The Conductor

The Conductor paused, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow before shoveling the last of the coal into the firebox. Hot steam and smoke rose in black clouds around him. A layer of soot stained his white clothing and dark brown skin. He finally set down the shovel, exhaling deeply. His arms burned and his back ached. No one else worked with him, so he had to run the train by himself.

But he already considered himself lucky to have a job in these times. Some people didn't even have a home. And it was worth it. His wife Amelia's melodious laugh and the sight of their son Theodore with his belly full made it all worth it.

This is the last stop, He reminded himself. The last station. An empty station. Only a few more hours of driving and then he could go home, take the dirty boots off his cramped feet, pour himself a cold, tall glass of beer, and reward himself after a long day of hard work.

He made his way back to his car. The motions had become second nature to him. He gripped the large lever near the floor in front of him, squeezed the handle, and shoved it forward. Then he let go of the release, locking it in place. He found the medium-sized valve on the boiler. He slid the knob on the half-round box on the cab wall to the front without looking. The headlights lit up, illuminating the tracks in front of him with a warm, golden glow. He pulled down twice on a cable above his head. A crisp, piercing sound rang out from the steam whistle. He released the brakes and opened the throttle. The engine sprang to life, chugging loudly as the train began to lurch forward.

"Wait!" a shrill, nasally voice shrieked. A little green man in an oversized, gray trench coat sprinted down the platform. He carried a worn, dusty brown briefcase. His large, pupilless eyes bulged out of his oversized head in alarm. He nearly tripped over his webbed feet as he jumped up, hammering his three-fingered fists against the windows. "Wait, wait, wait!"

The Conductor's shoulders stiffened in surprise. He hit the brakes. The train halted. The blood drained from his face. His hands trembled as he opened the door of his car.

"H-hello?"

"Please," the little green man wheezed, stooping over and placing his hands on his skinny, bony knees as he caught his breath. He only stood at about the height of the Conductor's waist. He pointed to himself. "Ebo knows he is late. Ebo is sorry." It tipped its hat apologetically. "Please, let Ebo on the train. Ebo has an important meeting."

"Your...your name is Ebo," the Conductor said numbly. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. The sky spun above him. Black and white dots danced in front of him. The little green man looked nervously up at him.

"You drive the train, yes?"

The Conductor fainted.

The Conductor's vision was blurred when he came to. He sat up groggily, grimacing from the painful throbbing in his skull. Slowly, everything cleared around him. It was almost dark. He didn't know how long he'd been passed out for. His conscience twinged. Amelia would be worried. And Theodore wouldn't be able to fall asleep if he wasn't there to tell him a bedtime story.

A three-fingered hand tapped his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat. He stifled a yelp. The little green man, or Ebo, he supposed, stared down at him.

"Can Ebo please get on the train?"

"Uh, y-yeah." The Conductor staggered to his feet and gestured towards one of the seats. He gawked as the little green man sat down in a chair, hugging his briefcase close to him. The two stared at each other for a brief, but uncomfortable amount of time. The Conductor awkwardly cleared his throat.

"So where's this meeting of yours?"

"Ironbark Branch Station, please and thank you," Ebo answered, albeit with a hint of irritation in his words. "You can drive the train, no?"

"Right. Right. Sorry," the Conductor stammered, hurrying back to the front of the locomotive. The whistle puffed rhythmically with steam. He got the engine started again. The train chugged louder and louder as bustled further down the railway and picked up speed.

The Conductor had the route memorized by now, but he still liked to admire the view, even if he only got the tiniest glimpses of it. The pretty, rustic town square gradually changed into a bright green, flowering meadow as the train continued along its line. It passed under a small bridge. Then a sparkling pond with a family of ducks swimming happily in the water. The sun lowered in the distance, painting the horizon in beautiful, luminous shades of yellow, orange, and red that melted into deep violet and dark blue. He almost forgot he had an extraterrestrial in the car behind him.

"Excuse me," Ebo piped up. The Conductor flinched in his seat. He hit the brakes of the train. Then he quickly composed himself, combing his fingers through his black, coiled hair and dusting off his uniform. He forced a cheerful smile as he made his way toward the alien's seat.

Get it together, He scolded himself. He might be a little green man, but he's just another passenger. And at least he has manners. More manners than some people, even.

"Can I help you?" He paused awkwardly. "Mister, uh, Ebo?"

"A drink, please," Ebo said flatly.

"What kind?"

Ebo's brow furrowed. His nose scrunched up in confusion. Then his face flushed neon green in embarrassment. He fiddled uneasily with his briefcase.

"There are different kinds?" he croaked. The Conductor's face softened at the fearful quiver in the creature's voice. He did think the little green man was a bit strange but didn't mean to scare him. It'd never occurred to him that he could look just as weird to Ebo as much as Ebo was to him. He softened his tone, trying to put his passenger at ease.

"We've got water, tea, coffee..." the Conductor explained. Ebo perked up at the last option. He flashed a needle-like teeth-filled grin at him.

