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Stop Losing Things

trains and families

By Faith LucasPublished 2 years ago 4 min read
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Stop Losing Things
Photo by Ankush Minda on Unsplash

When Sasha was six, she had a much enduring conductor’s cap that continuously went missing. The white and blue stripes spent evenings abandoned under splintered see-saws or camouflaged under empty quarter water containers in her backpack. When she noticed its absence, usually while eating dinner on the couch, she’d spill the side dish of corn in her Banquet frozen meal tray in her hurry to find it. Andrei, three years older, told his sister to shut up her crying and searched with her, staying up after she’d gone to sleep clutching the hat, to wipe the couch and turn the lights out. On these occasions, Sasha fell asleep believing that Andrei had hidden the hat on purpose.

This is what Sasha was thinking about as her unfocused eyes fought through the rattling window to chase the enormous shadows carving up the passing countryside. Why am I on a train? I’m supposed to be taking a maths exam at the Williams building today at 3pm. Where even am I?

Sasha’s seat mate, a woman dressed in uncomfortable grey business casual, leaned over and murmured, ‘doesn’t it feel like we’re going faster than earlier?’ Sasha took in the seat mate and rest of the train car as casually as she could, dutifully nodded to the woman and looked out the window, pretending to consider this. The numbing roll of the seat’s vibrations and the comfort of the landscape’s color palette made her believe that she’d been on this train for a while and was traveling through familiar countryside, though she didn’t recognize it.

Andrei was older brother to four other children besides Sasha. He always knew where things were when any of them lost something but Sasha misplaced items the most. Sasha knew the process: he asked she last saw the stuffed horse, scolded when she couldn’t remember, sighed as they set out, hand in hand, towards the likely search grounds. He was eager to return to the house before the other children burnt it down, so his questions were efficient – what did you do today? Why did you fight him? Stop teasing her, you’ll only make it worse, ok? He always seemed to recover the treasure after he’d asked all his questions. Then, he’d smile and hand it back to her. Stop losing things.

As Sasha looked around for a sign indicating a destination or next stop, she saw that other passengers had also noticed the increasing speed and swaying of the train. Hushed conferences with travel companions and sharper eye contact between strangers made this the sole focus of the car. The leather of the seat squeaked as she shifted to get a better look at the others in the car – it was mostly business casual types, probably working in accounting or a similarly square profession that she hoped to graduate into this spring – but wouldn’t if she missed her maths exam. When three uneasy train conductors entered and tried to pass quickly through, someone shouted out, ‘hey, is everything ok?’ No one was comforted by the curt, ‘yes, of course,’ the conductors muttered as they fled towards the back of the train in a stately manner.

University was the only thing that Sasha thought about after leaving her family. Her sixteenth birthday was the last time she saw Andrei. He was doing laundry in the kitchen sink when she said she was going to the store and got on a bus. It was the best plan she could come up with, it was best for her siblings and best for herself if she could start over somewhere else. She would find a way to go to university. She would find a way to be alone. She would find a way to be okay. She left Andrei a note so he wouldn’t worry.

This broke the dam. The car immediately flooded with anxious voices that displaced the train’s inherent rumbling soundtrack. Guesswork sloshed through the car, maybe the train had a technical problem, maybe the conductor fell asleep, what happens if it doesn’t stop? Passengers seeped into other cars as everyone proselytized under guise of information gathering. Sasha listened quietly to every bit of conversation swarming the pulsing air. One theory based on a rumor based on two separate sources in an earlier car rose to the top. The conductor had locked the cab and vanished. That doesn’t make any sense, why would he do that? Where would he go? There’s no way he could’ve survived by jumping off – we’re going too fast.

He’s still on the train.

University courses were easy for Sasha. Paying tuition was not. Fitting in with classmates was not. Many times she considered returning home – Andrei would never move the siblings, she knew the route and even began the trek on a few dark nights, but never in earnest. It was a deprivation game and the more she played, the more certain she felt in her decision to never see them again.

He’s still on the train. The passengers looked first under their seats, opened the bathrooms, some even opened up large suitcases as though he’d surreptitiously folded himself into a pile of sweaters. Slowly, Sasha saw fear spring up in the rocking passengers’ eyes as they looked at one another more closely.

Suffocating, Sasha pushed open the heavy iron door and stepped out into the platform between cars. She took a deep breath and ran her hands along the railing in front of her for balance. When she heard the iron door open behind her, she turned, more out of custom than curiosity. He was dressed in uncomfortable business casual but Sasha knew that he was the conductor. He pulled a white and blue cap out of his inner suit pocket and put it on his head. Stop losing things, he said and pushed her.

immediate family
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About the Creator

Faith Lucas

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Comments (1)

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  • Jori T. Sheppard2 years ago

    This was an interesting read, I liked how you blended the main character’s history and present.

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