The After

Patricia came to slowly, reluctantly. She felt good, soft, and light. Gentle swaying added to her comfort and reminded her of rocking in her mother's arms-no even before that. The thought made Patricia laugh, as if she could remember a time before being born. Her laugh turned into a yawn and she stretched as the last remnants of unconsciousness slipped from her mind. She rolled over and became fully alert as she fell off the narrow bed onto prickly blue carpet. She heard chuckles and looked up sharply only to see the door in front of her slam shut, receding footsteps and giggles sounded on the other side.

She sat up rubbing her hip. She froze as the peace of sleep waned and her surroundings focused. She had been on a bench that doubled as a bed, it was wrapped in a slightly less uncomfortable fabric than the carpet, but the same shade of blue. An identical bench/bed was across from her, and opposite the door was a large window, beyond it she could see darkness penetrated at even intervals with beams of light speeding past the glass. Patricia was on a moving train.

She stumbled to her feet and over to the door pulling it open as she gasped for air, panic was setting in. She tried to remember how she got on the train, what she had been doing before she fell asleep. But trying to remember before the train seemed just as laughable as when she tried to remember the ocean of her mother’s belly. The train seemed to tilt as Patricia tried to think straight. She stumbled and leaned onto the wall for support.

Train attendants. Train attendants would be able to help her.

A few feet to her left, the cabin car ended, beyond it, she could see only see the lights of the tunnel the train sped through. She was in the backmost train car. She turned to her right, a group of people stood close to the door that led to the next car. They were whispering, obviously about Patricia, occasionally one would look her way before quickly averting their gaze. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she imagined she looked drunk or high or some combination of both.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

Patricia opened her eyes, the group was staring at her sympathetically. There were three of them, a woman with bright red hair wore a tube top that only covered her breast and shorts with even less material. Her face was painted with blush and lipstick and eyeshadow so brilliant it distracted from her outfit. The other two looked rather drab next to her, a man with a kind smile and a woman with weary eyes. Patricia wasn’t sure who asked the question, so she shook her head, “I need to find an attendant. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here.”

“Oh, baby, “ the extravagant woman cooed, “Ask too many questions you won’t be able to enjoy the ride.”

The other woman rolled her eyes, “Not everyone wants to waste their time in debauchery, Taylor, some of us seek more.”

The extravagant woman, Taylor, snorted, “Jesus, Mother Mary, enjoy the train or go through the door and be done with it.”

The other woman, Mary maybe, seemed especially irritated by this, and Patricia realized they were probably continuing a conversation she wasn’t meant to be a part of. She wondered if she would be able to squeeze by without them noticing.

“That’s not my name,” The other woman, who was not Mary huffed, “And I’ve told you a million times, I’m not religious, I just think putting good into the train is better than...” She struggled to finish her sentence.

“Having fun?” Max finished for her.

“To what extent, when will you be finished?”

“Why? Are you gonna walk me up to the first car?”

Not Mary smiled sweetly, “I’d do anything to help you, Max.”

Max sucked her teeth, “Only cause you think it’ll get you into heaven.”

Not Mary through the hands up in the air, “I’m not religious! I just don’t ya know, wanna end up here again.”

“Then you’re not doing here right, cause baby I’m choosing the train every time.” She turned to Patricia with a radiant smile, and held out her hand “The train is not a punishment and if anyone tells you differently, tell them to come and find Taylor.”

Patricia shook her hand, “Um, ok, I’m Patricia, uh, the attendant?”

Taylor frowned and lifted her shoulder in a lazy shrug, “Who knows.”

“Don’t be so horrible,” the man with the kind smile finally spoke, “You remember how it was. I’m Andrew. Come on, let’s see if we can find someone to help.”

Instead of compartments, the next car was lined with chairs, all covered in the same shade of blue that was beginning to make Patricia nauseous. The car was dark, most of the lights turned off, at least in this part of the car, up ahead she could see it was brightly lit. At first, Patricia thought the occupants of the car were asleep, most of them sat with their heads bowed or in their hands, the eyes she could see were closed. But whether it was the tilt of their heads, the soft murmur from the occasional passenger, the glimpse of worn beads, or the clasp of their hands, she realized most of them were deep in prayer.

Andrew gave her arm a gentle tug, she hadn’t realized she’d been staring. They continued through the car. And suddenly, it was neither dark nor quiet. A man stood at the front of the car, at a podium amid people who waved and clapped as the preacher boisterously preached from his impossible podium. Patrica froze in confusion as Andrew continued, oblivious to her horror. She looked behind her. His podium wasn’t the only impossible thing. She had not been able to hear the preacher or his congregation just a step ago. Nor was there gradual ease between the lightness of the front of the car and the darkness of the back. She stepped back into the darkness and the sounds of the light faded. Impossible. She stepped forward and turned around to look back into the quiet darkness.