"Ebo would like to try the coffee!"

"A good choice," the Conductor said. Ebo's face brightened at that. Brightened with such childlike excitement that the Conductor's forced smile became genuine.

"Ebo's choice was good?"

"Yeah, it is a good choice. An amazing choice, even!" the Conductor assured him. "Would you like that with milk and sugar?"

"Milk and sugar?" Ebo asked, utterly bewildered.

"Yup."

"Is it good?"

"Well, that's the way my wife likes it, so it must be," the Conductor chuckled. Ebo looked even more perplexed than before.

"What is a wife?"

The Conductor paused for a minute, gathering his thoughts.

"My wife...is the woman who I have decided is my best friend -no, even better than a best friend. She is a friend so great that I want to spend the rest of my life with her," he explained. "One day, I bought a metal circle for her. We call it a ring. I asked if she wanted to be my best friend forever. She did, so I put it on her finger. We have a ceremony so the whole world knows we are even better than best friends. We live together, eat together, and we take care of our child together. We do everything together."

"What if you decide a man is your best friend and you give him the...err...ring? What do you call him then?" Ebo asked.

"That's a husband."

"Ebo sees. And what is milk?"

"Milk is a creamy white liquid. We get it from friendly, horned, black and white animals called cows." Ebo frowned.

"Are the cows okay with it?"

"We can't talk to them, so we'll never know for sure. But they don't seem to mind," the Conductor answered, shrugging.

"Ah, Ebo sees. And what is sugar?"

This is going to be a long trip, the Conductor thought.

The Conductor poured out a porcelain cup full of the earthy, fragrant, dark brown liquid. The alien watched, transfixed, as he dropped in two grainy cubes of sugar and poured in the smooth, rich white milk. The Conductor held it out to him.

"Be careful, it's hot." Ebo hesitantly wrapped his three fingers around the handle, suspiciously sniffing the contents with his slitted nostrils. He tested it with his forked tongue before taking a sip. His face flushed a neon yellow. He hummed happily, tapping his webbed foot on the ground as he took another sip.

The Conductor fired up the engines for what seemed like the hundredth time. The whistle blew twice. A puff of steam. Then the train chugged along the tracks.

Ebo folded his arms on the wooden frame of the curtained square window next to his seat. A long, grassy field stretched out beside him. Hundreds of horned, black and white animals grazed in the distance. They had bells around their thick, furry necks and metal circles - no, rings in their round pink noses. And udders hanging from their stomachs. He saw another huge pink man with giant, fleshy ears, like the nice train driver, squeezing out some milk into a metal container.

Ebo opened up his briefcase, fishing around for his pen and notebook. He scribbled as many terms as he could remember onto a fresh page.

Milk. Sugar. Coffee. Wife. Ring. Friend. He'd learned so many new human words today. "Friend" sounded especially pleasant. His superiors would be pleased. The coffee was particularly good. Perhaps he could bring some back to his planet.

Ebo gulped down the last of his coffee. He grimaced at the slight bitterness. Then a sliver of sweetness and creaminess hit his forked tongue. His eyes widened. He felt a burst of energy. It was good.

Ebo flinched when the train suddenly screeched to a standstill. He heard a flurry of sharp, ugly-sounding words explode from the train driver's mouth as he slammed his fist down on a box. He kept muttering angrily under his breath as he stormed back into the passenger car.

"We're running out of fuel," the train driver grumbled. "Wait here. I'm going to have to get some more coal."

"Okay," Ebo said cheerfully, lifting the cup to the sunlight filtering through the clear, shiny glass window to inspect the flowers on it. They looked just like the flowers in the meadow, except they were painted on.

The train driver marched back into his car with a bag full of chunky black rocks. He used a spade-shaped apparatus to empty them into a metal maw with flames inside it. A grayish cloud flew into the train driver's face. More ugly-sounding words. The train driver coughed as he batted the dark dust off his clothing. Ebo looked on curiously as he kept on picking up and dumping more rocks into the maw. After a while, he got bored and turned back to his notebook. Almost all of the pages were filled with his scraggly, messy writing. He grimaced. It was hard to write with only three fingers. He flipped all the way back to the beginning.

Day 1. I do not like this planet. I do not know why my superiors sent me here. It is disgusting. There is trash and dirt and sad grey buildings everywhere. The large pink creatures scream at me. They are very rude and mean, and not just to me, to their own kind as well. They are not fair. Some people live in castles and others live in gutters. They have moving pictures and "cameras" that capture moments in time but they do not know how to share. Today I walked down the street and there was a thin, hungry old creature with broken clothes asking for "coins." A lot of other creatures with beautiful clothes walked past him without even a second glance. I tried to give the old creature some food but he screamed and chased me off, too.

