Forward

“Excuse me? I believe this is my stop.”

The voice was old, feminine, and strong. The strength that enveloped each word sounded fresh and bright, like a light bulb being flicked to life for the first time.

Vicktor opened his eyes and turned towards the source of the request. An elderly woman was sitting immediately to his left. “Would you mind letting me out?”

On impulse, Vicktor reached up and grabbed hold of a smooth, leather loop that hung from a polished chrome bar that was suspended tightly to the ceiling. In a quick, deliberate movement he was up, standing in the aisle of a moving train car. He felt light and limber, a sensation that struck him as odd, given that his last memory was of intense, fire-inducing pain.

The woman stood, smiled at Vicktor, and walked towards a set of doors at the right side front of the train car. She was old with dense gray hair hanging down the center of her back in a tight, immaculate braid. The lines on her wrinkled face seemed to smoothen as they approached her thin, smiling lips. Despite the gentle jostling, clicking, and unpredictable swaying of the train, the woman walked straight to the door, her hands clasped gently infront of her.

The sound of a muted, two note chime briefly cut through the clacking sound of the train’s wheels as the doors opened. The train rumbled ahead.

“Wait!” Vicktor screamed a wet, panicked yell as the woman stepped through the opened doors into darkness.

The door closed. Vicktor was alone.

He ran towards the window on the right side of the train where the woman had exited. A luscious, green forest, lit with streaks of orange amber light that chaotically broke through the unseen tree tops whisked past the window as the train continued forward. The forest floor was thick with ferns and young trees eager to rise to their place in this world. Vicktor took in the scene for another moment, and then, as if the train had entered a tunnel, the world outside went black.

Vicktor stepped backwards and collapsed into his original seat. Although the sense of horror he had felt was only seconds old, his heart was beating calmly in his chest. He swallowed a deep, refreshing breath and surveyed his surroundings.

The train car appeared to be new, yet the elaborate furnishings suggested it came from a different era. The windows were framed with thick, beautiful wooden borders that were stained a shiny, earthen brown. The wooden grain lines were such a deep, charcoal black that they seemed to feed inwards towards an infinite depth.

The seats were orange brown with the shine of new leather, yet they exuded the comfort of a well worn armchair. The metal outlining each chair and the rails across the ceiling was smooth and cool to the touch. The only sound was the gentle clicking of the train as it pulled forward.

Vicktor reached up cautiously and touched the left side of his head. The last time he had completed this motion his fingers had returned covered in thick, dripping blood that was speckled with shards of tempered glass.

This time, all he felt was the dry gentle prickle of his closely shaved head. No blood. No pain.

His physical memories were leaving him as quickly as they came. While he had an idea of the pain he had experienced, he no longer felt it. It was more of a memory he had heard of, not one he experienced.

Vicktor looked out the window. The darkness began to lighten, and in a whitening flash, it gave way to a new scene.

The forest was gone. In its place was an empty, pristine beach. A gentle surf was pushing crystal blue waves onto the white shores. The water momentarily transformed into thin, bubbly foam, only to fade back into the clear water from where it began.

Bookending each side of the beach were spiraling rock formations that appeared to be forced skyward from the sea. Behind the beach, towering palm trees provided intermittent shade from the cloudless sky.

“I never pegged you for a beach guy.”

Vicktor spun towards the voice. A young boy, maybe 12 years old, was sitting a few rows in front of him, his back facing the forward momentum of the train.

Shocked by the sudden appearance of this child, Vicktor was even more surprised to see that he was now in a completely different train car. Vicktor was sitting on a hard, narrow chair made of industrial plastic. Narrow strips of LED lights ran across the top of the train in a race of parallel light. The windows were larger and lined with a dark black rubber. The seats were in groups of four, with two seats facing another set of two. The floor was clean, yet worn smooth from years of repetition. He was on a commuter train. It continued to move forward.

Vicktor peered at the boy, recognition suddenly filling the clouded void in his head. “Bbb..Brian?”

The boy, now completing a picture in Vicktor’s mind, was his middle school best friend Brian Gerity. Brian and his family had moved to Hong Kong when the boys were in the 7th grade. While they attempted to stay in touch for a few years, Victor hadn’t seen or heard from Brian in nearly 15 years.

“Brian?” The boy glanced down at himself, then back at Vicktor, a puzzled look spreading across his face. “Hmm…usually I can figure this out. I don’t think I’m your son. You don’t seem old enough. And given my…attire…this feels like more of an older memory.” He looked out the window, his voice trailing in a soft mumble. “Strange.”

The attire was an interesting point. Brian’s finger nails were painted black. He was wearing absurdly baggy black jeans that punched out at the shins like a tent, almost completely obscuring his scuffed black and white Chuck Taylor’s. He was wearing a black Slipknot t-shirt over a black long sleeve shirt. A black leather bracelet with silver plastic spikes on his right wrist completed the macabre ensemble.

“How…?” Ideas were forming in Vicktor’s head. “Where are…? Why are you still…?” His clouded thoughts showed no sign of clearing.

“Well,” The boy sprung to his feet, unaffected by the swaying of the train. “You are in a place designed to, let’s say…ease your transition. There are three components that we found speed this up a bit and make it easier to understand. Familiarity. A Cherished Location. And Trust.” The boy raised a thumb and two fingers, each one flicking to attention as he spoke one of the three points.

Vicktor blinked. Despite the situation, his presence on this train was soothing. He had taken a train into work, twice a day every day, for almost 7 years. He knew every inch of it. Sat in every seat.

He looked back out the window. The sun was high over the water and a light breeze jostled the tops of the palm trees, creating an unpredictable, yet enjoyable sensation as the massive branches danced in rhythm with the sea.

He looked back at Brian. His best friend, basically his only friend, through the most challenging years of teenhood. They had learned together. Hurt together. And then he left. Although he conquered teendom without him, Brian had always remained an anchor for Vicktor. A beacon of potential.

Despite the concoction of questions brewing in his brain, he selected one in particular to ask. “When is my stop?”

The boy smiled. “That’s up to you. Take your time.” He sat back down and stared out the window. He appeared to genuinely admire the landscape.

The train continued to move forward. Steady. The sways and bumps were becoming easier to understand. Vicktor looked forward, towards the doors at the front of the car. He thought for a moment and remembered his last conversation with Brian before they grew apart. It was a letter attached to a package. The package was covered in strange writing and stamped with faded green symbols. Vicktor had quickly opened it and found a black t-shirt with a familiar symbol, yet unfamiliar words. The note had only one sentence on it. “Enjoy the past, yet experience what’s next.”

Vicktor laughed slightly to himself and stood up. He walked smoothly towards the front of the train, exchanging knowing nods with the boy as he glided by. The gentle sound of the train’s chime entered the space. The doors opened, and Vicktor stepped forward.