Midnight Train

“Come on, Cam! Mandatory midnight training session!” Joe called.

Cameron got up from the curb outside the high school and hurried over to the yellow sports car. He couldn't remember why he’d been sitting there. It was dark out. He climbed into the passenger seat. Inside it was like a minivan. His basketball teammates were all seated all around wearing bright orange jerseys. There was a box of pizza being passed around and music playing, but every time Cameron tried to focus on the song it changed.

He looked over at Joe who was clutching the steering wheel. It didn’t look like a version of Joe that should be driving. He had braces like he’d had back in seventh grade.

They were driving down city streets, buildings streaking by in blurs of color. Big towering buildings like in New York City, not the kind you’d see in Frankfort, Kentucky. But Cameron knew that’s where they were, the streets of their hometown, headed for the city limits.

They crossed a wobbly bridge that connected two cliffsides. Cameron felt a lurch of fear, but everyone else was laughing. And Joe seemed unconcerned.

Everyone in the vehicle began singing the school fight song:

“Oh, let’s go, hornets!

Win! Fight! Fly high!

Sting! This is our nest!

Sting until they die!”

Suddenly they arrived at the edge of a field. Everyone clambered out of the car and rushed forward.

The field grasses towered above the boys’ heads. One at a time each of Cameron’s teammates disappeared into the dark wavering wall, until only he and Joe remained.

Joe had a sly grin on his face. He turned and said, “Don’t be late, Cam! If you are, coach will make you run sprints until you puke!”

Then Joe darted into the curtain of grass just as the others had.

Cameron paused. This had happened before. What came next? He couldn’t remember, but he didn’t want to be alone so he entered the field. The sounds of laughter and voices calling out to one another led him deeper and deeper. The grass pressed against him from all sides as he lumbered forward. Then all at once he emerged into the open air.

His teammates all stood in a semi-circle. The moon shone brightly. It reflected off metal surfaces on the ground. Two long rails that stretched as far as he could see to his left and right. Train tracks. Cameron felt a tug of fear once again.

“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!” his teammates chanted, not at him, but around him.

“Chicken, it is!” shouted Joe. “Cam and Sawyer, you’re up first!”

The others pushed Cameron and a short blonde boy out onto the tracks.

Cameron could hear a whistle in the distance, then the chugging of the engine, and then the whining of the wheels. The train appeared. A light flooded his vision. Then the circle of light morphed into slitted eyes and a chuckling mouth. It got closer and closer until the light nearly swallowed him.

He glanced to his side. Sawyer was gone. Oh no! Had he waited too long? He dove to his left and crashed to the ground just as the train went careening across the place he’d just been standing.

“Cam! Cam! Cam!” his teammates shouted.

Cameron couldn’t help but grin even though he felt shaken and unsettled.

“Who’s next? Cam, you pick!” said Joe.

“You and Reese,” Cameron said automatically, unsure of where the words came from.

“Alright,” Joe said casually as he waltzed onto the already empty tracks. The team shoved a tall skinny boy onto the track beside him.

Once again the sounds of a train approaching filled Cameron’s ears.

He watched enraptured as a train with smoke trailing from its edges rushed toward Joe and Reese. Closer and closer it encroached. Cameron held his breath.

The light from the train seemed to engulf the two boys in fire. Reese waited an admirable amount of time and then rocketed out of danger.

Having won, Joe readied himself to follow suit. He leapt into the air, but then was yanked harshly down to the ground. His shoelace was caught on the crosstie.

Panic surged through Cameron’s body. “Joe!” he screamed. He rushed forward but there was no time. He caught Joe’s frightened eyes with his as the train came within inches of Joe’s trapped leg.

And then a deafening scream of pain pierced the night.

Cameron screamed too in horror and anguish.

Then hands were shaking him.

“Wake up, Cam!”

Cameron opened his eyes. His bedroom was a collection of shadows cast by hallway light. His mother held tight to him and looked at him with sorrowful eyes.

“Cam –” his mom whispered.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Cameron said quickly, wiping the sheen of sweat he could feel cooling on his forehead.

“Sweetheart –”

“I said I’m fine!” Cameron exclaimed.

His mom let go of his shoulders. “We’ll talk in the morning.” She moved to the doorway and cast a final glance at him before closing his bedroom door behind her.

Cameron laid back, eyes boring into the dark ceiling as tears streamed down his temples.

Why did he pick Joe? Why didn’t he pick someone else? Why did they play that stupid game? Why did he have to keep reliving the worst moment of his life over and over? Why?

***

“Where are you going, Cam?”

“Out.”

“Don’t you think you should stay in and study?” his mom pressed.

He shrugged. Of course he should, but he couldn’t. He’d always been a good student but his ability to focus had been deteriorating for months. Studying, sitting still, quiet, he couldn’t bear any of it.

“Well, sit. You need to eat breakfast,” his mom directed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Sit.”

