Blur

Throbbing. The throbbing. Light then dark then light then dark. Whoosh! Click, click, click. Whoosh! Click, click, click. Whoosh! Was she moving or was the world moving around her? She couldn’t tell. The throbbing was getting worse and she felt her bed shaking. “What’s going on?”, she rumbled to herself. “Is it another earthquake?” Slowly and heavily, she fluttered her eyes open as the world shook around her. Whoosh! Click, click, click. Light then dark then light then dark.

As her eyes began to focus, she realized this wasn’t her bed. This wasn’t her bedroom. She was moving. Her neck was aching from sleeping against the side of a lightly padded bench and a cold, hard window. Her head was throbbing and her mouth was dry. Her stomach began to turn and she quickly grabbed a small trash can next to the window and her insides cleared out the bile, over and over. She took a long breath, wiped her mouth with her long sleeve and mumbled aloud, “I’m so sorry,” then realized she was alone. With the throbbing slowing down, and her rational mind back to some semblance of normalcy, she acknowledged where she was. A train?! Her heart began to race as she fumbled through her memories trying to make sense of her situation. There was the afternoon lecture, then tea afterwards with a curious audience member and then, nothing.

Whoosh! Click Click click. Had she just left a station? It seemed that the train was speeding up as they flew by tree after tree. Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Click click click click.

She watched and searched through the thickening trees to determine where she was, eagerly seeking a familiar landmark or indicator as to what train she caught, from what station, and where she was heading. It was the countryside, but not a countryside familiar to her. Nothing seemed familiar, rather, a sort of dreamscape from an old novel or period film. She was parched and saw a large water bottle in the seat across from her with a label tied on around the long glass neck. She picked it up and turned over the label and, as though she were Alice in Wonderland. She read, “Drink me.” Her rational mind was screaming at her not to drink it, but her body ached for hydration, so she popped the old-fashioned flip top and drank and drank and drank, letting the cool water drip down the sides of her mouth and down her neck, moistening her shirt collar.

Looking around the berth, she noticed that she didn’t have her purse or any of her belongings. No phone, no suitcase, no books, no notebooks, no laptop, nothing except the water bottle. There was a small, dirty mirror above the train bench she was sitting on and she turned to check if there was any indication of a fight or struggle. She looked in the mirror and she looked fine. Her hair was slightly messy as would be expected from sleeping on a train, but otherwise, she was fine. No bruises, no sign of struggle anywhere. Drugged. She must have been drugged. She had no memory of anything. She brewed the tea, she poured the tea, she never put the cup down. That’s the last thing she could remember. Drinking tea with an odd audience member, who eagerly wanted to discuss her lecture topic further. That’s it. She seemed harmless enough. Just an old woman with an interest in her lecture.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! The train was definitely speeding up. The trees were coming closer and closer together. From the berth she was in, she could tell this wasn't a new train. This was old. The windows were thin and shaking with the speed. The floor and walls were creaking and vibrating more and more as the train sped up to near unnatural speeds.

Her heart began to race and panic finally set in. She stood up and managed her way to the door to slide it open. It squeaked angrily as she struggled to made her way out, into the narrow hallway. Holding on to the walls to keep herself steady, she made her way forward, in the direction the train seemed to be racing.

Click, click, click,click, click,click, click, silence, Crash!, click,click, click. The train had jumped slightly off of its track for a split second and crashed back into the track, continuing at its maddening pace forward. Her heart skipped and she let out a short scream.

She opened the door to the space between her car and the car in front of her, and the wind slapped her in the face with a bitter, unnatural cold. She stepped back and closed the door, catching her breath. It had been summer when she gave her lecture, how could it be so cold? The trees were green and the countryside was lush. It looked like late July. As she summoned up her courage to face the cold again, she saw a blanket hanging on a hook next to the door with yet another note attached. “Put me on.”

“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy!” She said to herself, “Wake up! This has got to be a dream!” She pinched herself and it hurt. What was that other dream tell, that she would use? Was there a light switch she could try out? No. She bit her lip to see if it would hurt. It did and she could taste the metallic blood in her mouth. It was real. This was really happening. She grabbed the heavy blanket and wrapped it around herself, then slid open the door again, and this time felt a warm breeze, no, a hot, late-July breeze against her face, and blowing her long hair.

She quickly stepped across to the next car and tried not to look down at the blur of ground beneath her. Opening the door, she stepped in and closed it behind her.

The passenger car was completely empty. Then it was black. The train was hurling through a tunnel. The roar of the clicks and shaking of the train through the paper thin windows was deafening and Lucy covered her ears until it was over, and the light flowed in yet again. Whoosh! Whoosh! Click, click, click. More trees. This was a forest now. A dense forest. As she tried to make out anything in the woods, she was reminded of a train ride from her childhood through the black forest in Germany. This was the same. Trees, more trees, then blackness.

The blanket was too hot now, and she dropped it to the floor. She held on to each seat as she continued forward. How did she get on this runaway train!? Compelled to get to the source of this, she finally made it through the wobbly car and to another sliding train door. Looking around for yet another wonderland-like note or tool or sign, she saw none. This time, as she stepped across the blur of tracks towards the next car, she only felt the darkness of the woods around her. Was that something in the trees?

Suddenly, she was pulled swiftly into the car by an arm she hadn't noticed before. The door was closed behind her. It was dark and still. There were no clicks or whooshes or shaking or vibrating windows and no engine sounds at all. The stillness was deafening and while she couldn’t make out a body, she knew she wasn’t alone.

She could make out a faint light from a window at the far end of the car and began feeling her way through, her shoes echoing in the silence. The seats in this car were covered in velvet and felt comforting and soft under her fingers. It smelled like fresh baked cinnamon rolls and brewed coffee, a faint scent of bacon and a hint of fresh outside air. She moved forward breathing in the space and opened the next door.

Whoosh! Click, click, click, click, click. Whoosh! The roar was louder than ever and the train was now clearly breaking away from it’s tracks, and hurdling forward. She felt a push from behind and the ground came at her like a giant wave.

“My dear, are you quite alright?” queried the woman across the café table, as she gingerly set down her teacup. “You seem to have slipped away for a moment.”

Lucy opened her eyes and stared. She set down the tea cup she was still holding and then sat back, into her chair. “I’m so sorry. I must have. I’m not really sure.”

“Now, tell me more. It seems to me that traveling across multiple universes is a bit far-fetched, don’t you think? I wonder what could have compelled you to explore such a subject.” The old lady smiled.