The Beauty of Vengeance

My eyes fluttered and began to open as the blurriness cleared from my vision. A feeling of motion rushed over me and I felt strangely disoriented. As my eyes began to focus, I became acutely aware of my surroundings, but none of it made sense. Panic began to course through me like a runaway train, which was oddly apropos as I was ACTUALLY ON A TRAIN and I had no idea how I got there.

What the hell is going on? I racked my brain. How did I get here? More importantly, WHY DON’T I REMEMBER?!!

I thought back to a time before waking up on this train. The last thing I remembered was dinner with my mom.

Was it last night? Two nights ago? What day is it anyway?!!

My panic was about to hit the roof.

Just calm down, Sarah, and think. What happened? Try to remember everything. OK, so, dinner with Mom…

It was the usual fare. Mom went on and on gushing about her new neighbor’s son who would be ‘just perfect’ for me. His name was Dylan Walker. He was a Princeton graduate and already making his mark as a day trader on Wall Street. I wondered if my mom had any clue what a day trader even was. Or how boring I would most likely find any conversation with him to be.

Mom hadn’t worked a day in her life. She was raised ‘old school’ by her grandmother, my great-grandmother, Bertie Rose Lee. Nan-nan (as my mom called her) had passed when I was much too young to remember. My mother was filled with her ‘words of wisdom’ which most often centered on how to meet and marry a rich old man and be set for life just like she did when she was a young girl. When I was younger, my mom would often repeat Nan-nan’s words, “Don’t marry for love the first time! Marry for money. Then when you’re set for life, you can marry whoever you want and live happily ever after!” Mom had tons of stories about Nan-nan’s first husband, Frank Mastiglione, and most of them made it sound like he had ties to the Mafia. All of them emphasized that the man was very wealthy from whatever his business pursuits actually were which was still a bit fuzzy to me.

Nan-nan was 20 years old when she married Frank. He was 67 and childless. Back in her day, it wasn’t uncommon for older, wealthy men to take on a young, beautiful bride and there weren’t any pre-nuptial agreements to muddy up the waters either. They both had ulterior motives in the marriage. He wanted a son to carry on his familial line and to whom he could bequeath the depth and breadth of his personal fortune. She, of course, wanted his fortune.

Nan-nan promised Frank that she would do everything she could to make his wish come true, all the while plotting to ensure no child ever came of their union. She certainly didn’t want to lose the fortune for which she had gifted away her youthful years. Lucky for her, not so much for him, less than three years after they said ‘I do,’ Frank died quietly in his sleep after a three-week bout with pneumonia. There were stories, as there usually are in such cases, that his death was hastened along perhaps by withholding antibiotics or leaving the windows open in the middle of winter. Of course, none of this was ever really pursued and his death was officially written up as ‘natural causes.’ Nan-nan inherited everything after all.

Mom seriously considered following in Nan-nan’s footsteps, but she found that she didn’t have the stomach for it. She wanted to marry for love. And she did. Again. And again. And again. Well, you get the picture. Mom had an innate ability to pick the worst men around. If she was surrounded by fifteen good, stable, caring men who made an honest living and one rotten man who would fill his pockets with the retirement funds of the elderly, she’d go for the fraudster every time. Something was apparently broken in her because she kept picking the same type over and over again. Good-looking, arrogant, and often brutal men, who were adept at circumventing the truth, passed in and out of our lives. My own sperm-donor ‘father’ died in prison when I was two after getting on the wrong side of an even worse criminal. My ‘dad’ was clearly not smart enough to realize that raising the hackles of a career prisoner like Jaco Jenkins, who had nothing left to lose, wasn’t the best move. Yes, Jaco Jenkins was the serial murderer who was serving 18 successive life sentences with no hope of parole. EVER. And it would have been more if the detectives had been able to gather enough evidence to pin several more murders on him which they were certain he had committed. I learned all about Jenkins v. New York in my Criminal Law class in my first year at law school. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t choose criminal law as my law school focus. It was just too depressing.

