Amber Eyes

Trigger warning: Touches on some sensitive topics including war, holocaust, depression, suicide.

A jolt in the rails woke David with a start. He was the sole passenger on a commuter train – at least in the train car he was sitting in. He looked around, stretching out his shoulders and legs. How long had he been asleep? Come to think of it, how did he even get on the train? He couldn’t remember boarding or where he was going. It looked like his usual commuter Go Train, heading into Toronto, but a quick glance out the bright window didn’t give him much of a hint as to where along the line he was. He could be heading West for all he knew. He reached for his wallet. Maybe his ticket would tell him. That’s when he realised, he had neither a wallet, or a ticket. Upon further panicked patting and pocket checking, David realised he had nothing on him other than the clothes on his back. He got up and started walking around to try and figure out what the next stop was. Last thing he needed was a penalty for riding the train without paying fare.

As he walked through the train car, he realised that although it looked like his usual Go Train, it was a little different. The walls were bare. In place of the usual advertisements sprawled across the walls, there were blank spaces. It made the train feel like an unfinished painting.

His pace quickened as he walked through the bottom section of the train. He quickly stepped up through the narrow stairs that lead to the second floor of the double decker train. As he got to the top step and looked up through the centre of the rows, he saw an old man sitting at one of the window seats. “Great” thought David. “Maybe this guy can tell me where we’re going.”

“Excuse me sir” David started.

The old man turned slowly and looked at David. He didn’t say anything. Just stared at him over his glasses, which were perched midway on the bridge of his nose.

“I uhhh, I was wondering if you knew where this train is going.” David managed to spurt out. There was something that unsettled him from the old man’s gaze. His eyes were a striking, yellow amber colour. They almost looked like a lazy fire encapsulated in oozing honey.

“What does it say on your ticket?” asked the old man.

“I don’t have one. I mean…I guess I lost it. I can’t find it in any case.” Answered David.

“Well in that case, it’s completely up to you.” The little man said. His voice was kind, but his eyes were intense.

“Um ok? What does that mean? I mean like what’s the next station, you know?” David continued. He didn’t think the question was that difficult.

“Still up to you” the man retorted. He turned back to the window and continued staring out at the passing trees and houses.

“Ok stop messing around. I just need to know so I can figure out where I’m going from here” David said, now with an exasperated tone. The next stop must be coming up soon. The train never went for this long without stopping.

The man turned back to him and said, “It all depends on what you want your final destination to be”

“My house?” David answered sarcastically. “It’s in Toronto if you wanted to know that too”.

“I know that. But I don’t mean your physical house,” said the man.

“Then what do you mean? And what do you mean you ‘know’ that my house is in Toronto?” David asked incredulously.

The man shifted himself in his seat to face David directly. He said, “David. You won’t be able to get off this train until you know what you want. Do you really want to go back home? Do you know if it’s all worth it?”

David’s stomach twisted in a knot as soon as the old man said his name. What was this? A dream?

“What on earth are you talking about? How do you know my name?! You’re nuts.” David managed to say, as he backed up. He walked away from the old man quickly, and walked down the staircase back to the first floor of the train. He’d have to find someone else who could let him know where this train was headed.

“How did the old man know my name?” The thought kept swirling around David’s head, as he walked towards the doors that connected the moving train cars.

As soon as he opened the door to the next train car an awful stench hit his nostrils. In a daze, David stumbled, and the full assault on all his senses became even more intense, sudden, and eye wateringly overwhelming. As his knees buckled, he reached for the closest seat to the right of the door and plopped himself down. Here he noticed a plethora of things. The train was no longer the Go Train. It was still a passenger train, but it was old in style with wooden seating with maroon upholstery. The most striking comparison was the fact that this train was full to the brim with wounded soldiers. Their tattered uniforms, and bandaged limbs were haphazardly positioned across the seats. Barely any men were speaking, save a few quiet murmurs and the occasional cries of pain from those who were very badly wounded.

