The Last Train

The Last Train

I wasn’t a depressive. I was a “wounded optimist.” Once, I even found the emotional strength to join a few dating apps and dream about a long, romantic vacation in Europe. But alas, disappointment would eventually knock on my door, and I would answer. I was sick and tired of the random visits, but it always came with wine… so I let it in.

Four months ago, I got promoted. I have no idea how that happened. I work as a senior editor at a publishing house in Manhattan. I guess you could say they pay me just enough so I don’t quit, and I work just hard enough so I don’t get fired. But, it’s not that I don’t have goals, you know? – like a niche. I love to paint. But, to be totally honest, my job requires mental Olympics, and I don’t feel like doing anything when I get home that doesn’t include the words Hulu or HBO. You know, one time when I was in high school, I painted a silhouette portrait of a teacher talking in her classroom. The school asked if they could hang it in the hallway. So, there’s that. I mean, they didn’t pay me or anything. My dad used to say,

“Ruby, printers paint for free. You need to charge these people.”

My parents died three months apart from each other almost six years ago. My dad died from colon cancer at sixty-seven, and my mom had breast cancer; she passed at sixty-two. I became an orphan overnight at twenty-seven years old. I’m actually adopted – or was adopted. Have I looked for my birth parents? Short answer: H-E double chopsticks NO. They didn’t want me then, and I don’t want them now. My real parents were amazing - literally the best. Whenever I would say something negative, my mom would always say,

“Ruby, where are your glasses?”

She wanted me to put on my rose-colored glasses and be positive. I would laugh and act like I was putting glasses on my face and then make an editor's note. I need her right now. I hate being alive. What do I have to live for? My job and the oblivion of endless editing? My non-existent love-life? I don’t have kids. If I died in my apartment, I wouldn’t be discovered for weeks.

“Ticket, ma’am?” A gentle, old voice said.

I jolted from staring out the train window to see a kindly, elderly train crew member smiling and putting his hand to me. I scrambled to find my iPhone in my purse, so he could scan my ticket QR code. He snickered at my frantic searching and said, “Should I come back?” I chuckled back with a dash of annoyance. “No, I’m - sorry, my phone is in here. I just… one second.” I dumped out everything in my purse on the seat next to me, and there it all was: my keys, iPhone, a hair comb, chapstick, wallet, and my suicide note. I know that he didn’t know what kind of note it was, but for some reason, my own knowledge of it made me feel completely naked in that moment. I quickly put the letter back in my purse and held my phone out for him to scan. He walked to the next customer, and I was breathing heavily from the accidental exposé.

I loved life as much as I love Gucci heels in size five. Beautiful, even perfect, but it hurts when I squeeze in my size seven.

I made up my mind in Boston during a meeting with remote colleagues in Los Angeles. For five seconds that felt like five hours, I looked down the corridor of my life, and I thought…if the next six years are like the last six years…then I don’t want to live six more days. I am empty, I am in tremendous debt, and I am worth more dead than alive. (Thanks to my life insurance)

My plan was to light candles, play my favorite chill house music playlist and go to sleep with the gas stove on.

My note read...

You probably don’t know me. My name is Ruby Marie Whitlock. I am the daughter of Charlie and Mary Whitlock. I am 33 years old. I lived as long and fearlessly as I could. But, today, May 27th, will be my last day alive. It is my birthday. What better day to leave than the day that I arrived? I am a painter. Please donate all of the paintings in my apartment to Goodwill. Life is a gift. I did not leave because I succumbed to depression. I left because when I tried to open the gift, it only led to another box and another box. I am at peace now. I hope to be remembered as a person who cried in the rain, so you didn’t know I was crying.

“You too pretty to be sad.”

My eyebrows raised, and I caught eyes with the same tickled train crew member.

I said, “Oh, I’m not sad. Just tired. It’s been a long week.”

He looked at me like he believed exactly zero percent of what I just said.

“Well, we got an hour left of this ride; you wanna talk about it?”

I thought to myself, what the heck? This is my last day on Earth. Might as well have one last conversation.