“Taylor and I don’t agree on a lot,” Patricia jumped as Andrew’s voice sounded in her ear, she turned to face him and his gentle smile, “but she’s right when she says somethings you just shouldn’t question. Come on.”

Patricia followed him, in part because she didn’t know what else to do and in part, because as she contemplated the light-loud quiet-dark train, she settled on the only logical conclusion she could think of; she was dreaming.

They passed through eight more cars that were more or less the same. Different faiths and different denominations of those faiths in each car. Most with the impossible divide between quiet prayer and group worship.

When they finally came to a car that was different her conviction this was all a figment of her imagination deepened. This car was dark through and through, but it was not quiet. Loud music blared through the car, replacing the gentle sway of the train with the thump of the beat. Strobe lights flashed across the seats, illuminating people in dazzling outfits and makeup. They danced, they smoked, Patrica watched one couple snort something off of a table, and another with their tongues jammed so far down the other’s throats they threatened to swallow each other.

“Care to join,” the woman asked, peeling herself away from her partner to hold a hand out to Patricia. The man began to unbuckle his pants.

Patricia considered it, they were both gorgeous, and this was after all a dream. Andrew opened the door at the end of the train car letting in light. He raised an eyebrow at Patricia a question. Perhaps this was a dream for another night, she was curious where he was taking her, and what other mysteries lay in the other cars.

The next car was brightly lit and smelled of freshly baked bread that reminded Patricia that in addition to things she could not remember was the last time she had eaten.

“Patricia? Patricia, right? I have that right, right?” A stout woman with rosy cheeks grinned at Patricia holding out a slice of bread, chunks of butter still slightly visible as they melted on its warm surface.

“Oh, my god, yes!” She wasn’t sure if she wasn’t answering the woman or excited about the bread as she shoved it into her mouth, but the woman seemed satisfied either way.

She sat down next to a tall man in a business suit who nodded at Patricia. Andrew sat down across from them and gestured for her to take the seat next to him.

“I thought you were taking me to an attendant?” Patricia asked licking her fingers as she sat down.

“This is Sophia and Gerald.” Andrew introduced the others, ignoring her question.

“Nice to meet you!” Sophia beamed.

“Delighted Darling,” Gerald said in a thick British accent, Patricia hadn’t expected, “and so dearly sorry.”

“Gerald!” Sophia exclaimed pitching his arm, then to Patricia, “Sorry, he hasn’t been here long.”

“Well, it seems appropriate,” Gerald defended rubbing his arm.

“Sorry for what?” Patricia asked feeling once again like she’d walked in on a conversation that wasn’t meant for her.

“That’s the spirit!” Sophia clapped, “More bread?” She asked. The question seemed rhetorical as she lifted the table to her side and placed a bread pan and butter plate atop it. She cut and buttered slices for everyone. Just when Patricia began to get thirsty, a short balding man appeared with a bright smile, a stack of cups, and a pitcher of iced tea.

“Tea anyone?”

Patricia loved dream magic.

“Oh, Anthony!” Sophia exclaimed, “I could have come over and helped you carry that! I was just about to come hand out the rest of this bread!”

Anthony waved her away, “No trouble at all Sophie! I need the exercise,” He chuckled pouring Patricia a glass.

“You’ll make her think she’s gone to heaven,” Gerald grinned only to earn another pinch from Sophia.

Sophia wagged her finger at him, “You wanna talk about heaven and death go to one of the religious cars, this one here is just about being good. Making people feel good.”

Gerald pointed at his injured arm, “That does not count as a good deed!”

“I don’t think I’ve gone to heaven,” Patricia said, interjecting herself into the conversation, this was after all her dream.

“No?” Andrew asked, curiosity coloring his tone.

She shook her head, “I’m dreaming.”

Everyone laughed as if she’d told a very funny joke.

“If I’m not dreaming, Where’s the train attendant.”

“If you are dreaming make him appear,” Gerald countered.

Patricia shook her head. She was beginning to get frustrated, “If I’m not dreaming, where is the train going? When does it stop?”

Everyone, not just in her small group, but seemingly everyone in the entire car stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Patricia.

“She just got here,” Sophia, for once not her chipper self spoke lowly, but it was so quiet that she was easily heard.

As suddenly as they stopped what they were doing, they resumed as if nothing happened. Patricia’s heart thundered in her chest. She didn’t like this dream anymore.

Andrew leaned over to her speaking quietly, with the din of the car at its normal volume, only she could hear him. “The train never stops, sometimes people get off, sometimes people get on, but the train always keeps going.”

Patricia shook her head, but lowered her voice to match his, “If it never stops, how do people get off and on.”

Andrew sighed, “Not taking Taylor’s advice huh?”He continued when she responded with only a piercing glare. “No one is sure how people get on.” he hesitated, “or off.”

