A Change In The Tracks

MAMA

Molly scrunched her face in such a way that her freckles seemed to melt together. Her eyelids half opened only to close again as she let out a few heavy breaths. I wished she could remain in this peace, oblivious to the world around her. I dreaded the explanation that would be due when she awoke.

By God’s grace, the ride had been smooth, allowing Molly more time to sleep which bought me more time to think. I even found myself looking out the window, daydreaming of the new life that awaited us up north. I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to dream like that.

Sure, I was always thinking; thinking of ways to evade, appease, protect. Always on the defense. Who had time to dream?

We were leaving town with only $250 dollars to our name. 2 Train tickets would set us back significantly. Just as I had hoped, the conductor took pity on me hauling a sleeping child. Despite my fake attempt to find my ticket, He let me go with a nod of trust.

A sudden bump on the tracks jolted her awake, eyes wide and cheeks flush from being pressed into my lap. She looked around curiously confused as I stroked her head of chocolate brown hair that was a few days past needing a washing. “Hey, baby,” I said soothingly.

MOLLY:

I thought it was another nightmare, or night terror is what I think Dr. Carroll called them. I rubbed my eyes and looked up at Mama. My neck ached badly and It smelled like Grandpa’s cabin mixed with Mama’s perfume.

It felt like I'd been asleep for days. That kind of nap you take after being at the community pool on a hot summer afternoon when Mama was trying to “stay out of the house”.

Where were we now though?

I slowly sat upright and peeled myself off the seat, scooting closer to the wide window on my right. I look out and see the sky a pale yellow and leaves a hundred shades of red. I caught a slight reflection of myself in the glass and noticed the pigtails I usually wore were gone. My hair was shorter, just like my best friend Eliza’s. I always wanted short hair but Mama said my long hair was beautiful, coveted.

I reached to grasp a lock of my hair to be sure, while my other hand rested on the window. I looked back at Mama, who was giving me a strange look.

The hills whooshed past outside and I realized the pit of hunger in my stomach.

As the sleepy daze faded, I became more aware of my surroundings. Somewhere nearby the cry of a baby was muffled by the vibration beneath me, every now and then a slight bump.

A train?

I’d never been on an actual train before but Grandpa always used to tell me stories about them.

“Mama…are we on a train?” I asked somewhat confused, somewhat excited.

MAMA:

The whole first hour I tried to gather the words for the questions that were sure to come.

Molly was always asking questions. But even though she loved to talk, eventually she learned that keeping her curiosity quiet was often safer. Observing became her superpower, always picking up on details and recalling mundane incidents.

That was the part that terrified me. How much of her life she’d been an involuntary witness of the fear that surrounded her. She’d spent 8 years absorbing more than I could stomach to think about. I suppose that was also the part that motivated me.

She put her palm to her forehead with a wince and the guilt sank deep. Of course, I knew my reason for slipping her that Ambien was justified, but something about drugging your child doesn't exactly sit right.

Even though she had become good at staying quiet, I needed to be sure we could leave the house without a sound. Our safety depended on complete silence. The complete silence of an 8-year-old unfortunately required some help.

With one hand still on the window and her innocent face looking back at me, the moment I dreaded was a whisper away. Maintaining composure and positive energy was the easy part. The words were far more complicated.

“Yes, Moll, we’re on a train” I affirmed. I rubbed her back gently but braced myself for impact.

“But why, Mama? Is Daddy here? Where are we going?”

She had traceable amounts of joy in her voice, which surprised me. I hated being the one to sever that joy. I was about to open the floodgates of turmoil that she’d now spend her life bobbing up and down in. Even though she would’ve likely drowned in it otherwise.

“Sweetie” I paused.

“Remember that book about the lady who scattered flower seeds everywhere? The one you’d ask me to read practically every night?

She furrowed her brow and tilted her head.

“Miss Rumphius?” She answered.

“Yes! That one. Moll, remember how much you use to admire the pictures in that book? Those grassy hills and coast growing wildly with purple Lupines?”

“Yes Mama, I remember. That was my favorite book but then It got all ripped apart I think.”

