Heavy Load

Tree...tree...tree...

The picture frame sized window displayed an idyllic landscape. Tall, thin, sparsely placed pines rolled on and on until they became an indiscernible blur of greens and reds and browns.

How had I come to be here?

Here was an empty train car with red and black threadbare carpet in an art nouveau pattern that curled and swirled in a deranged fashion that made me dizzy after more than a moments glance. The rest of the car followed suit; red and black leather seats shined to polish that mirrored the rapid flicker of the amber lights above, a burgundy on even deeper burgundy wallpaper in a geometric design that crawled the walls in all directions, even the car doors were an ornate mess of metal grate and wood. The entire car seemed to move and breathe, and with every breath I felt suffocated and trapped. And I was.

I'd pulled at the grates, at the windows, at the luggage compartments, with no success. I'd yelled a few times but the sound fell apart mid-air, as if I had called for help into a paper cup.

There was nothing to do but wait and watch for some sign of...anything.

But there was only tree after tree...tree...tree...

Was it my imagination or were the trees thickening, moving closer together?

I began to open and close my eyes over and over in an attempt to slow down the moving landscape. The images began to darken and shift. The trees were undoubtedly pulling together and the light outside the train car was being crowded out. Darkness began to creep in. I could see my face reflected in the window. Large dark eyes, with dark circles beneath. A thin mouth turning downward at the edges. I tried to smile, but the image was strange and tense.

Who was I?

Tree...tree...tree...box...

It had only been a glimpse but it was enough to make me uneasy. A wooden box with a puff of white fabric spilling from one end.

Why was I here?

As the trees closed in and the darkness spread, the lights in the car seemed all the brighter. Hospital. That's what they reminded me of. They flickered still, on and off, in and out, breathing, gasping...I felt sick in a way that was both terrifying and familiar. My stomach rejected a memory that my mind could not recall. Don't look, don't look.

Tree...tree...tree...box...

I could see it, even with my eyes tightly shut, the pressure causing swirls and lights to undulate across the visions.

Tree...tree...tree...box...blanket...shoeprints...shadow...

I dare not open my eyes.

"Is someone there?"

I both hoped for an answer and for silence from the empty car. There was the click, click of the wheels passing rail after trail, the clanging of the car doors bouncing in their hinges, the hum of the lights overhead, and the howl of the wind passing by the the window, though it sounded nearly identical to...

Tree...tree...tree... box...blanket...footprints...shadow...the howl...

A baby. There was a baby in the box, the darkness closing in around it, the shadowy figure fast approaching, darting behind one tree and then another, leaving deep footprints in the dark forest mud. With my eyes closed, I could smell the decaying pine needles, the damp leaves, the earth turning as worms and beetles and maggots devoured and dined on their dark dinner.

"Go away!"

The empty train car did not answer, save for the howling which grew louder. Was it my imagination or was the train moving faster?

The shadowy figure leaned out from the trunk of the pine tree nearest the box, peering faceless into it. A tiny, chubby hand reached up. The figure reached down, past the tiny hand, and into the box, pulling out a length of white, soft fabric.

"No...no!"

Two feminine hands, pressing, pressing, and the howling dying, dying. I could not breathe! Suffocating! Suffocating!

I could bear it no longer, I opened my eyes to the window and saw the figure staring back, her dark eyes tired, her mouth turned downward into a frown, a silent, still bundle at her breast.

Suddenly, I felt the weight of it in my arms. The weight of my own sin.

I looked down at my shoes, refusing to acknowledge the heavy white fabric in my embrace which I had somehow overlooked before. There were the small white, canvas tennis shoes caked in dark mud and pine needles.

The train slowed but never stopped. It carries on and on and so do I, in an endless spiral to a destination never reached. Surely, this is hell.

Tree...tree...tree...