Soul Train

“… But my body

Yearned to be free

I got up on the floor and thought

Somebody could choose me…”

.

She wakes up on the train to the sounds of Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give It Up, Part 1.” Speeds pass by much like the unknown amount of time that’s passed. The girl has no idea how long she’s been here or how fast she’s going. She looks around for luggage, a ticket, a clue.

The car is empty - except for her.

.

“... No more standin'

There beside the walls

Finally got myself together, baby

And I'm havin' a ball…”

.

The girl walks to the aisle and then to the car door. She faces a sign that reads:

Welcome, click the button to go to the Refreshment Car. You know you’re thirsty.

The sign is right; she is thirsty. She clicks the car door button and listens to Marvin as the stainless steel barrier slides open.

.

“... As long as you're groovin'

There's always a chance

Somebody watchin'

Might wanna make romance

Move your body…”

.

The girl sees her first other on the train.

The woman appears at the end of the aisle, behind the bar; she is obviously the Refreshment Car gatekeeper. The gatekeeper stares in silence - with her barreled chest acting as a shield against bullshit - at the girl. Her chest, status, mask has seen much. It’s a reflection of many lives. It’s one that reveals the gatekeeper’s heritage. The woman captivates and intimidates the girl.

.

“... Ooh baby, you dance all night

To the groove and

Feel alright

Everybody's groovin'

On like a fool

But if you see me

Spread out and let me in…”

.

The girl walks to the counter at the end of the aisle ahead. The gatekeeper asks her, “What would you like to drink?” The girl quickly responds, “Water.” The woman scoffs and hands the girl a stein of beer. It’s a vessel reminiscent of days of yore - lives the girl doesn’t remember, yet. Much like her not remembering why/how she is on this train, why/how she manages to be the only passenger, why/how/WHERE it’s going.

.

“... This is such a groovy party, baby

We're here face to face

Baby, everybody's swingin'

This is such a groovy place…”

.

The woman gives the girl a wink and a nose nudge, tilting her face toward the singular light dangling from the ceiling. It’s like an anglerfish, dwelling in the darkest parts of the ocean, and then lighting them up. Infrared shit, man.

.

“... All the young ladies are so fine

Geez, movin' your body

Easy with no doubts

I know what you thinkin', baby

You wanna turn me out, hey...”

.

When they gain eye-contact again, the gatekeeper points to the exit door. The girl walks out of the car and comes to a spiral staircase. It’s elaborate in a way that doesn’t fit the time or Amtrak or any understanding she’s had thereof regarding trains. But, somehow, the spiral stairwell does fit. The girl curiously ascends. She pushes the button, entering her first upper car.

.

“... Keep on dancin' (baby, ha, like a lady, lady)

You got to give it up…”

.

Jungle vegetation, balmy conditions, and Lot Lizards await her inside. Hundreds of them bask in the sun. Reptiles with cold blood sit on top of rocks that have replaced the expected recliners of a Coach car. They hiss and churn as they soak up the energy in the room. They defecate and trickle-down on the cars below – minus the Refreshment Car where the gatekeeper resides.

The girl passes through as the Lot Lizards do their dance in the sun and lick their wounds. She is not entertained, enticed, or curious. She slithers around and passes through to the next car.

.

“... Keep on dancin' baby, ha, like a lady, lady

You got to give it up…”

.

The doors of the second car open. All the girl can think is: It’s so fluffy.

She can barely contain the feeling of comfort radiating from her chest to the rest of her limbs. Everything, even the smell inside this car, feels like part of her. The smallest memories she has of herself. She has an urge to remain in the cushion of this car's existence. She floats at unknown speeds, in an unknown direction, for an unknown amount of time, and then she hears Marvin.

She knows, ultimately, the fluff and comfort of this car is only a portion and it doesn’t encompass the totality of the vessel. She realizes she can’t stay in that illusion. It’s time to find the exit.

.

“... Keep on dancin' baby, ha, like a lady, lady (ooh, baby)

You got to give it up…”

.

