Train of Consequences

Clickity-clack! The car rocked side to side. Thundering onward into the darkness. Sparks flew from the wheels grinding on the old tracks. Stagnant air whistled through the cracks in the doors of the train car. A sharp turn in the track caused the car to violently lurch.

“Wha-where am I?”, Tim Green rubbed his eyes trying to regain his bearings. “Hello? Is anyone there?”,Tim yelled. “Come on, this isn’t amusing”, his voice trembling.

He took stock of his surroundings. The stale air was pungent with the smell of urine. The sickly green light emitting from overhead barely made the mold streaked advertisements readable. He felt his pockets for any sign of where he might be and how he got there. The last thing he remembered was being at the bar for a night out with his buddies.

“No. That’s not right”, he recalled. He distinctly remembered the refreshing feeling of the cool night air hitting his face. The gentle breeze had instantly dried the sweat on his brow. He also remembered the haze of cigarette smoke he couldn’t avoid as he rounded the corner towards the alley to his car. He hated the smell of the damned things. He watched them slowly steal the life of his mother. The only family he ever truly knew. Thinking harder he could see the flickering orange yellow light overhead. None of this explained his location or the predicament he found himself in now.

“Damnit! Who are you? What do you want from me?”, he shouted in panicked anger. The sickly green light was unrelenting. The wind continued to whistle through the gap in the doors. He was unable to make out anything beyond his flickering greenish reflection. Still the train car sped along the track. Rocking side to side. Spitting sparks in its wake.

Tim felt in his pockets again for anything he may have missed. Then he started looking on the grime covered floor and the old worn seats for any clue. Then he went to the doors. He still couldn’t see beyond his ghostly green reflection. He decided to open the door. If for nothing more than to see beyond his own imperfect face staring back at him. “Ow! Shit!”, he pulled his hand back to see a trickle of blood forming where the door bit him.

Wait, it didn’t bite him. The door was boobytrapped. Just as he began to ask himself why and who the speaker overhead crackled to life. “Timothy Green. Born May 19, 1998 to Marsha Green,” an oddly familiar voice recited matter of factly. “You were born at Jackson General Hospital in Ripley, West Virginia,” the voice continued. “You grew up in Monmouth County, New Jersey. You were ashamed of growing up in a mobile home park despite all your mother sacrificed for you,” the voice had turned accusatory. “I want to gauge whether or not you’re a good person. So I’m going to ask you questions to determine that,” the phantom voice informed. Tim looked around trying to find a camera or any sign of someone watching him.

“For every right answer I may decrease the speed of the train, but for every unsatisfactory answer the speed will increase. Are you ready to begin?”, enquired the captor. Tim was in shock. The sweat began to bead his forehead. The words got trapped in his throat. All he could do was nod. “Good”, was the response over the speakers. That settled it, Tim now knew he was being watched. He just couldn‘t tell from where.

“First question, Timothy. When you were seven years old your mother asked you if you had taken money from her purse. Money that was meant to pay the rent. Money for which she had worked very hard. Do you remember what you told her?”, the voice crackled over the speaker. Tim thought for a moment. That was fifteen years ago. “How am I supposed to remember exactly what I said a decade and a half ago?”, he pleaded with whoever was in control. He immediately felt the train lurch as the speed increased. “Answer me,” Tim shouted, “how do you expect me to remember a conversation that happened that long ago?” The train car rocked side to side, the lights overhead hummed and flickered, the wind continued to whistle through the gap in the doors, and the sparks flew from behind the speeding train. “Answers that are found to be unsatisfactory must be met with a consequence,” replied that eerily familiar voice.

“Question number”, is all that the voice got out before Tim shouted. “No! I’m not playing your game. I’m not answering your questions. I’m not going to sit here and torture myself for your enjoyment. I want answers. Who are you? Where am I? Why are you doing this?” Tim panicked as he felt the train once again speed up. “Stop! Stop please. I’ll cooperate. You win.”, Tim cried as he slumped in fear and defeat. “Question number two, Mr Green,” the voice resumed, “Michael Berg was your best friend throughout high school. When he discovered his girlfriend was cheating on him senior year you were there for him. Who was she cheating on him with?”. There was that accusatory tone again. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. “Me. She was cheating on him with me”, he responded in a repentant tone. “Very good”, answered the voice. The speed did not decrease. “You said you would decrease the speed with satisfactory answers. You didn’t slow down”, Tim cried out. “I stated I may decrease speed with satisfactory answers. Your outburst must be met with a consequence”, replied the voice dryly.

The train car rounded a curve. Tim saw the train tilt to one side. He wondered how much more speed the train could take before a curve like that would cause the train to derail and end this nightmare. “Question number 3. Why did Olivia break up with you last year?”, the voice asked in an even tone. Tim searched for the answer. He’d gone on a drug fueled bender for weeks following the break up. “She said I wasn’t ready for commitment. That she didn’t want to waste her youth on a relationship that meant nothing”, Tim answered. He immediately felt the speed increase. “That’s what I remember!”, Tim shouted. “This answer may be satisfactory to you, but deep down you know she left you because you were unfaithful to her.”, the voice remarked. Tim knew that he had no rebuttal. Somehow whoever was now in control of his fate new truths that Tim refused to face.

The faint sounds of sirens caught his attention now. He couldn’t tell for sure where they were coming from. They were barely able to be heard over the clickity-clack of the train. Were they in his head? “Fourth question, Tim. What is the last thing you remember before waking up on this train?”, the voice echoed the very question Tim had been pondering since he awoke. “That voice”, he thought to himself, “it’s so familiar. Who is it?” He closed his eyes and took in the sounds and the rocking movement of the train car. The sirens were fading, but he still had no clue where they were coming from. “I remember the bar, walking out, and heading towards my car”, Tim recalled. “There was a flickering streetlight overhead. I don’t remember anything else.” The train increased speed. “I told you what I could remember! How is that unsatisfactory?”, Tim screamed. “How am I supposed to remember anything other than what I saw?” The voice crackled through the speaker, “Just because you do not see it does not mean it cannot be remembered.”

“Final question, Timothy Green. Were you a good person?”, the voice asked. The voice came across the speaker clear. All other sound dropped away. Tim’s eyes went wide in panic. He knew who the voice belonged to. It was his. “No. I’ve lied, I’ve cheated, I’ve stole. I’m not a good person. I deserve any consequence coming my way”, Tim replied utterly defeated.

Tim remembered the one thing that no one ever does. The void. The blackness. The nothing.

He sat down, resolved to his fate. The fate that had already visited him. Tim prepared for whatever awaited him at the end of the line. The train sped down the tracks. Clickity-clack clickity-clack. The metal sarcophagus rocking side to side. The wind whistling past the gap in the door. Sparks flying behind the speeding train in a dazzling display.

Tim remembered the moment he died.