Knowing how poorly she had chosen her own romantic prospects, Mom was always trying to push some young, over-achieving, already-wealthy-under-30 type on me. She had long since decided that Nan-nan only had it half-right. You should marry for love AND money! As usual, I told her I’m not interested in dating right now. I’m trying to finish law school and this last year is really tough!! I simply don’t have time to deal with a relationship, keep my grades up and study for the New York bar exam. She was disappointed, again, as usual. But I could always count on Mom to support me in my decisions no matter what. She was my biggest fan and I loved her deeply, regardless of her flaws and bad choice in marital partners.

Wait! I remember! I remember leaving Mom’s apartment and going to…the subway station at W. 81st Street! Yes! Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.

I caught the first available train to Grand Central. I needed to catch the train back to New Haven and the drudgery of my last year at Yale Law. Mom and I had an early dinner since it was about a 2½-hour ride from Grand Central to New Haven. The subway was always fascinating to me. There is so much diversity among those who ride the rails, and it’s kind of entertaining to just hang out and “people-watch.” On that trip, I wasn’t the only one people-watching, though. I remembered a tall, gangly man, late 20s and of Italian heritage, I would guess. He was attractive in an odd sort of way, but not really my type. He kept staring at me, though. After a few minutes, his staring had gone beyond creepy. I was getting anxious and kept looking at my watch hoping that we’d soon arrive at Grand Central so I could get away from his relentless and intense gaze.

But what happened next? I can’t remember! Did I make it to Grand Central Station? This train is definitely not the subway train and it doesn’t look like the train I usually take to New Haven, either. So, where the hell am I? And how did I get here? Was I drugged? WHAT WAS THAT?!?!?!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I turned quickly, but it was gone.

Am I imagining things now? Where are all the people? Why am I alone in this train car? Maybe there are people in other cars…I should go check.

I stood up and started walking toward the door connecting this train car to the next. I glanced out the window to see if I could recognize anything, but it was so dark and the train was going so fast, I couldn’t make out any of the surrounding scenery.

Wow! This train is going so fast! If I didn’t know better, I’d think Elon Musk built one of his high-speed trains out here and I just missed the announcement. And it feels like the train is accelerating!

As I walked toward the door, it almost felt like I was walking into a strong wind, like I had to force each step and each step was a bit harder to take.

What’s going on here?!

I finally made it to the end of the train car and reached out for the door handle. Suddenly, the train jerked and I was thrown backward landing between the third and fourth row of seats.

OMG! This is crazy!! I’ve got to find someone on this train! A ticket-taker? The engineer? Anyone who can tell me where I am and where this train is taking me?!

I got up and checked the damage. Nothing broken. Even my pride was intact since there was no one around to see my unladylike flight down the aisle. I made it back to the door and managed to get it open and moved swiftly into the next train car, which was just as empty as the one I left.

OK, so is it time to panic now? I’m starting to freak out! Keep it together, Sarah, panicking will not help you now! Just keep moving. There has to be someone on this train besides me!

I moved quickly now through the next four equally empty train cars. When I arrived at the door at the end of the fourth train car, it wouldn’t open. I could tell that this was the last train car and in front of me was the engine.

The engine! That means the engineer! He must be in there since someone has to be driving this train! But how do I get through this locked door?

At that moment, everything went dark.

No! It’s so dark! Is there no moon out?! No stars?! No light at all outside this train?!

I squinted my eyes trying to make out anything at all, but it was as though all traces of light had been sucked into a black hole and only darkness remained. I felt my way along the wall to the nearest seat and tried to look outside the window. Nothing. Absolutely nothing was visible.

This must be what it’s like to be blind, I thought, although I knew it was most likely a feeble comparison.

I increasingly became conscious of a soft rustling noise at the far end of the train car away from the engine. I sat very still and tried to be as quiet as I could.

There it is again! Definitely rustling! It could be the ticket taker, shuffling paper tickets in his hand!

“Hello?”

“Is someone there?”

“Please, help me. I need to know where I am and where this train is going? I don’t even know how I got here.”