“My name is Jerry.” He told me.

I painfully cracked my face to form a smile and said, “Hi, I’m Ruby.”

Jerry took a seat across from my seat while saying, “You know what? I believe everything happens for a reason. I wasn’t supposed to work today, and I got called in. I saw you board the train looking so sad, and I told myself that I would find a way to tell you that… your best days are ahead of you. You know, God doesn’t put your greatest victories in your past – they’re in your future.”

I scoffed, “God… you know, Jerry. If there is a God, I’d love to know his priorities. ‘Cause I darn sure am not one of them.”

“Why do you say that?” He asked.

I answered, “Full disclosure?” Jerry nodded.

“Well…” I went on cautiously. Yet…something in this man made me feel so… safe. I felt like I could tell him anything. “My mother was addicted to crystal meth and let her boyfriend touch me. I don’t remember it, though. I was like three years old. It was discovered because a friend of my mom’s changed my diaper and noticed I had been hurt. I was put in the foster care system for a short while. Then, my parents adopted me like a month later.

But, they both died prematurely from cancer six years ago. I remembered praying so hard – begging God to at least allow one of my parents to survive. But, like I said… wasn’t a priority.”

I could tell that Jerry was moved to the core. He sat for a moment and let my testimony circulate through his mind. Then, he looked at me and said with empathy surging through his eyes.

“Ruby, God loves you. He loves you more than you could ever imagine. God doesn’t put us through tragedy…the enemy does that…but God does use tragedy to shape our perspective and help us become healers.”

“You see,” Jerry continued. “Grief is language. And the only people that can speak it, are the ones that experience total devastation. As long as we live on this side of heaven, we are going to go through trials and tribulations.”

I listened intently, asking almost under my breath, “Why?”

“It’s because there is such a thing as spiritual warfare, and we’re living in it. You notice you don’t have to teach a toddler how to lie?”

I smirked, “That’s a good point.”

He agreed, “Yes, it’s because we have a sinful nature that we’re born with, and the enemy uses it to get us to do terrible things to each other. And your parents… sweetheart, that’s heartbreaking. I’m sorry. Mine are gone too. I lost them like you, in my thirties – well, I don’t want to assume, are you?”

I laughed, “Yes, I’m thirty-three.”

Jerry gave a beaming smile.

“Okay, yes. I was very bitter about it for many years. But then I realized that I was angry at God for taking them, but they weren’t mine to begin with. We are the Lords, and we return to him when we leave this place. You’ll see your parents again. And so will I.”

His words poured ointment on my bleeding heart. I said, “I want to see them again.”

He kindly smiled, “Well, you gotta go where they’re going. Don’t let your dark feelings take you somewhere else,” he said while pointing down.

I bleated, “You think Hell is real?”

He shook his head with a little grin, “I think demons live somewhere. And I don’t think it’s heaven.”

I shook my head, “I don’t believe in all that stuff.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Well, that’s exactly what they want. If you don’t believe they exist, then you don’t stand a chance. Ruby, call on the Lord; he’ll help you find peace… and happiness.”

Just as he finished talking, the radio on his hip sounded, “Jerry - come to the front car – right now!!”

My countenance filled with fear and anxiety when he sprung up and ran to the front. There was a mixed girl sitting behind me. She stood up and tapped my shoulder. “Hey, miss? What do you think is going on?” I froze with bewilderment and said, “I have no idea.” She asked with a shudder, “Have you ever heard a call like that?” I said while thinking, “My gosh, no, I haven’t.” She said, “My name is Julia. I’m fourteen.” I thought to myself, “Well, aren’t you just the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.”

She continued with a slight tremble in her voice,

“I have never been on a train before. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you lost your parents.”

I said, “Yeah, I did.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “I lost mine last week. I’m on my way to live with my grandma in New York.”

I instinctively got up from my seat and moved to sit next to her. I hugged her as if I was trying to absorb her pain. “It’s gonna be alright, okay? I know what you’re going through. How did they pass?” She wiped her teary face, “Car accident. I should have been with them, but I was mad because they took my phone and stayed home. Maybe I could have stopped the accident or something, you know?” Julia broke into tears and began to sob in my bosom. That moment hit my perspective like a hammer. I realized how lucky I was to have had my parents thirteen years longer.

