.

Bev laid down while he turned out the light. She wasn’t sure if she were okay with the darkness. But still, there wasn’t much else to do about it. She needed tI sleep and couldn’t with the light on. Sleep was the only way to get better. She only hoped not to forget Finn again. The feeling of not understanding what was going on was terrifying.

“ Goodnight,” Finn said again into the darkness after he climbed up on the top bunk.

She had already closed her eyes.” Goodnight,” she replied.

The Clickety clack was hypnotic and comforting. Soon the rhythm and shaking of the train and the rocking and rumble through the base of the bed put her to sleep.

At some point, she awoke. She sat up and looked around. Finn wasn’t in the compartment. She looked at the window. They were passing through another town. But she realized something. It was a big town, it was Seattle. She could see the space needle flying by and then the station platform. She’d never been there before but she was sure it was the station.

Bev panicked. She put her hands to the glass and pressed her face against it. She could see people standing around staring at the train as it passed. The train wasn’t stopping! She felt herself panicking.

She turned from the window and bolted towards the door. She fell against it. And she heard the train whistle honking in the distance. She panted and turned the handle, terrified of what she should find on the other side. But nothing was there. She opened the door and scanned the hallways. There was no one as far as the eye could see. She began to run the hall but tripped and fell to her knees while looking around frantically and behind.

She reached the end of the car, gripping herself tightly. Outside the window, the city was passing. It seemed that they were going faster not slower.

And then Bev crossed between cars. It seemed to her that the connection was unstable. The metal clattered together, sparkling. She stumbled forward and nearly fell as she entered the next cab.

No one was there; She stared and began to tremble and stumbled down the aisle glancing from seat to seat. No one was hiding between the seats, nor lying down in the seats. She fell again halfway through the car. It seemed to her ears the static over the intercom was no longer static. It sounded like someone was laughing.

She went down to the lower portion of the car. No one was down there either. The bathrooms were empty. She couldn’t find a worker or a passenger and pressed her face to the glass again to looked out the window. They were speeding even faster than and had made it outside the city, but it was a blur. She tried the exit handle, but it wouldn’t open. She went back upstairs and continued to towards the diner car. She was crying. Now she could feel it as she climbed the stairs and stumbled again, halfway between the two cars. The connection was definitely coming loose. The gap was no longer a few inches, but almost six inches. Bev crawled over it and looked down. Sparks were flying like firecrackers.

Then she reached the dinner car. The door wouldn’t give to her tugging at first, but slowly, she managed to pry it open. She began to cry and call out. “Hello. Hello.” But she was sure everyone was gone, except for the voice on the intercom, she could hear them. Someone was laughing at her.

“ Bev,” whoever was said at last. “Bev. Finally, I’ve got you. Right where I want you. You’ll never get away from me. You thought you could. But you’re trapped now. And you are my victim. And will forever be. Now surrender. Give up, Bev.”

But fell to her knees, sobbing, but she looked upward and cried. “No, I won’t. I won’t.”

Bev lost consciousness.