Fate Train

Sarah smelt ammonia. The putrid aroma tickled her nose as she jostled her body onto its opposite side, frustrated that the harsh smell was disturbing her sleep. This blissful nap was the best rest she’d had in months, years even. Facing a different direction, the smell abated and slowly she was rocked into another REM cycle. The inertia of back and forth was constant beneath her. The movement was so soothing, it was an invitation into total relaxation. Sarah wasn’t ready to wake up. The last few weeks had been nothing short of exhausting.

The corner of her mouth turned upwards as she pictured Ryan’s beautiful face. Handsome and kind, her husband of three years was the love of her life. She was sure of it. He was hers. Before Ryan her life was different. Now they had goals, chased dreams together. One day, they’d own a farmhouse in the country. Somewhere to call home, a place to watch the sunrise kiss the horizon. They argued about whether they could raise cattle. She was sure they could. He was not convinced.

Ryan was far from perfect, but the damaged man loved her the same. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. Nothing made sense without Ryan’s infectious laughter. He was her problem solver, the reason she woke up every day. Without him in her life, meaning evaporated. The sun would have no light, the trees would bear no shade, the oceans would be reduced to shallow pools.

Ryan was her whole life. Their bond was absolute. Nothing could change that. Yet, she didn’t feel the weight of his arm draped around her waist as she slept.

Sarah twitched as a chill touched her body. Ice enveloped her. The coldness was bitter, achingly so. It started at her toes and inched its way up her legs, her stomach, over her chest. She shivered as she cradled her arms around herself, seeking warmth. Her body had no heat but her heart rate was increasing. Something was wrong. The coldness of her limbs enticed her to open one eye.

A fluorescent bulb flickered overhead as its buzzing noise interrupted the quiet that engulfed her. Sarah sat up, dazed. She touched the plastic seat, marveling that she had not been lying flat. Her quality of slumber would indicate that she had been in the luxury of a five-star hotel. But no, she was upright in a double seat. Her eyes searched the dilapidated railcar. Its seafoam green walls were decorated with graffiti.

Sarah’s memory was hazy. She rubbed her temple as her body groaned. She ached all over. Exhaling her breath, she was able to calm herself enough to process the situation. She was on a train, a fast-moving train. It must be nighttime, outside the window it was dark. Sarah couldn’t see any landmarks. As she looked around the car, she realized no one else was on board. She was alone.

“Hello?” She called out into the silence. The fluorescent light fixture flickered in response.

Sarah felt nauseous, the ebb and flow of the train was not lulling her into relaxation now. She felt like she might vomit.

“Hello,” She called out again, biting her lower lip. She couldn’t remember how she got here. Why was she on the train? Where was Ryan? Maybe I have amnesia, she thought. But she wouldn’t remember her husband if she lost her memory, would she? She frantically searched her jean pockets but came up empty. No train ticket stub. Her spare house key was also missing from her front pocket. Her memory sparked her subconscious in tidbits. She remembered Ryan putting on his helmet. They were outside, the fall air was crisp as they laughed at some joke. Ryan had suggested it was a good day to ride the bikes, see the changing of the leaves. That’s it! She had been on the motorcycle with Ryan! She was sure of it. Just as she always had that housekey on her when they went for a motorcycle ride. Sarah always carried some cash, the housekey, both her and Ryan’s driver’s license. Now her pockets were empty.

On the verge of panic, Sarah tried to stand. The railcar shifted forward faster and buckled her knees, keeping her in her seat.

“Mrs. Murphy,” a voice loomed as it crackled through the train’s speaker in the wall. “Welcome. It’s our pleasure to take you to your destination.”

Sarah swallowed hard, as she gripped the back of the empty seat in front of her. The voice called her by name. “Where am I? Am I dead?” She called out into the void as the train sped faster.

The speaker cracked, there was some skuttle noise.

“If you would direct your attention out the window of the right side of the train,” the voice said.

Sarah sat open mouthed. The landscape out the right side of the train flickered in the corners, like an old silent movie. The image populated, pixel by pixel it played a scene. One of Sarah opening Christmas gifts when she was nine, laughing with her parents in front of the tree. Sarah watched in awe as she opened a baby doll. She remembered this Christmas. Sarah’s little sister started to cry. Sarah handed the new toy to her baby sister, instantly making her sister happy.

“On the right side, memories of good deeds of your life will play,” the voice announced. “However, on the left side, memories of dismal deeds of your life will play. Right or left. Whichever side is greater determines your direction from here. More right memories mean you get other chances. More left memories mean you’ll be, well, left. It’s simple really. Everyone has a right and left side,” the voice said. “Now you know why their named that way,” the voice added.

Sarah was in shock. So, this was it? Was the afterlife really that simple? You’re either left or you’re right?

“It’s that simple,” the voice replied to the question in Sarah’s mind. “After your, what did you call it, movie plays, the train will merge left or right. The direction has already been decided by your deeds.”

Sarah gulped for air; her lungs tired. If she could just go back, she would do many things differently.

“That’s what everyone thinks. Enjoy your movie, Sarah Murphy,” the voice said as the speaker crackled.

It was the hardest thing Sarah had ever done, turning her attention to the left side of the train.

The image was already playing, again one from her early years. Sarah was playing softball. When she was up to bat the pitcher accidentally threw the ball and hit her in the leg. The ball landed with such a force; Sarah felt the pain in her thigh again. Sarah slung the baseball bat at the girl, hitting her in the head. The pitcher had two teeth knocked out from her bat.