A dull throbbing pain began to set in on David’s left knee, and he realised as he looked down that he too was dressed in a torn and bloody blue uniform and had his fair share of injuries. His leg had been bandaged and splinted and his head also had a bandage wrapped around it. His head throbbed with every bump of the old 1800’s train speeding along the ancient rails. “How is this possible? Is this some kind of a war re-enactment?” He thought to himself. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“Isn’t this a sight?” A voice broke through his thoughts.

David looked toward the voice. It belonged to a young man sitting across from him.

“Yeah, it’s terrible.” David manages to mutter. “Say, where are we going?” he adds.

“Baltimore I think.” the young man answers.

“What happened. I mean, why is everyone so wounded?” David continued, hoping to situate himself somehow in this madness.

“What do you mean ‘what’ happened? Gettysburg happened that’s what.” The young man answered, one eyebrow raised. “I guess you got quite the blow to the head.” He concluded to himself when David didn’t answer.

David looked out the window at the passing fields. Gettysburg. Why did that sound familiar. He combed through his mind for knowledge from past high school history classes.

The young man continued. “We were all told we would fight for honour. Fight to protect our families, our values, our lives…our freedom. And now what?”, he gestured to the train car full of maimed and dying soldiers. “Now just death and despair. While the old and decorated generals sit safe in their tactical planning rooms, us young ones go off to our deaths. Why? For what? Such evil. It doesn’t seem worth it. Seems like such a waste.”

David sat silent for a moment. He answered carefully, “I guess it is a waste. But it seems like the soldiers…like us (he added after a pause), fight for the freedom of our future generations. So they can flourish and be happy. If we didn’t fight and risk it all, maybe they wouldn’t have it so good.”

The soldier looked directly at David, his eyes stern and serious. David noticed his eyes for the first time; they were the same swirling amber fire that the old man had.

…The old man…that seemed like it had been ages ago…

The young man said, “War is evil. It is a game of chess played with human lives. Human lives that are precious. Every single one of them. What I can tell you though is that when you truly look evil in the face like that – when you face the uncertainty of life beyond the next few steps. When you suddenly know in your heart that you are probably going to die. That’s when you realise an absolute yearning for life. I have never felt more thankful for just being alive than after waking up in the field hospital at Gettysburg. Thankful that I will see my mother and younger brothers again. Thankful that I have been given a second chance. Many were not as lucky and you or I.”

David sat silent. The immense weight of what the soldier was saying bore down on his shoulders. He experienced a surge of sadness coursing through him. The raw emotion of families grieving as they buried their sons, fathers, and brothers, in early graves. It just wasn’t fair to anyone when their loved one was ripped away from them in such a sudden and horrendous way. He cleared his throat as he felt the tears beginning to well up. He was now thinking of his own mother and sister.

“Sir”, a woman’s voice broke the silence.

David looked up to see a young nurse holding a clip board.

“You’re being moved to car 47. Please follow me.” She said, as she helped David up and shoved a crutch under his arm.

He followed the young nurse, hobbling along through the narrow path between the train seats. She moved slowly ahead of him, occasionally checking in on soldiers’ wounds as she went. The summer heat was particularly sweltering, causing the pungent odour of blood and sweat to waft nauseatingly through the train compartment. David could hardly wait to reach the connecting doors, where he could gasp for some fresh air before entering the next car.

As the connecting train doors swung open and the nurse walked through, David could see the next cart full of soldiers. He stepped across the rickety connection between the two train cars, and for a split-second thought to himself, “What if I jumped off right now…this is a dream right?”, but he decided against it. Instead, he shuffled himself through the door. The bright midday summer heat was diminished, and a dark industrial shadow suddenly hung over the cart.

David realised he was no longer in pain. In fact, his knee seemed to be back to normal, as did his head. The stench of blood and death was replaced by that of stale cigarettes, and the maroon upholstery of the previous train was replaced by a dark grey. The train was still old looking as far as David was concerned, but there were a lot more metal components used on the inside of the train structure, as opposed to the wooden pews in the previous cart.