“Hello?”

No one replied to my questions. The rustling stopped, but I could still feel a presence in the train car with me. And then I heard someone breathing. Whoever it was, they were right beside the aisle where I was sitting. My only consolation was that it was so dark, I knew the person couldn’t see me either.

But why won't they respond? If it's the ticket-taker, I'm sure he would respond. So, if it’s not the ticket-taker, WHO IS IT?

The person was still beside the aisle, only inches from me, when the breathing unexpectedly stopped and true fear began to grow inside me. I didn’t know who it was that was standing next to me, but I knew he (or she) was not there to help me. No, this person wanted something from me, and whatever it was, I wasn’t going to like it. I couldn’t move. I just sat there and listened intently hoping to hear footsteps moving away or the door at the far end opening as the person left the train car. Instead, I felt a slight movement of air brush past me as I huddled as far back into the seat as I could, my knees drawn up tightly against my chest.

Don’t move! Don’t breathe! DO NOT BREATHE!!!

And then I felt it. Hot breath on my face as the person leaned over toward the window where I was seated. And, just as I was about to faint from terror, I saw a flash of light outside the window behind me and a shadow in front of me. A tall, gangly shadow. I broke my silence and let out a piercing scream.

OH NO!!!! It’s HIM!!! The man from the subway!!!! WHY IS HE HERE?!?! And WHY IS HE TAUNTING ME LIKE THIS?!?!?!

As quickly as I thought those words, I saw the shadow dash away and, seconds later, heard the door at the far end open and then close again. Then just as suddenly as the darkness had begun, it lifted and the train car was ablaze with glorious light again. I never knew how much I disliked the dark until that moment. I looked around quickly, then walked down the aisle about halfway to the door on the far end. It looked like he had left the train car, but I was too afraid to go all the way down to the door to be sure. I thought it was just too risky in case he was waiting down there to trap me. The encounter made me even more intent on getting through that door to the engine, though.

I looked around hurriedly for anything I could use to break the lock. And then I saw it, at the end of the train car near the engine, there was a fire extinguisher and an axe inside a glass case that read “Break Glass in Case of Emergency.”

OK, so now all I have to do is break into the glass case. Riiight…how am I supposed to do that? With my bare hands?

I turned around and there was a small door on the opposite wall beside the door to the engineer’s cabin. I thought it must be a restroom, but I tried the door and it was also locked.

Can’t anything go right here? OK, don’t panic! Just think clearly.

I looked more closely at the door. Originally, I thought it must open outward as many restroom doors on planes and trains were designed to do. On closer inspection, I could see that this door opened inward. How odd! I thought. I looked at the distance between the fire extinguisher wall and the mystery door. I think I can do this! I braced my back against the fire extinguisher wall and kicked the door as hard as I could. Nothing. Ok, ok, don’t give up. If at first you don’t succeed and all that jazz… So, I kicked again and again and again. Well, you get the picture. On the sixth kick, I felt the door give. Just a little. But, I suddenly felt hope. On the eighth kick, the door flew inward and banged loudly against a metal bucket on the floor which promptly flew up in the air, clattered back down to the floor and rolled further into the small room, which I could now see was a sort of janitorial/maintenance room. I searched the room and almost immediately found a small ball peen hammer that was just right for my needs.

Exiting the small room, I felt a brief glimmer of fear that, in all my distraction, the man might have snuck back onto the train car. I carefully peeked out the door and found that I was still alone. For the first time since I woke up on this train, that was a relief.

After breaking the glass with the hammer, I retrieved the axe and, after several tries, managed to break the lock on the door to the engine car. I dropped the axe, pushed quickly through the door and entered the engineer’s cabin, but it was as empty as the rest of the train.

WHAT?!?!?!?!?! There’s no one driving this train? How can I stop it? And it’s still ACCELERATING!

And then the realization hit me. THIS IS A RUNAWAY TRAIN!!!

I looked abruptly at all the knobs and buttons and gadgets and I had no idea how ANY of them worked.

