Reminiscing

“Hey Rockefeller” A slinky, blond woman, who looks vaguely familiar, slides her red nail along the seem on my shoulder. I could feel myself coming too, blinking my eyes to gain traction of what’s going on around me. The gleam of the passing tunnel lights strobed off the polished stainless steel roof in the back of the train car.

“ Your alright honey. Sit tight. But I do need you to take a sip of this or you’ll have an awful hard time during the decent.” Giggling a little bit, she bent down and grabbed my hand, turning it upward, exposing my palm. She then lifted a finger as she turned away to grab something off the cart next to her, as if to tell me not to move. So I obliged. I gazed emptily into my open palm, unaware of what to think. As she set the small crystal glass into my gaze, a sudden question came about. Why am I here?

She tapped the side of the immaculate crystal, “Just a little sip.”

“ Wha- What is this?” I stammer, still fixated on the cup.

“ Mystic Brandy baby. A little something to take the edge off.”

“ Where am I?” I ask, Looking up and into her amber eyes.

“ You’ll know where you are.”

She flashed a quick, white smile and turned away. On to the next one. I took the cup from my left hand and took a swig. Im not usually one to turn down a free drink from a beautiful woman. Ice cold and smooth as Dream. But in an instant my eyes dilated, my heart started to race and then my stomach ran into my heart. We had begun the decent.

The once strobing lights became a pure streak of white too bright to look at. The tunnel seemed to be vertical in nature. Challenging gravity to a duel of fates. Again I ask, “Why am I here?” One minute i’m slouched in my vintage Welsh leather chair and then I blink and here is where I wake? Still in my suit. Still in my shoes. Still in my head? I keep expecting for the unsettlingly long decent to end, but still it hasn’t yet. I assume this must be a nightmare. I don’t mind horror films. There is something fascinating about the point of view of the dark. But I don’t know how I feel to be in one myself. Who am I here? Am I a transgressor? A savior? Am I doomed to a terrible fate? Where could we be going?

I learned this once, that when you don’t know your next move, you sit tight and wait for the next thing to move you. So thats what I did. I Just sat. An now I’ve been sitting for what seems like hours. Running scenarios through my mind of what the hell this could possibly be. It isn’t awful, the experience, but it isn’t pleasant either. I keep deciding that i’d rather not be here. But I don’t have much of a choice. Im too afraid to remove the strap that is holding me down and too comfortable with the safety of staying where I am. This could end at any second or it could go on for years. There is nothing here to indicate what it is I’m going through. All I can think about is my future and if I will have one at all. If this is a dream will I wake from it? Is this the decent to the river styx? A vehicle to a new life? I have to close my eyes.

Back in my chair now. A flash of my life in my minds eye. I remember wishing to disappear for a while right before I blinked. Although I don’t exactly know why because my life is not all that bad. I am grateful for my friends and I get to be there for my old man. Im in a stable position and my home is clean. Sure, not everything is perfect, but nothing can be. But when I go home I sit down in my chair and go through waves of self doubt. Sinking into a spiral of too many thoughts about where I am going and all that I had to leave behind. So I take some time and close my eyes.

My anxiety starts to take over as I find myself back where I was before. Brandy in hand, I take another swig. Why do I think this will help me? Feeling a little more pressure now to take fate into my own hands. To be released from this never-ending illusion. I unstrapped myself from the red bench seat where I had sat for so long and stood. Surprisingly I’m still on the floor and not flat against the roof of the train car. Now willing to get up to find answers to any question I may have. What I really want to know is where we are going. And how can I get off?

I start to shuffle my hands around in the pockets of my pinstriped khaki pants searching for a clue. Searching for a ticket or something. Anything to wake me from this state. Without luck, I bring my hands in front of me and stare bewildered into my empty palms. Its time to move on. Making my way down to the front of this glamorous tin can, I cant help but take in the amount of familiar faces as I pass each seat. Thirteen calm people, not including myself. Seven men and six women smiling at me as I pass each one of them. Smiling the ways one would if they appreciated seeing you. As if they were familiar with you also. So why cant I place their visage with names? Who are these people? What do they mean to me? No matter how welcoming the spots next to them may seem, I decided to find the blond woman from before. If I ask the right questions I am sure I’ll get out.

I ask the salt and pepper bearded man to the left of me. “Have you by any chance seen the tallish, blond woman with the cart? The one in the black dress?”

“There was no woman with a cart Arthur.” He looks at me with confusion.

“What do you mean? She was here. She knew what was going on.”

“If you say so Arthur” The man shrugs and turns his attention back to an A. Huxley book he held in his lap.

Im inclined to think that she must be in the next car behind ours. She must have made her way to the next set of strangers. Naturally my inclination moved me back up through the isle, without a struggle at all despite the steep decent. I finally feel like I’m getting somewhere. The seat I was sitting in is now occupied with another tenant. Pin striped khaki pants, a Newburg green blazer with a white satin V-Neck top underneath. Gilded in gold jewelry and holding a crystal cup of Mystic brandy. The smell of milk and honey wafted off their dark black hair into the air when they turned to address my staring.

“ Who are you?” They asked “Where are we going?”

“ To be honest I am trying to figure that out myself.” I state back. “ Where did the woman go who handed you that glass?”

“ In not quite sure. I just know she moved on.” Clearly done talking and uninterested, they turn back to gaze at the crystal glass in the palm of their hand and took a hard sip.

“Thanks anyway” I say to myself as I slowly make my way to the sliding door in the back of the cabin. With a slight force, I pull open the door to reveal a porcelain sink with a gold framed mirror and a porcelain toilet with a gold pull handle hanging from the ceiling; in a room the size of a large broom closet. The walls pasted with a black, textured, metallic paper and a shelf fixed above the toilet held individual white cotton hand towels folded next to a gold vase of red snapdragons. Surprised again, Im back to not knowing what to do. So I position myself in front of the mirror and turn on the cold water. The lighting highlights my disheveled hair and defeated features. Bending down, I cup my hands under the running water and close my eyes. The rush of the cold calming my nerves. Felling the air move around me, confirming that I take up space. Then a knock at the door brings me back again to my welsh leather chair.

The end