Criminal logo

4:30 Express

The Buttershire Mystery

By Jeff JohnsonPublished 2 years ago 10 min read
1

I woke up this morning and had my morning coffee. I knew I had far too much to do today. I'm supposed to catch the 4:30 am express to mothers, but somehow I am not motivated. Probably knowing I will have to endure my dreadful sister and her three brats. My sister and her husband have recently had an unfortunate parting. He's in jail for money laundering. She is evicted and staying with our mother until she can get on her feet.

I dread family gatherings. Ours usually fluctuate between hostage situations and attempted murder cases. I would rather stay in my apartment in my little world. I love my friends and my adopted family. I feel safer with them. The Burks that lives next door is a quaint older couple. On the opposite side of me is the Hui family. The two are oil and water combination.

Then there is Ms. Buttershire. Her door faces mine. She inherited the Buttershire fortune, and she is quite the character. The other day she was leaving her apartment as I was returning. She has on this dress resembling those of the 30s or 40s, where there were poodles she had meticulously replaced with sunflowers. She mumbles and fumbles for her keys with every word that comes out of her profanity-laced mouth, gasping angrily. I smiled and opened the door quickly. The apartment next to her is the new guy. I'm not sure what he does, but I'm sure we will find out at the upcoming Home Owners meeting. Where everyone gossips before the meeting. We are, after all, a close nit group.

Moments later, I hear loud talking at my door. I overhear my neighbors fighting. It's the Burks, the snobs, as everyone calls them, and Hui's. I grab a cup and press it against the door to listen. "You took my parking spot. I pay for that spot." Mr. Hui's voice and his distinctly Asian accent then say, "I paid for that spot!" Then I hear doors slam. I giggle to myself. I love their fights. Who needs TV?

The phone rings, "Charlie, bring treats from one of those nice bakeries." I ask, "Anything in particular?" Mother adds, "Something chocolate. Maybe an Eclairs. I adore those." I laugh and ask. "What about for my sister?" She adds, "I don't care what she wants." I laugh again. "Now, that is my mother." She asks, "Is that Buttershire lady still your neighbor?" I answer. "Yes, she is. Why?" She replies, "The News says, "There's a scandal in the air with the Buttershire family." I add. "Oh?" She says snidely. "You don't watch Television?" I reply, "Some." She replies, "My boring child." She adds, "Go find out the goods." I add. "Mother, I will not. I am not the nosey neighbor." She laughs, "Really." I add. "Mother, I'm going to hang up now. See you shortly."

I step out at the same time Ms. Buttershire is returning. She looks at me disheveled and says, "I apologize I was rude this morning." I smile, "That's ok. Everyone has a bad day." She adds, "Mine has turned into a bad life." I add. "I'm sorry to hear that. May I help you with your stuff?" She adds. "Please do." I open the door and help her into her lavish apartment. I walk in the door and am awe-struck. She says, "Bunch of expensive junk." I glance at her, "This looks like a museum worth millions." She adds. "It's stuff my hoarder family collected over the centuries. When I kick the bucket, I'm giving it all away to the museum in town, if they'll have it." I reply, "I'm sure they will."

She says, "Have a seat." I sit by the bar. She asks, "Where were you going?" I reply to get Eclairs from the bakery. I'm supposed to go to my mother's tomorrow to be with my family, and she wanted something sweet." She says, "You don't drive, do you?" I reply no. "I'm taking the 4:30 am train." She adds, "I hate that train. Rode it many times, drunks everywhere." I laugh. "Thankfully, I won't be drunk."

She says, "I used to drink a lot when I was young. I had to get sober to run things. Then my brothers came along to screw it all up." I sat and listened quietly. She adds. "I guess you've seen the News?" I say, "No." She replies, "Lucky you." I add, "That bad, huh?" She says, "They screwed everything up." I add. "Sorry to hear that." She says, "here, have a drink." I reply, "Never touch the stuff." She adds, "Smart man. I left them a fortune to work with mostly company stocks. Now they are broke and trying to blame me. Men are a pestilence." I sit and listen. She continues talking faster, harder, and angrier. I look at the clock at 7 pm. The bakery is closed. I think to myself, "Mother will not like that." Ms. Buttershire, talking as hard as she can.

Suddenly I'm out. I wake up on the 4:30 train with no idea how I got there, and I have no ticket. This man leans over me and says, "One too many, bro?" I look up, and he's wearing a cowboy hat and caps. I reply. "No, I don't drink, Sir. Where am I?" He replies, "You are on the 4:30, my man." I look at him, offended he would speak to me in the familiar. "Sir, I don't know you that well." He has a News Paper the headlines read. Ms. Ellen Buttershire was found Dead in her home this morning cause of death is yet to be determined. He looks at me. I explain to him. "She was my neighbor. I was at her house last night." His only words were, "Hmmm,"

I ask him, "Who are you?" He replies, "I am just a man." I reply. "I, too, am a man. That answer doesn't quite help me any. Who are you? And thank you for helping me. I owe you one." He says, "I am what I am." He puts a toothpick in his mouth and grunts. I respond, "A grunt is all I get? I am not worthy of an answer?" He turns to me and says, "Yep." I shift my body and look around at the train cabin that is now full of people. May I ask which direction we are going on this train? He looks at me and says, "Looks east to me." I notice that we keep passing depots, "Why is the train not slowing down?" I start to see familiar turf. "These are familiar houses. I grew up here."