I looked away and swallowed the sick feeling of that memory.

It was one of those episodes where anything was fair game. Even our daughter's belongings.

“That's where we’re headed, Moll. Up to Maine to live next to all those beautiful Lupines just like Miss Rumphius.”

It was almost like she didn’t hear me.

“But Mama, where is Daddy? Is he sitting in another seat on the train?”

I let some silence hang in the air before I answered her, hoping it would be a primer to the words that were coming. And I could see she was piecing it together before I started to speak again.

“Sweetie, this is very hard for me to explain, but I’m going to be honest with you, ok?”

“Ok, Mama.”

“You know that I love you more than anything in the world right? You know that I would do anything to protect you. Well sweetie, sometimes, we have to make hard choices because it's what's best for us. I made a choice for us that you may not understand yet, but it's something that had to happen in order to protect you. Do you understand, Moll?”

She nodded in slow motion.

“So, the reason we’re on this train, Moll, is that we’re starting fresh. We’re traveling to our new beginning up North where we don't have to be scared anymore, just you and me”

After taking in what I’d said, she leaned her head into my chest and stayed there. Her face was hot against my skin and I felt my shirt grow slightly damp. I kissed the top of her head over and over, trying to comfort her. We’ve sat like this a thousand times before. Sometimes it was just a simple skinned knee, but more often than not it was because of him.

As we remained there together in the quiet, I wondered what she was thinking. Was she mad at me? Was she relieved? Now it was me seeking answers.

Even so, this choice wasn’t made based on emotions. It was made based on instinct.

MOLLY

I always felt so safe with my head buried into Mama. When I was real little, sometimes I would dab a bit of her perfume onto my jeans and scrunch myself into a ball with my head tucked into my knees. There was something about the darkness and the smell of lavender and lemon.

I remember once when I was 5, I had been listening to the yelling and the slamming and the breaking. Mama always told me to stay in my room when that was happening, but I was scared and needed that perfume smell to help me feel better. As I crept down the hallway to Mama’s room, Daddy spotted me out of the corner of his bulging eyes. I hurried back into my room but It was too late. He crashed through my bedroom door with Mama trailing behind him, crying and begging him to leave me alone.

I understood why Mama was doing this. The truth is, I've even thought about running away before, but I could never bare leaving Mama.

As she explained everything to me, I couldn’t help but think of Rapunzel. How when she finally escaped the tower she was absolutely giddy but seconds later felt regret. She flip flopped between her joy and sadness and I never understood that. I always thought it was silly, but now it makes a lot of sense.

I stayed nestled in her arms and thought about the night before. Mama had let me stay up late and have chocolate pudding. We sat at the counter together and whispered about school, and boys, and what we would name our make-believe dog. I hope that now we will have more nights like that.

Even though I had only been awake an hour, I was growing impatient. I wanted so badly to see the Lupines and pick a bouquet of them for Mama. It felt as though this train would never slow down.

I breathed on the window, creating my own canvas. On the wet glass, I traced a stick-figured Rapunzel dancing among the Lupines.

MAMA

I felt a tremendous weight off my shoulders now that Molly knew everything.

The sun cast a golden hue into the train car and everything felt magical. I looked down at my watch and realized he would be waking up right about now. Even though we were miles away already, the thought of him realizing what had happened sent chills through my body. It will take a while to unlearn this anxiety.

When I was a little girl my father told me this story about a train that “ran away”. It was carrying hundreds of people, many of whom were traveling from the city to the country for Summer vacation. The people boarded that train in expectation of a joyous holiday, but before they knew it, trees were storming past much faster than normal and belongings were being thrown about. Mothers held onto their children tight and fathers were powerless as their families sat captive in a car of emanate death.

I knew that was a true story, but it always felt distant, like it couldn't actually happen. But there on that train, sitting next to my daughter, I realized our life had been like that runaway train. An unpredictable monster charging ahead at furious speeds. Someone or something had to intervene if there was any hope of surviving. A break, switch, a wedge, a choice.

All I knew is that we were no longer strapped in as victims of a tragic fate.

Our train was arriving.