Julia lifted her head. “I just feel like my life is over. Who cares about me anymore? My grandma is old. When she’s gone, I’m just gonna be a nobody.”

I grabbed Julia’s hand and said, “Don’t you ever say that again. What’s your last name?”

“Masur.”

“You are Julia effing Masur, and you are going to impact the world. Do you know why?”

She asked, “Why?”

“Because you’ve already impacted me. You’re a world-changer. My mom used to say, God gives his biggest battles to his greatest warriors. I always thought that was a bunch of crap. But it just hit me! It’s true! We are warriors, we are game changers, Julia.”

Julia smiled and filled with hope, and so did I.

Jerry arrived back in our train car sweating profusely and looking dazed. He pivoted around, opened the train car door, and then ran back to us. “The train’s brakes don’t work!! I don’t know what we’re gonna do!! The conductor is trying to notify the train at the station, but our electrical system is down! We’re gonna hit that train going eighty miles an hour in five minutes! Ruby, little girl, we gon’ have to jump off this train!!”

Julia surged into panic, “No-no-no-no-no-no-no! I can’t jump off this train! I can’t – I can’t! We’ll break our – EVERYTHING!!” I shouted, “Jerry, Julia is right! We will probably die if we jump!” Jerry screamed with concern, “Probably is better than definitely!!! Do you want to live, Ruby?!” I looked at Julia.

Jerry screamed again, “Do you want to live, Julia?!!!”

I was planning on ending my life that day but on my terms. It felt like God was calling my bluff. Julia screamed, “I don’t wanna die! But, I don’t wanna jump!” In that second, I realized that jumping signified trying anything necessary to give myself life – to put life into my life.

I saw people from other cars jumping out of their doors.

So, I mustered up all of the courage I had in me and held Julia’s shoulders,

“Julia!!! We’re gonna hold hands, and we’re gonna jump!!!

Julia’s eyes filled with tears, “But I can’t! I can’t jump out of this train!!”

I looked at Julia more seriously than I had ever exuded and said,

“But, YOU WILL!”

The train felt like it was hurling faster and faster.

Julia and I held hands, and I screamed while we jumped, “God, save us!!!”

I broke my right leg, and she broke her left leg. The train at the station was evacuated, and our train did make impact – killing the conductor and twenty other people that didn’t jump off.

My best friend, Cameron, came to the hospital that same day. He walked into my room with a cake and said, “Happy birthday?” I smiled while looking scraped up and wounded. He put the cake down and sat on my bed.

“Thank you for coming,” I said weakly.

He gently rubbed my hand. “Rubes…your my girl. I almost lost you today.”

My mind was stricken with the plan in my note, and I said, “Yeah…you almost did.” Cameron rubbed my thigh.

I gently asked, “Why aren’t we together?”

Cameron answered, “Because we’d kill each other.”

We laughed, and I agreed, “Yeah, that’s probably true. I want to find love, Cameron. I want to be happy.”

Cameron whispered, “Well, then you’re halfway there. Love will find you, babe. Just become the woman of your dreams, and the man of your dreams will find you.”

“Where did you hear that?” Cameron grinned, “A movie, but it’s true.” I agreed, “No, no, I think you’re right. Can I move in with you?” Cameron nodded quickly, “Yes, yes, of course. But, you have an apartment.” I looked off and said, “I’m quitting my job. I’m a painter, Cameron. Aren’t I?” Cameron said with sincerity, “Yes, you are.”

As soon as I could hobble on my crutches, I went to visit Julia. Well, that was four years ago now. Julia is now going to NYU, and she visits my husband, Kenneth, and me during every school break. I even see Jerry every year at our Christmas party.

It’s crazy. I didn’t value my life until I had to save it. Julia is the most wonderful person and the best aunt to our little two-year-old, Mary. I am forever thankful for runaway trains.

Will I ride on a train again? No. That was my last train.