Derailment

Renata came to consciousness with ease, greeted only by a pleasant mechanical hum, interspersed by an occasional clicky-clack noise. For someone who had trouble falling asleep, it was always the repetitive and dull sound of machinery in motion that did the trick for her. Being seated on an airplane, lying in wait at her latest doctor's examination room. There was something about the quiet and coolness of the air in those spaces. The humming noises. And here too, she supposed, she hadn't had any difficulty slipping into her slumber. And once Renata was able to sleep, she slept.

But where was here now? She tried to take in her surroundings in the dark. Where had she managed to drift off? She was seated, as always, but not on her sofa at home (where she would often fall asleep to a movie she'd seen a thousand times, another one of her tricks). Now she found herself stationed atop a sterile blue not-uncomfortable-but-not-comfortable-seat with darker blue stripes. The same colour seat immediately in front of her. Movie theatre? No, too high. Everything was shadow, but adjacent to the empty seat next to her she could make out a set of soft curtains. She reached across and hoisted them back and a sheet of white light slapped across her face, sending a sharp pain across her brow. She looked away, clenched her eyes shut, and looked again. For half a second she caught a flash of her mother's face - sitting and reaching for her hand - then gone. Through the window a vista of clouded green hills, tall trees, and patches of lumpy chartreuse grass before them. She had no recollection of how she had gotten here, and more alarmingly now, the landscape was moving.

No. I'm moving. I'm on a vehicle that is moving. The clacking noise grew quicker in succession. Clackclack-clackclack-clackclack. She'd only been on a train once before in her life, as a child in the Philippines, enough to know she was on one now. How the hell?

My chair! Her eyes shot to her right, and though the light that came in through the window was now a dull slate grey, the relief of being able to make out her wheelchair parked in the aisle next to her eased her anxiety some. She reached out and touched it, and was pleased to see that whoever had put there had positioned it correctly. Or had she done it herself? She peered around the car as far as she could see. Rows and rows of shabby blue seats, yet the car was completely unpeopled. There were sets of instructions marked upon the back of the seats, decals on the windows, and pasted to the overhead bins. They were in a language she couldn't read. The pictures were vague.

Oh for f - sake! Had she been drugged? Was this her mother's doing? Trying to get her back to the Philippines to see family? She had been refusing for years. Tens of scenarios shot across her mind.

Clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack.

The train moved faster.

"Hello! Hey! Anyone around? I'm back here!"

And she was at the back of the train. At least this car, anyways. No answer. Dammit. She looked at her chair then and noticed the armrest separating her from the aisle. Please move up, she pleaded with it before attempting it. She jerked it back, but it wouldn't budge. She scrambled to find a release button. They always put them in impossible places to find. She probed with her fingers for several moments, to no avail. God damned cheap second-rate company. Stupid dull blue seats. Looks like I'm going to have to do this myself.

Clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack.

Renata shuffled her butt over closer to the armrest. Not my first rodeo, she thought. I wonder if I can clear it in a single jump? And though she often (and outwardly) complained in these situations, in actuality she enjoyed the challenge. It was a sense of accomplishment, and besides, it was just plain fun. She gripped the armrest with her right hand, placing her left on the seat next to her palm down, and in one deft motion was able to swing her butt up while simultaneously pushing off. She didn't clear it. Ohhh shit! She had come down hard - right on top of the armrest - and just then the train jerked violently and sent her legs in the opposite direction she had intended to go.

Fuuuu-

Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack

She teetered astride the armrest, her body swaying side to side with the motion of the train and her legs still and always refusing to obey. Indeed, her wayward legs only added to her predicament now as dead weight which pulled her this way and that. Shit sakes! She grabbed a firm hold of her wheelchair with her right hand, pulling it back to the angle she needed after all of the movement had forced it askew. But she was too high now for her other arm to be of any use, the seat being so low and with her still perched up higher on the armrest. Stupid train seats. She struggled to find a launch point. Wait. Legs first. She swept them up with her free left hand now and tossed them across her body with a grunt of annoyance.