Then I see three children with a bed sheet. "Welcome Home! Uncle Charlie! We love you!" As the train zooms by and doesn't slow down. I again approach the gunslinger and ask, "Why isn't the train slowing down? The next stop is my stop!" One lady says, "Pull the string." I reach up and pull the string. He says, "I don't know." Dismayed by the speed, I say, "You are no help. I am going to talk to the captain." I walk through car after car after car to get to the captain.

I open the door, and to my surprise, my new neighbor is the conductor. I say, "Hello." He smiles, "Hello, finally we meet." I smile, "Yes. How did I get here?" He replies, "I have no idea." I ask, "Why is the train not slowing down." He remains silent and glares at me. "Sir, that is a question." He turns and looks out the window. "My stop is coming up. Please slow down." He stands up and pushes me out of the doorway. He then closes the door then locks it behind me. "This makes no sense!" There has to be someone I can call or something. I reach for my phone to find my pockets are empty. The train picks up speed.

I notice there is a map on the wall. It shows all the stops. One thing that stands out the route is one massive loop, a continuous circle. I stand there more confused. I make my way to the back and sit down. Moments later, the cloaked man walks up to me. "What did you find out?" I reply, "nothing of consequence." He stands there looking around, watching the scenery pass. I ask, "Why are we on this train?" He responds, "This train has a purpose. We can't see it." I reply. "What is that supposed to mean?" He says, "When we come to the central area of the route. Look at what's at the center." I ask. "What am I looking for?" Moments later, I notice this bright shining tower. "Buttershire Corporate offices." I sit down and say, "I didn't see that coming.

The Train speeds on. I notice that again we are coming back to where I grew up. This time the children are out there with a sheet. "Uncle Charlie! Welcome Home!" I wave at them from the train car as it passes. The third time the sheet says, "Uncle Charlie! Please get off the train!" I shrug my shoulders. Finally, after what seems like, forever, the train slows down and comes to a stop. I see police entering the train. The officers arrest the train conductor. Then they start to search the train. I watch them as they go through compartment after compartment. I can see the short detective opening the cabin door. I sit nervously.

He says, "Tickets?" I think to myself, "Why would he be collecting tickets?" Then he walks over to me. I begin to sweat. "Ticket?" I cringe. "I don't have a ticket." He asks, "Why not?" I reply. "I don't know how I wound up on the train." I cringe and look away. "Were you drunk?" I reply, "No, I don't drink?" "Where do you live?" I reply. "Berkshire Apartments number 454." He gasps. "Do you know Ms. Buttershire?" I say, "Yes, I did." He says, "You said, did! How did you know something had happened to her?" I reply, gritting my teeth. "I saw the paper." He looks at me and says, "What paper? There are no News Papers that could have found out she was deceased that fast. I think you are lying. Officer! Arrest this man!" Suddenly the compartment is filled with police officers. I am in handcuffs. Then my mother pulls up. "I guess you didn't get the Eclairs did you? Pity." I shout, "Mother! I am about to go to jail for something I didn't do." She says, "Oh dear, stripes will make you look huge." I shout I could use a little help! She adds, "What would you have me do? I am not wearing stripes, my child." I shout again, "Mother! Get me out of this!" She walks over and kisses me on the cheek. Then she says, "You should have gone to the bakery as I told you too, dear." I look at the officer, "Take me to jail. Please." He says, "Right."

After days of being in jail and brutally questioned by the police, the detectives concluded I did not murder Ms. Buttershire. The conductor, however, was hired by her family to cover up the theft of millions of dollars of family money. He thought he was making a getaway on a train. He didn't think out his plan very well and wound up on a train going in circles. My Nephew and nieces alerted the police when the train never slowed down. The brats saved the day. Mother finally got her Eclairs. My sister is now living with some new man. The Hui's paid for a year's worth of parking, and the Berks are finally quiet about the parking spot. The building isn't the same without Ms. Buttershire. I go for a walk and notice a light in Ms. Buttershire's apartment. I think how strange and a shadow.

fiction
1

About the Creator

Jeff Johnson

I am that late bloomer that decided to follow his passion late in life. I live for stories that are out of bounds, unusual, and beyond normal limits. I thrive on comedies, horror stories, and stories that tug at your heart.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.