I’m not going to get off this train alive! WAIT! Is there a radio? Oh, what the hell!

I started pushing buttons and twisting knobs. At this point, what harm could I have done? Maybe I’d luck out and hit the brake.

Wait! The brake!

I sat in the engineer’s chair and looked down where my feet were.

Dang it! I guess that would have been too easy. This thing clearly doesn’t drive like a car!

I looked all over the console for anything resembling a radio. If I could just communicate with someone outside this train, they might be able to rescue me. But everything just looked so unfamiliar and alien to me. I stood up to look around the engineer’s cabin to see if I could find anything that would help me.

And then I saw him. Standing in the doorway between the engine car and the train car behind him. He was smiling a wicked grin. My heart sank. My dream of rescue evaporated. I thought of the axe that I’d left on the floor in the train car.

Why didn’t I keep it?! At least I’d be able to fight back.

He just stood and stared at me for so long I lost track of time. It could have been minutes, or hours. In those moments, I knew that all hope was lost. My fate was in his hands. Finally, with a light Italian accent, he spoke.

“I have been waiting for this moment for many years. In fact, I have been groomed for it my entire life. It was always my destiny. And it was always your destiny as well.

If you are thinking you are going to die today, you are correct. It has been planned for many decades by my ancestors, even before you or I were born. Every detail carefully designed, every moment crafted with precision, to ensure that the plan could not fail.

This train is on private land and it was designed to travel much faster than any commercial train currently in operation. It is on automatic pilot. You cannot override the controls and there is no means of communication outside the train. My family spent many years and millions of lira, euros and dollars to acquire the land, and to develop and build this train and the track it traverses. Today, they will watch happily as it all goes…BOOM!”

He paused and watched me for a while longer. Then he spoke again.

“You must be wondering why. Why you? It’s simple. Revenge. My family cannot abide when someone harms any one of us. We will always take vengeance on those who have perpetrated such harm. No matter how much time passes, we do not forget and we do not forgive. An eye for an eye, so to speak.

I am Luca Mastiglione. You did not know him, as I did not know him, but your great-grandmother’s first husband, Frank Mastiglione, was MY great-grandfather’s brother…my great-great-Uncle Frank. My family discovered long ago the treachery of Bertie Rose Lee, how she hastened Uncle Frank’s death and denied him his God-given right to a child, to continue his familial line. His line died with him. And so shall your great-grandmother’s and your mother’s lines die with you. That is our retribution. You have been tried and sentenced and now I will be your executioner.”

He looked out the front window of the engine car and smiled.

“Ah, a beautiful sunrise! You should enjoy it while you can as it will be your last. I will need to take my leave of this train soon. It is fast approaching its final destination. There is a bridge over a deep gorge about ten miles ahead of us. That is where you will die. I will be long gone by then, far enough away so that I will not be harmed in the explosion that will collapse the bridge and send this train hurtling full speed to the bottom of that deep gorge.

You now have a choice. If you stay here, in the engine car, you will die instantly in the explosion. If you move to the caboose at the far end of the train, you will survive the explosion, only to fall to your death at the bottom of the ravine. It is up to you.”

With that, he turned and ran back into the train car and out the other side. At first, I was frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

This is insane! How could this possibly be happening?

Then, suddenly, I sprung into action. I ran into the train car, reached down and grabbed the axe, and continued running.

He has a way OFF this train! I HAVE to find it!

I ran through each train car until I reached the caboose, but I was too late. He was gone. I had no idea how he’d done it, but he did. Then as I turned around, I glimpsed the scenery outside the window. I saw the bridge and gorge. The train was almost there! NO! I had failed. I would die here because of greed. Nan-nan’s greed.

Was it worth it, Nan-nan? HUH? WAS IT WORTH IT?!?!?!?

I sat down…defeated, alone, terrified, but surprisingly calm...and watched as the bridge approached. I felt more than heard the explosion. The train shuddered and then began its descent to the river below. The sunrise reflected beautifully off its slow-flowing waters.