Screw it. She leaned in far to her left with the idea of catapulting herself off of the seat, but then thought better. Instead, she tucked her left hand under her butt and used it to push off while simultaneously pulling herself over with her anchor hand. Plop. She landed squarely atop the soft air-filled cushion on her chair. She clutched her legs and set them properly within the narrow footrest. She breathed.

Clack-clack. Clack-clack. Clack-clack.

"Helloooo!"

She snapped her scissor-lock brakes open.

God dammit. With the patch of light still coming through the window she just could make out the door to the adjoining car up ahead. The aisles were wide enough to negotiate, though it was tighter than she would have liked. Nevertheless, Renata's wheelchair was streamlined and lightweight. It was no hospital chair, it was expensive and built to take punishment. The frame was constructed by a single piece of solid titanium and had quick-release wheels that could be popped off in a second and tossed into the trunk of a car or into any tight-fitting space. The weight of it and its trim width made her fast and maneuverable. She took another look out the window and scoured for any possible clue as to where she could be, now noting the rough hiking trails that cut into the sides of the hillocks, winding and rising and disappearing into the trees beyond. She started forward, and the thick stained carpeting of the train floor did not help her progress.

She wheeled, and as she predicted her legs began to protest at the resistance; the sudden movement after what may have been hours of sitting dormant. Spasms. Her right quadricep fired, kicking her foot out just as her left hamstring cramped, drawing that knee up, both of her legs now convulsing in fitful jerking motions. And this was the worst of scenarios when it came to spasticity. The stupid dance her body did as she tried to negotiate difficult terrain. Sometimes they were slow tremors and shakes, her legs bobbing up and down like a dancer quietly trying to keep a beat, but now they were full-on kicking, and she was a wild seated soccer player without a ball. Worse, her torso set to rocking with each wrenching spasm, and it was painful. Her right foot shot out again now, catching the edge of a seat as she passed and she lurched and smacked her knuckles on another armrest, sending her glasses flying off her face.

"Fuck!" Not now pleeeease.

Clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clack-clack.

The engine of the train came alive again.

That feeling when your body betrays you. She looked at her legs with disdain, only noticing now that she was wearing her light blue Levis and black and white Converse low tops. Great for style, but neither of them ideal for travel. The light blue would only visibly stain from the inevitable and oft-times that she spilled or dropped bits of food straight into her lap, and the shoes were well-worn at the bottom and did not grip well enough to her footrest. She didn't remember dressing for the day, but was convinced that she would have not chosen this outfit for what was sure to be a bumpy train ride. At least she had on her blue flannel. She collected her glasses off of her lap and reached back into her backpack to retrieve her meds. Two doses of baclofen would calm the legs. She took a couple of drops of CBD oil just for good measure and felt them subside almost immediately. She took inventory of her backpack then: meds, check. Toiletries and catheters, check (thank God). Large bottle of water. Empty Gatorade bottle. She realized she did not have her phone. Whatever. And in that sense, Renata wasn't typical of her age group. She imagined there would be no Wi-Fi or any way to call someone regardless. She moved forward and reached the blue door that connected to the next car. Please be passable.

Anticipating the weight of it, she wrenched the door back with her right arm while using her left to swing her chair back and out of the way. Using the momentum of that motion she slung her chair forward and came into the adjoining car.

People! There were only three, all seated separately on the same drab blue fabric seats. She rolled forward and pulled up to the closest, a rotund white man in the forties who sat reading...a newspaper?

"Hi! Sir. Sorry to bother you-"

"Yes?"

The man turned to her. He had a sharp-beaked nose with jowls jutting out from under his cheeks like a couple of lumps of suman.

"I know this sounds strange, but can you tell me where we are going? Or where we are?"

"Do you need help?" His accent was strongly American.

"Uh, well yeah. I don't know what happened - I think I blacked out or something - but I honestly have no idea where I am right now...or where this train is going."

The man regarded her for a moment, and then gently folded his newspaper and placed it in the pouch in front of him.

"So, do you need me to push you?"

"What? No...I need to know where I am."

"Oh, sorry. Just trying to help." And the man looked rebuffed.

"I just want to know where I'm going. And what's going on here."

"Can't do anything right these days I guess."

He reached back for his newspaper.