She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes accusingly sensing he was hiding something. He held up his hands in defense, “It’s the truth, sort of.” He looked over at Sophia who had been closely watching their conversation.

Sophia simply looked over Patricia’s shoulder in the direction they had been heading. Patrica looked behind her. The view of the next car was obscured as someone had intentionally painted over the window.

“What’s in there?” She asked. But she did not get a response, the other occupants of her group were talking amongst themselves, their normal countenance in place.

Patricia stood up and walked to the end of the car. Even though the car remained at top volume, she felt as if every pair of eyes on the car followed her descent. She reached the end of the car and with a shaky breath, placed her hand on the handle. She was dreaming, right? So why was she so afraid all of a sudden? She closed her eyes and pushed open the door.

She half expected to wake up or be in a completely different place, far from this puzzling train. But she was just in another train car. This one still different from all the rest, there were no seats, and in fact, the car was empty except for two other passengers. They stood one behind the other, the first, a man in black dress pants and a bright orange button-down shirt, only the bottom few buttons buttoned. He had spiky hair and glitter sparkled on his neck and arms. The woman in front of him wore a long dress and had her blond hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, a bible clutched in her right hand by her side. She stood in front of a door with a red light above it. There was a sign to her left, but the woman stood to block Patricia’s view of it. As Patricia approached to get a better view, the light turned green. The woman took a deep breath.

“You got this!” The man said putting his hand on her shoulder in what Patricia thought was a comforting gesture.

That is until the woman screamed.

“Dammit, Dammit, Dammit! You worldly scum! I told you not to even talk to me, why in the hell would you think you could touch me!”

“Sweety, I think the big G-O-D is going to be more upset about all the naughty words you just used. Shouldn’t thou have a pure tongue or something?”

“Well, I obviously can’t go through now! You just didn’t want to wait your turn so you sabotaged mine. But you’re going straight to hell, I know it, and I’ll try not to rejoice cause that would be ugly and god does not like ugly.”

“That’s how I know he loves me!” He called as she stormed out of the room. She bumped Patricia on the way out, and he continued, “Just racking up the sins, you’re going to be here awhile, try and enjoy it!”

He was basically talking to Patricia, the other woman was long gone, he grinned, “Can you believe she thinks God is through that door.” He shook his head and laughed, continuing before she could respond, “She was wrong by the way, about me wanting to cut in line, I just hate how those bible thumpers think they’re better than us because we’ve learned to enjoy the ride.”

Patricia was silent, thou he was the only other person in the room, this seemed to be yet another conversation that could go on without her.

“Honestly,” He continued, proving her right, “You can go first if you want.” Suddenly he seemed nervous.

“If you don’t think God is through that door, what is?”

He shrugged and looked at the door, “I think that was something I thought about before. I mean I can’t remember, but I think it was, I mean don’t most people.”

This time he seemed to be waiting for an answer, “I have no clue what anything you just said means.”

He laughed, “You’re new here, huh, then you won’t go through.” He sighed. “I just mean that before-people spend their whole lives wondering what happens next. Some people like Joanne there,” he pointed after the woman who left the room, “and all those do-gooders too, they spend their whole lives trying to make sure they’re in a good position for what comes next. They don’t enjoy now. Think about that, I imagine you’ll be here for a while. To answer your question, I have no clue what’s beyond that door. I’ve spent most of my time on this train very deliberately not thinking about it. And man, have I had a great time.” he laughed, “Oh, man, such a good time. And if that means I go to hell now,” He shrugged and walked towards the door he put his hand on the handle. “I’m okay with that.”

“Wait!” Patrica shouted making the man pause, “I don’t understand, how long have you been on the train? What do you mean before?

He laughed but didn’t turn to speak to her, “If you decided to enjoy the ride, and I really hope you do, we have a motto; Ask too many questions you won’t be able to enjoy the ride.” He pulled the door open.

Patricia had it in her mind to peek past him and see what was on the other side. But one moment he was there, the door opening, and the next moment he was gone, the door shut. The light above the door was red again.

Patrica approached the door and read the sign. In bold black lettering it read:

Please wait until the light is green to enter

Please make sure you are finished before entering

Once you enter, you may not return

Patrica stared at the instructions. Finished what? They read like instructions on a test. You’re new here, huh, then you won’t go through.

Patricia frowned, she hated proving people right, but she supposed it didn’t matter now that he was gone. She turned to leave the first car. As the door shut behind her and she stepped back into the noisy car, she thought about her day on the train, had it been a day now? Had it only been a day? She looked out the window, the same tunnel zoomed by. How long would she stay on the train before she decided to go through the door? How would she spend her time here? She thought of Taylor, the first person she met on the train, and her motto.

“Honey, you look cold!” A tall slender woman in a yellow sundress smiled at Patricia, “Would you like a blanket? Is there anything I can help you with?”

Patricia smiled, “Do you know how to do makeup?”