David glanced back through the open connecting door behind him. No soldiers. Just a huffy looking man with a newspaper under his armpit looking to get through. David quickly stepped out of the way to let the perturbed man through, and then meandered over to an open spot across from a different man who was looking out the window and tapping his foot nervously. He could’ve been in his late 20’s but looked aged beyond his years with a creased and furrowed brow. He was looking out the window with such interest that David also gazed outside. The dark buildings passed by as the train wove through a seemingly endless greasy and dirty industrial urban complex. Where am I? Wondered David. Maybe if I got my hands on a newspaper….

“Feeling lucky?” a voice said.

The voice belonged to the man sitting across from him. He had his hand outstretched towards David offering him a cigarette. David could see the number 7 on the box.

“Oh no thanks, I don’t smoke.” Answered David.

“Ahhh just as well.” The man replied. “You know, my wife hates it. My smoking that is. But the box says Lucky Strike. I don’t gamble, so I smoke these instead. I always say maybe they’ll give me some good luck you know?” he said quickly, lighting the cigarette. After a deep inhale and exhale his nerves seem to calm a little bit. He scoffed to himself and continued, “You know it’s ironic though. I’ve had anything BUT luck these past few years. The world is going to the dogs.”

David tried to assess what year or time it was. Clearly this had to be a dream, but there were such details. Things he never knew that he had stashed away somewhere in the confines of his brain. He glanced at an old newspaper that had been shoved into the crack between the seat and wall of the train car. He saw the year: 1932. Wasn’t that the Great Depression?

“So what happened?” probed David. Hoping perhaps to get more details about the time period he now found himself thrust into.

“What happened? I’ll tell you what. I just got let go from another job. Rent is going up, food is through the roof. Mary, my wife, can’t keep us all afloat with her cleaning. My children are already hungry as it is.” The man answered, his foot tapping again. “It’s just all so hard you know? I’m tired. I want it to stop” he added, looking toward David with a sorrowful stare.

David felt a pang of sadness within himself and felt a connection with this man. Being tired and wanting it to stop – the dread, the disappointment, all of it. But he also felt a need to comfort the man and to let him know all was not lost. He said, “You know, when one door closes, another one opens.” It was something his grandmother used to say to him when he was an angst-ridden teenager always draped in self loathing for any little mistake. He would always roll his eyes at her when she said that, but it was something he held close in his heart especially after her death. Funny thing, he hadn’t thought of that phrase for a long time now.

He remembered the young soldier from the previous cart and added, “You also have a family that needs your moral support. Even though you might feel useless sometimes especially with the loss of a job, your presence and love are actually what they all need most. A job is just something you do; but it doesn’t define your worth. There will be other jobs that come your way, just hang in there.”

The man sat still, puffing on his cigarette, looking at the passing buildings. He turned to David after a while, making deliberate eye contact. David hadn’t noticed the amber colour of his eyes before, but now it’s like they were becoming more gold with every passing second.

“So what do I do next? Where do I go?” he asked.

“You go home to your wife and kids, and you try your best to find another job. There’s always tomorrow, and another day after that” David answered.

The man didn’t respond. He just smiled and leaned back in his seat while looking out the window at the passing urban jungle.

David heard the door of the train car open behind him, and a voice bellow, “Get your tickets ready, coming by to check tickets!”.

“Oh shit” thought David, “Now I’m in for it.” He nonchalantly stood up as if to stretch his legs and began checking his ‘luggage’ in the overhead compartment area. He only had so much time before he began to look conspicuous. The man checking the tickets was already giving David the suspicious side eye as he made his way through the passengers. Clearly, he’d seen this move before.

David edged his way towards the next connecting doors. If only he could slip away while the man was turned around.

No such luck. As soon as he started walking towards the doors he heard, “Hey you! Stop! I need to see your ticket or it’ll be a fine!” At this point he ran the length of the train car and burst through the doors to the next train car as fast as he could. He stumbled into another era yet again.

This time there were no seats or windows, and a great number of people were rammed into a small and dark area. There was an assortment of people, young old, women, men, children. Everyone was standing or sitting on makeshift pillows made of clothing or other basic items. If it wasn’t for the people crowding the cart, David would’ve sworn that this train car was one that was used for cattle rather than people.

He instinctively reached behind himself only to find that the door behind him had been swallowed up and in it’s place was a solid wall. There seemed to be no way out of this cart.