"What?"

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

Renata sensed what was coming.

"What?"

"What happened to you?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

She was in no mood.

"Nooo you know...how did you..." he motioned to her legs.

"It's not really important is it?"

"Jesus. Just asking. By the way, I have to say - "

"What?"

"You're English is very good!"

Oh God. Renata moved on. Of course the first person I encounter is a complete nut job.

"Hiii."

She came to a younger Asian woman, which helped put her at ease.

"Oh! Hi! Are you okay?" The woman was munching on a blueberry muffin and staring at the back of her seat.

"Um, I am most definitely not. Look, I need to know what the hell is going on. I know this is weird but I really have no idea where I am and where this train is going. And I know it's weird but I'm ser-"

"Seriously though, are you okay? Don't you have someone to help you?"

The woman wrapped up the rest of her muffin and quickly put it into her handbag. She looked around for what Renata could only guess would be some sort of escort or attendant.

"What? No. I travel by myself. I just want to know where I am! Can you please just tell me what is going on? What is this train??"

"That's amazing. You are really inspiring."

"Can you please. Just tell me. Where I am."

"But who takes care of you?"

"No one - I take care of me! What the -?"

"I have a friend who's in a wheelchair. He's such a good person. Good guy. I think he was born that way? I don't exactly know, and I'm too shy to ask him but...what happened to you?"

Get the hell out of my face.

Clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack.

Renata glanced beyond the woman and out the window and caught an entirely different bright and sunny world outside now. Sandy beaches and cerulean waters. And what was this fresh nonsense? She craned her neck to the opposite window and regarded four sets of train tracks, and then the edge of where the sand dissipated onto a flat field of tall, roughshod grass and high, twisted rheumatic trees with gigantic roots protruding from the ground. Gone were the mountains and hiking trails. The last person, just ahead, was an ancient-looking white woman with steel for hair. Renata gave the younger girl next to her one last chance.

"Seriously, can you please explain to me what is going on here?"

"I really admire your courage."

"It was the same accident that killed my father, are you happy?" Renata said it.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"In some stupid country too! Where I do not want to go back."

The girl blushed full-on crimson.

"Where?" she asked, sheepishly.

"Where I was born."

"Where's that?"

"Where were you born?" Renata served back.

"Well, here, but I'm -"

"I don't care."

Clackclack- clackclack- clackclack-clackclack-clackclack.

Renata rolled her eyes and left this fool. She approached the old woman, whose eyes were closed and mouth agape as she snoozed. Renata tapped her lightly on the forearm.

"Hi auntie. Helloo."

The woman blinked herself awake, and as her eyes fluttered Renata could see the opaque sheet that covered them. She was blind.

"Hello! I'm sorry, I must have drifted off!"

"Oh, that's okay. Look, um. This might sound strange..."

Renata repeated the same pleas she had given the previous passengers.

"Do you know what? I can't for the life of me recall why I'm here either!"

The woman's white sheet eyes stared past Renata. Still, she smiled.

"What?"

"Who are you?"

"Well, my name is Renata -"

"Oh, that's such a pretty name."

"Oh, well, ah, thanks-"

"But what am doing here? What on earth is going on?"

Oh God. Is this some social experiment? Like that documentary about the prisoners?

"Okay, auntie, just wait. I'm going to the next car to get help. Or something."

"Thank you, dear. It looks like I could use some assistance!" The old woman chuckled, embarrassed and anxious.

"I don't - yes. Happy to. I'll be right back."

"Thank you, Renata."

Her head spinning, Renata saw the door to the next car straight ahead, and as she approached it the Asian woman jumped up from her seat and trotted toward it to open it for Renata.

"DON'T...worry."

Renata held her arm up and the woman shrank back to her seat.

"She don't like that."

The rotund man called from the back. And Renata wondered which one of the two Asian woman he was talking about.

"Sorry," Renata said, "I can do it fine."

Knowing what she was dealing with now, Renata flung the door open with one motion and scooted through it without trouble. She found herself in the dining car now, packed with bodies and high chatter. The clink of glasses and cutlery on plates. Stupefied, she didn't know how to react at first. More bizarre, all of the tables were high-tops, and Renata wondered why the hell they would do that on a train. The door thumped closed behind her.