The door opens to a car full of Legos and Lincoln Logs: building blocks of the rigid. It's in direct opposition to the fluffy cushion of childlike innocence she just left. Yet, the girl knows this car retains a childlike curiosity; one that becomes cushion amidst rigidity - logs with perfectly chiseled cutouts for stacking patterns of expectation and protection.

Something doesn’t feel right, so she builds a log cabin and starts a fire. The song starts again and she knows it’s time to move on.

.

“... Keep on dancin' baby, ha, like a lady, lady

You got to give it up…”

.

This fourth door opens to an estuary. It’s full of flighted creatures: dragonflies, butterflies of all varieties; ones with winged patterns the girl has never seen; ones that rival Dali and Matisse and af Klint, and the rest of the best.

The girl sees a dock and walks down its log built scaffolding to an ever-narrowing end, and sits. As she peers past the pier and soaks in the fanned wisdom of the creatures’ wings, she pauses and takes a deep breath. The girl feels weightless, in flight.

After the pause, she has to gather, ground herself back into the reality of the train heading toward this unknown destination at unknown speeds. This isn’t it - this car - isn’t all there is to discover about the whole. She moves to the exit.

.

“... Keep on dancin' baby, ha, like a lady, lady (give it up, give it up, baby)

You got to give it up…”

.

The next car is a swamp-like environment, full of the worst type of mud.

The girl stands in and is surrounded by this sticky, cumbersome quicksand-like ground. She can’t even call what she’s standing in soil; it’s too saturated and morphable to be earth. It takes a moment for her to learn, to adjust her weight, and to balance her feet.

The mud no longer sucks her in and the lightness of her status balances, floats her to the trail beyond muddy goo. The one leading to the next car. She is grateful she stopped sinking and allowed her intuition to float with it, above it, together.

.

“... Keep on dancin' baby, ha, like a lady, lady

You got to give it up, keep on

Let's dance, and shout

That's what it's all about

Let's dance, and shout

That's what it's all about, get down…”

.

She opens the car door to her rivers of Babylon. A crown of flora appears and captivates her to the point of momentary memory loss, loss of consciousness, loss of self. She puts it on, and then feels the drum of her anahata.

She takes the lessons of ebb and flow, of rhythm, of archetype, of Ariel and King Triton to a place where they are no longer waterlogged. All are able to breathe new air. The flood happens and the dove flies her in the direction of her next exit.

.

“... Let's dance, and shout (hey baby)

That's what it's all about

Let's dance, and shout

That's what it's all about

Let's dance, and shout…”

.

The door opens and our girl is enveloped by the visual spectrum of color burning all around her. It’s overwhelming, intense at first, and she’s blinded by the rainbow of fire. Her rods and cones adjust to the inferno, and then she sees phoenixes perched all around - gently gripping the stems of spectrum beams.

Transmuting and being reborn : In various branches specified to their -

reds,

oranges,

yellows,

greens,

blues,

indigos,

and violets.

She feels humbled staring at the rays of nobility - the raise of the phoenix.

.

“... Let's dance, and shout

That's what it's all about

Let's dance, and shout

That's what it's all about

Let's dance, and shout

That's what it is!

Let's dance, and shout

That's, aw!...”

.

The phoenixes leap from their perch-rays toward her and the final exit.

The stainless steel door caresses itself into the pocket of the gateway to her last car. A kaleidoscope of the train’s landscape - each seat an element the girl just explored - appears before her, behind the metal door.

The girl notices that one seat in this Coach Kaleidoscope is empty - no design. This is when she chooses her throne, and sits in it.

The Refreshment Car gatekeeper saunters up with steins — and a conductor’s hat. She gives the canvas, patent leather, badged accessory to the girl.

Our girl takes off the flowers and puts on her crown. The train stops.

.

“... That's what it's all about

Let's dance, and shout

That's what it's all about, yeah!

Let's dance, and shout

Oh baby, ooh

Hey!”