Sarah had blocked this memory, even though she wore a bruise for weeks. It was the reason she quit playing sports. Her temper made her a hothead teenager.

On the right side of the train, another memory was in motion. This one featured an older Sarah at her high school graduation ceremony. The valedictorian was leaving the restroom before the service began and Sarah stepped on the toilet paper train stuck to the smart girl’s foot. This made Sarah smile and exhale her held breath.

Each memory represented a time in Sarah’s life, the beginning, the middle, and now the end.

The memories played fast. Each a reminder of a little girl lost. A little girl found.

The left side of the train showed an adult Sarah stealing a pack of cigarettes from the corner store. Sarah never smoked. It had been a dare. Not that the reasoning mattered now.

The right side of the train played the image of Sarah serving food at the homeless shelter. That Thanksgiving was right after her parents died. She had been alone, felt so isolated. The sadness from that period filled her heart again.

The left side of the train featured Sarah copying the test results of her classmate in college. Psychology class. Sarah had earned a C- grade.

As the memories played, some on the left side of the train, some on the right side, Sarah kept her composure. It was a humbling experience, seeing the meaningful moments play out again. The curses and the blessings, one by one, played to determine her fate. Sarah wished for many do-overs, she had so much regret. It was disheartening, to have such acuity when it no longer mattered.

Sarah gasped as she looked out the right window. The image was one of Sarah sprawled on the bed in the apartment she shared with Ryan. She stared into the image of her own bloodshot eyes. Her crying sobs made her inconsolable. Ryan brought her chipped ice as he tried to sooth her.

This memory was only a few months ago. She had miscarried, again. She vowed that she would not go through this ever, ever again. Ryan’s face fell when she told him that. His eyes darted back and forth, pleaded with her to keep their options open…she accused him of being the problem.

Sarah sat on the train as she watched the scene playout. It was gut-wrenching to watch. She felt as though she was ripped open, to hurt in such a way and be oblivious to cause further pain. And of all people, her vicious words were slurred toward the one she loved the most. Ryan.

Why is this memory on the good deeds side? The right side? Sarah thought.

The train speaker crackled as the voice explained. “Love is always right. Loss of love, it’s right too. If you love, you have heart. Even when you hurt, you wish for love. It’s confusing, yes?”

“Not my finest moment,” Sarah said as she sniffled. “Can you tell me where my husband is?”

The speaker crackled as the window out the right side of the train went dark.

The left side of the train played the memory of Ryan and Sarah riding the motorcycle. She had her head laid on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist as they rode. A smile decorated her lips in contentment. The sky was the prettiest color of blue, not a cloud in the sky. Sarah looked down at her shirt, she was wearing the same clothes. This was from earlier today.

“Oh God,” Sarah whispered as the image pulsed her memory.

They were riding the motorcycle on a four-lane highway with an intersection up ahead. Sarah could see the green light, nudged Ryan to slow down. ‘We can make it,’ he replied as he revved the bike. But he was not fast enough. As they passed the middle of the intersection the light changed from yellow to red. The car struck the motorcycle’s front wheel, slinging Sarah headfirst into the weeds of the right of way.

Sarah covered her mouth with her hands. She sat on the train alone. The image out the left window of the train was focused on her lying motionless on her back in the grass, her helmet on. The image was clipped, as though Ryan’s fate was undecided.

An ambulance arrived. Sarah watched what she didn’t remember happening. The EMT’s examined her, determined she was still breathing. They applied smelling salts under her nose. But to their dismay her eyes stayed squeezed closed. One of the paramedics said she had burns or road rash all over the legs. They applied a cooling blanket and whisked her into the ambulance. Sarah noticed her mouth was upturned, as though she was dreaming.

The image on the left side of the train fades to black. The train continues on its course.

“What happened to Ryan? Is he ok? Did he survive?”

The speakers are silent as the train picks up speed. Then there’s a crackling noise and an image lit up on the right side of the train.

“Do you see it?” The voice asked. Out the right window, Sarah saw the horizon. An old farmhouse silhouette was black against the orange light of the sunset. She could see Ryan, walking towards the train.

Sarah began to cry. “I see it,” Sarah whispers, hoping the train veers to the right.

The speaker crackles again. This time the last. “Enjoy your movie, Mrs. Murphy.”

The train speeds up faster again as the fluorescent lights flicker off. In the darkness Sarah feels the train continue to move straight. What does this mean?

The fluorescent lights flicker again. Sarah’s body feels warm. There’s a humming sound. Sarah opens her eyes. Ryan’s blurry face is the first thing she sees. The air is static with machines buzzing. She tries to sit up in the hospital bed.

“You scared me,” Ryan says as he takes her hand in his. He has one arm bound in a sling. “Let me get the doctor,” he says, releasing her momentarily as he presses the call button on the remote.

Ryan takes Sarah’s hand again, vows not to let go this time.

“You won’t believe it. I learned so much,” Sarah says, her voice crackles underneath the fluorescent lights.

Ryan laughs. “Oh, we’ve learned a lot here too,” he says, his smile wide. Sarah crinkles her nose but even that hurts.

“You’ve got some burns on your legs, but the doctors assure me you’ll heal,” Ryan says. Sarah nods in agreement.

“They’ve done all kinds of tests,” he says. “We won’t be riding the bike again for a good while. You’re pregnant,” He blurts out, the excitement in his voice is contagious.

Sarah begins to cry. “This is definitely a right-side train memory,” she whispers as Ryan narrows his eyes.

“I’ll tell you all about it, one day.”