"Hi!"

She caught the eye of a woman facing her two tables back.

"Oh my God!"

And heads turned to scrutinize her now.

Clack-clack. Clack-clack. Clack-clack. Clack-clack.

"Hey," Renata addressed her audience, "there's a woman who needs help back here and -"

"How did you get here?" A man asked.

"Uh, well that's the thing. I don't know."

And then she felt it. The tightness and the pressure in her legs, the hard tingle rising up and into the pit of her groin. Her right foot shot out again and her shoe flipped off and tumbled into the aisle. Her left knee came up and could have kicked her in the chin.

"Dammit!"

"Woah, are you okay?" someone said.

She had to pee. She reached down and grasped at her ankle to see if her leg bag was attached. There is no scenario where I wouldn't attach my leg bag for a long trip. It wasn't there.

"Yeah. I'm fine. But, uh, shit. Where's the bathroom?"

"It's back there."

Renata looked at the jungle of chairs before her, the washroom sign at the other end of the car.

Clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack.

The train blazed ahead and Renata's body swayed like she was on a roller coaster and was almost lifted from her chair. The people didn't seem to notice at all, they were fixated on her. She grabbed the closest chair by its leg and thrust it out of her way and it hit the table next to it with a thunk.

"Hey! Let me help you!"

"Whatever."

She squeezed past the chair, and now slightly pinned between it and another, she pushed through the bind with a snap, launching and tilting it back and onto the floor.

"Woah!"

A swarm of bodies descended towards her while the remaining lookers-on set to picking up their chairs and clearing the aisle. She made it to her shoe and reached for it, collecting it from the floor and snatching it away from a woman bending to get it for her. And then she was thrust forward.

"What the hell are you doing??"

Renata snarled at another woman behind her, who had taken it upon herself to push her chair unannounced.

"Helping you!"

"Stop!"

Renata's legs jerked all at once again as the train hit another burst of speed and her foot caught under her footrest as the woman shoved her along.

"I said STOP!"

"No, no, I don't mind at all! I'm happy to hel-"

Renata pitched forward, her foot still caught beneath her. She wobbled another half second before tipping right over and finding herself floundering on the floor. At least she landed with her elbows out and not right on her face. Her glasses stayed on this time.

"GOD DAMMIT. Don't touch someone without their permission!"

The car let out a collective gasp.

Clackclack-clackclack-clackclack-clackclack.

"I'm okay, the floor isn't made of lava!"

She immediately inspected her jeans for a wet stain. It was clear, but she knew it was only minutes away. And then she felt arms and hands on her body.

Screeeeeeeeeech.

The aged wheels of the train laboured as it careened on at an even faster pace.

"What did I just say? DON'T touch me!"

And she actually slapped a hand that was about to extend under her armpit. It withered away, and the rest of the bodies backed off. Renata collected herself. She breathed. She clasped the leg of one of the restaurant chairs and pulled herself upright. Reeling, she held the chair fast and pulled her chair back to her with her other arm before it could roll away. She snapped the scissor brake on. She hauled her legs up to her chest, one by one, still as they spasmed. She reached up and placed her palm on the seat of the non-wheeled restaurant chair, her other on her chair, and pushed herself up with all her force, wresting her body up into the air and then back down onto her cushion. Plop. She was seated again.

"Fantastic!"

"Amazing!"

"Yeah yeah."

She was proud though. And her jeans remained unstained yet still. Renata snapped her brakes off and bolted for the bathroom - her path now clear - while the barricade of bodies darted out of her way, giving her some satisfaction. The whole world needs to get out of my way. She reached the door. And of course it was too narrow for her to enter.

"This is a fucking nightmare."

"Do you need -"

"No! I just need some privacy. Can you all just turn away?"

"But how do you...I mean how are you going to -"

They gathered around in curiosity. The train bellowed it's horn.

"Just give me some privacy please!" Renata flung the bathroom door open and saw the toilet before her.