He moved forward through the people, inching through the swaying crowd towards the only opening in the cart. The 6 or so inch slit at the top of the cart, was the only source of light and fresh air. As he approached the fading light he could see the faces of the people a little more clearly. Their eyes averted from his gaze – in fear of him? In shame? No…in an anxious doom. The crestfallen look of people who knew they were going to die.

When he got to the side of the cart with the ‘window’, if you could call it that, he rested his back against the wall of the cart and looked inwards at the mass of people. That’s when he noticed the white armband everyone was wearing. He instinctively looked at his arm and saw that he too was wearing one of these armbands. On the dirty white arm band there was a distinctive blue star of David. He was on a Holocaust train.

He looked around with a newfound feeling of panic. A wave of nausea gripped him as he recounted what happened at this horrendous time in history. His grandmother remembered the terror of what happened in Europe during the second world war because she lived through it. She made sure to tell the stories to her grandchildren. David listened in awe as a young child, but the true fear, the heart pounding stress of being trapped; that is something he did not understand until now. His breathing became fast and his hands started trembling as the realisations struck him one right after another.

The trains were bringing them to the ‘work camps’, but really, they were likely to be ushered into the gas chambers as soon as possible. He looked around and saw mothers holding their young children, their tired little heads bobbing along with the movement of the train across the tracks. They too would be unceremoniously thrown into the gas, but not before they were split up from their mothers. It was all so cruel and meaningless; the death, the sorrow, the loss of lives that had so much more to give.

David’s eyes welled up with tears. That’s when he noticed the young man standing next to him in the cramped cart. He was watching David closely. David looked over and quickly wiped the tears way with his sleeve. As he tried to still his trembling hands he said, “Can I help you with something?”

“Why are you sad?” The man asked outright.

“Why am I sad?” David scoffed. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe it’s the weather.” He added sarcastically.

“Yes. The weather is quite unforgiving today.” The man concluded after some thought.

David was annoyed. How could this man not see why he was distraught? Had it not dawned on him what was happening when the train got to it’s final destination?

“I’m sad…no devastated because of the tragedy of this” David said, pointing towards the crowded train car. “All this death, millions of lives. Just wasted. Killed. Children who have no idea why. Little ones who were never given a chance to live. It’s just so horrible”

“Yes. That is horrible.” The man agreed. “But there’s nothing you or I can do about it now. We are locked on this moving train. So what’s the use in stressing and spending your last moments shaking in fear?”

David was caught off guard at the matter-of-fact way that the man responded. As if his own impending death was not bothering him.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Muttered David. “If I could even only save one life somehow” he said wistfully.

“What about yourself David. Would you want to save yourself? Do you want to live?” The man asked. His voice seemed louder. Or perhaps the rest of the sounds in the train seemed softer, or rather muffled.

“I don’t want to die.” David said quietly. “I don’t want to die, but I also wish that no one else had to.”

“David.” The man said warmly.

David looked up in shock. How did the man know his name?

The man stood there smiling at him. His eyes shone with a golden honey light swirling in the last fading rays pushing through the cart window above their heads.

Before David could say anything, the train hit a bump in the tracks and sent everyone in the cart backwards. David felt a strong yank on his shirt collar from behind, and suddenly he was flat on his back on the hard ground with the wind knocked out of him.

He heard the train clicking a clacking across the rails.

He saw a figure leaning over him saying something he couldn’t quite make out.

It was hard to breathe. He could see the steam rising from his coughs into the cold morning air as he tried to inhale, but couldn’t without pain.

Then it all flooded back to him. The train station. The platform at Kipling. The GO train heading East. The rising sun.

The jump.

He was ready to do it. He had thought about it for some time.

The feeling of falling as he closed his eyes.

It would be quick. There was no turning back now.

Then all at once he was flat on his back on the cold concrete with the wind knocked out of him.

He knew it had been mere seconds, perhaps less, but it felt more like a lifetime.

He turned his head and saw the rising sun. The swirling ball of amber fire rose majestically. It’s rays shone down on David’s face and he felt warm, and for the first time in a very long time, he knew deep down in his heart that he wanted to live.