Day 2. I do not like this planet. They must have raisin-sized brains. They cannot even handle the idea of women helping to choose their leaders. They cannot even handle having different types of skin or different types of love. They call anyone who is different horrible names. Sometimes to their faces. Sometimes behind their backs. Either way, they hurt to hear. Today I snuck into a "school" and they have separate rooms for separate colors. Their heads may very well explode if they see our webbed feet. One teacher saw me in the hallway and he passed out. I quickly made an exit.

Day 3. I feel sorry for this planet. It is pathetic and its pathetic inhabitants are very cruel to it. I can't even see the sky. The lakes are filthy. The air stinks. There are lots of machines but no plants. I went to a museum and there was a list of animals that don't exist anymore because they killed too many of them. That was all I got to look at before a man screamed and chased me out. I can't wait to go home.

Ebo felt a twinge of sadness. He looked at the train driver. Then back at his notebook. The train driver as he put in the last of the "coal." The notebook. The window. The empty cup that used to be filled with delicious coffee. The melodious whistle. The grassy field and the now starry night sky as the train began to move once more. The chugging of the engine. A smile tugged at his mouth. He flipped to the last page of his notebook and started to scribble.

Day 4. Last day. Maybe this planet is not so bad. I am sitting on something called a train. The train driver is not bad either. He also passed out when he saw me but he did not scream at me or chase me away. He gave me a drink called "coffee", which you can drink with "milk" and sweet cubes called "sugar." He has a family, like us. And a "best friend" with whom he does everything together called a "wife." I finally saw some plants and a clean pond with ducks in it. And some well-fed "cows" with bells on their necks. That's the animal they get the milk from. Maybe there is hope. Maybe if the large pink creatures learn to care less about coins or differences or machines and learn to care about each other and simple things instead, life will be a lot easier for all of them.

Ebo didn't even notice as the train passed under a large sign reading "Ironbark Branch Station."

Then almost out of nowhere, the chugging ended. The whistle blew a final time. The landscape outside the window stopped changing. The wheels of the train ground to a stop. Ebo looked up from the paper, the train driver loomed over him. The large man seemed to be reading his notes as well. Ebo apprehensively clutched his pen to his chest. The train driver turned to him, his expression unintelligible, his voice quiet.

"So that's your job? You're having a meeting with your superiors, reporting on my planet, and then you're leaving?"

Ebo nodded hesitantly. The train driver didn't reply for a second. Then the corner of his mouth curled up.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your last day, at least, even if the rest of your trip wasn't as good." His eyes flickered. "Maybe, when the whole world takes your advice and they're ready to welcome little green men, you can visit me at the station again and I'll show you even more of wonderful things it has to offer. You could have coffee at my house. I'm sure my wife and son wouldn't mind." The two stared at each other for a moment, only it didn't feel as awkward anymore. Then Ebo broke the silence.

"What's your job? Ebo wants to tell his superiors about you, too."

"I'm a conductor."

"Conductor," Ebo repeated slowly, clicking his pen again.

"C-O-N-D-U-C-T-O-R," the Conductor spelled out.

Several other little green men in hats and oversized coats waiting on the platform. Along with a giant, circular spaceship hovering just above them.

Ebo's notebook had run out of space so he carefully scrawled the word onto his skinny green arm. He held a spindly hand out to the Conductor and grinned pointily.

"Please allow me to shake your hand, Conductor." The Conductor couldn't help but beam as well as he clasped Ebo's hand in his and shook it firmly Ebo packed his notebook and pen. He gathered his briefcase close to him and tipped his hat as he hopped out of his seat, strolled out of the train, and to his superiors. Then he froze mid-step.

Ebo gave the Conductor one last look from over his shoulder. He tipped his hat back. Ebo's face flushed a bright yellow. Happiness.

A ray of light from the spaceship shined down on Ebo and his fellow little green men, lifting them into the silvery vehicle. Then, in the blink of an eye, it zipped away and vanished into the stars.

The second the Conductor opened the door, his wife threw her arms around him and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Thank goodness you're alright!" Amelia laughed melodiously. He hugged her back, gratefully pressing his lips to her forehead and breathing in the light, sweet, floral scent of her soft, clean clothes. She brushed the matted, sweat-drenched hair out of his face and unbuttoned his jacket to hang it on the rack for him. "You're four hours late. I was beginning to think there was an accident. What happened?"

"A passenger jumped onto the train at the very last minute. He needed to get to Ironbark Branch Station for a meeting." He walked over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of beer and pouring it into a frosty glass. He kicked his feet up on the table and took a huge, refreshing swig.

"How's Theodore?"

"Oh, you know how he is. I gave him a big dinner and two glasses of milk already but he still can't fall asleep until -"

"Papa! Papa!" Theodore cried, dashing over from his bedroom and leaping into his father's arms. "Papa, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

"Alright, alright, Theo." The Conductor's eyes twinkled. "Settle down." He set down his glass of beer and held the boy closer to him. "You see, I was shoveling the last of my coal into the firebox, at my last stop for the day. I blew the whistle two times and was just about to be on my way. Then I saw a little green man hurrying over to the train from the platform...."