The passengers complied, turning around, and Renata fumbled with the zipper on her backpack to retrieve her catheter and an empty Gatorade bottle. She set the bottle on the floor and the single-use catheter (still in its packaging) on her lap and undid her pants, pushing herself up and into a mini-hop while tugging her pants down to her thighs at the same time. She caught the catheter before it slipped away and tore away the packaging, just as the empty Gatorade bottle tipped and started to roll from the increased speed of the train.

You will not pee your pants.

Clackclackclackclackclackclackclackclackclackclackclackclackclack.

"Aaaaach!"

She howled and bent over, catching the bottle just before it rolled off and out of reach. She placed it between her legs. She slipped her underwear to the side and inserted the catheter (got it on the first try!) and felt the wave of relief as the bottle filled.

Clack-clack. Clack-clack.

"Can I ask you something?"

A male voice came in behind her, far enough away, and she hoped he at least wasn't hovering over her trying to see.

"Now? I'm kind of busy here."

"What happened to you?"

"What happened to you?" Renata shot back.

"I mean, how did you get into the wheelchair?"

"Didn't you see me just now?"

"It's just that... you are so pretty. So young. It's... sad."

"Is it now?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Yes, everyone is sorry." Renata sighed.

She finished up and dumped her pee down the toilet and wrapped up her used catheter and placed it back in its pouch in case she needed it later. Better safe than. Her leg shot up again, kicking the rim of the toilet and bringing down the seat with a crack. Haha! She sensed the mood in the room. They were uncomfortable. They were scared of her. Good. She had done it before.

She wheeled around to face her bathroom interrogator. And he was at least facing away from her.

"Can I ask you something?" It was Renata's turn now.

"Yes..." he turned, his face flushed.

"Where are we? What is this train? Where are we going?"

"I...was hoping you could tell us," he shrugged, looking lost.

"Okay, next question: why is it that everyone wants to help me all the time and yet no one can help me with what I really need?"

The man stared. Renata looked past him to the others in the car, all standing now with dumbfounded expressions on their face. The jowly man and the young Asian woman and the old blind woman had joined them. They stared at her. It was then that she noticed the new surroundings whizzing past out the windows. And she recognized it. It was Manilla. And they were racing through the street now in the middle of the city. Giant curbs without depressions. Cobblestoned or otherwise broken walkways and pavement. Telephone poles jutting out from the middle of the sidewalks. An endless wave of motorcycles and small belching cars flanking them. It was pouring rain. Stairs. Stairs. Stairs. The people stared.

"I need...I need..."

Clackclack-clackclack-clacklack-clackclack-clackclack-KA-CHUNK!

And the people screamed.

The wheels screeched, the gears in the bowels of the train beneath them strained, then popped, then whined, and the car began to rattle and shake with fury. A horrible metallic crunching noise came from the cars behind them, which Renata guessed could only be one or all of them tearing away from the head of the train. Plates and cutlery bounced off of the tables and clattered to the carpet. Glasses shattered and littered the floor with spiky, glistening shards. Renata spun around fast, making for the next door and once again flinging one open, now revealing a small gap of space and the hard earth before her speeding below. There was a gap between the car that separated her from a man in a tidy trim blue suit. The man was entirely focused on the murky white panorama ahead of him and the coloured buttons on the control panels before him. A glistening wet sheet slick across his forehead. The head of the train. The driver's compartment. The conductor.

"Sir!"

The man turned, and she recognized the unmistakable visage of her father.

"Girl!

Her father bellowed across the din. And the earth below and between them raced in a blur of brown and grey. The gap was small, but still too wide for her to jump her chair across.

"Girl! Hey. What are you doing here?"

She looked at her father with his open face, his creased forehead, graying temples protruding from the side of his cap. His eyes were always wet.

"Dad."

"What, girl?"

"Dad, where...are we? What is this train?"

"You know."

"I -"

"You know."

"Dad."

"What girl?"

"Dad -"

"What girl? Spit it out."

"I...I need help."

And tears rolled down Renata's cheeks.

"Of course girl. Just tell me what you need. I'm here. But tell me. Why are you so angry? You're stressing me out!"

Clack-clack. Clack-clack. Clack-clack.

Clack.

"I'm always angry," Renata replied.