Cameron sighed and sank into a chair at the counter. His mom slid him a plate of french toast. His favorite. At least it used to be. He picked up a fork and hacked at a slice, occasionally forcing down a bite.

“Cam,” his mom began, “I really think you need to try talking with someone again. Last night was the fourth night in a row. Clearly things are getting worse, not better.”

He’d attended sessions with a therapist and gotten medications from a psychiatrist. None of it helped. “I don’t want to talk to anyone.”

“Mark has called to check on you, said to remind you he’d love to meet with you,” his mom said.

Mark was the youth pastor at the church they attended. Well, the church his mom attended. Cameron hadn’t been at a service or youth group meeting since the night of the accident.

Cameron sat in silence and put his fork down.

“The last thing I want to do is put more pressure on you, sweetheart,” his mom said gently. “But if your grades keep slipping the university will probably withdraw their scholarship offer.”

“Maybe I don’t care. Maybe I don’t want to go to college or ever play basketball again,” Cameron said.

“Oh, Cam.” his mom said with so much sympathy it made him feel unbearably pathetic.

He stood. “Thanks for breakfast,” he mumbled. Then he turned his back on her and walked out the front door.

He hopped into the used sedan his grandfather had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday and backed out of the drive. He wasn’t sure where he was going. He usually didn’t. He might end up at a park or downtown at the capitol building, but sometimes he just kept driving.

At a long red light he checked his phone. There was a message from Shelby: Still alive?

He didn’t know how to answer. But he scrolled up a bit to the address she’d sent a few months ago. He clicked it and the GPS map appeared. Fifty-three minutes. A car horn honked behind him. He clicked “GO”.

***

Cameron parked his car across the street from a pale gray house with green shutters. Why had he come here? He should just leave before anyone noticed him. What had he been thinking? If his mom saw he’d gone all the way to Lexington she’d be beside herself.

Then he heard a familiar thumping.

He looked out his car window to see a teenage boy dribbling a basketball. The boy paused, lifted the ball to his cheek, and sent it flying. The ball ricocheted against the sides of the rim and then slipped through the embrace of the net. The boy’s movements to collect the ball were clumsy and strained.

Joe.

Cameron watched as Joe shot three more times. He didn’t miss a shot. Something had stayed the same.

Suddenly Joe turned and caught sight of Cameron sitting in his car spectating. Joe tilted his head to the side and then called out, “Cam? Is that you?”

Cameron’s palms were slick with sweat as he climbed out of his car and shuffled across the street.

“Hey, Joe.” Cameron said awkwardly and timidly.

Joe just stared at him, expressionless. Then his face broke into a wide grin. “Hey, stranger! Thought maybe you’d been abducted by aliens or something.”

“I wish,” Cameron chuckled halfheartedly.

“I mean I know I’m not right down the street like I used to be, but it’s not like I moved to California, dude.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Joe. I just thought it might be better if –” Cameron trailed off.

“If what?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“I get it, you’re just sick of me embarrassing you with my superior shooting,” Joe joked. “Even with a prosthetic foot I’m still the better shot. You’re just lucky I’m slow now.”

“I’m sorry, Joe,” Cameron blurted. “I’m so sorry, man.”

“For what? For this?” Joe lifted his prosthetic foot and tilted it side to side. “This isn’t your fault, Cam. We were being dumb. And I was an idiot for not tying my stupid shoes.”

“But I picked you,” Cameron said exasperatedly.

“And I picked you,” said Joe nonchalantly.

“But I’m okay and you’re not!” Cameron exclaimed. “I can still play and you can’t! I got a stupid scholarship that should be yours!”

“Are you ‘okay’, Cam?” Joe asked with concern.

“What?”

“Reese comes over a couple times a month and he’s told me you’re struggling, dude. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. You can’t blame yourself for what happened out on those tracks.”

Cameron stared at Joe, dumbfounded. “How can you say that? You should be angry with me. Your foot is missing, man! And it’s my fault!”

“Nah, dude. I’m not mad at you and I don’t blame you.”

“I can’t accept that!”

“Listen, Cam. No offense, but I’ve had the more difficult part to accept. You know, the fact that I’m now missing one of my parts. But I have accepted it. And it’s time for you to do the same. Now come on, let’s shoot some hoops.”

Joe hobbled across the driveway and then chucked the ball at Cameron.

Cameron’s reflexes hijacked his reeling brain and he caught the ball.

A door to the house opened and a teenage girl appeared. She took in the scene before her and raised an eyebrow. “Ah, so you are alive,” Shelby, Joe’s sister, said with a smirk.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Cameron replied.

“Come on, stop blushing and shoot the ball!” Joe teased.

Shelby laughed.

Cameron glared at Joe, but then laughed too. He lifted the ball, extended his arm, and released.

***

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!” Cameron’s mom exclaimed as he walked in the door.

It was after eleven o'clock, he should have called or texted but his mind had been elsewhere.

“I went to see Joe,” Cameron replied.

His mom stared at him in shock.

Cameron walked to her and embraced her. Then he stepped back and peered into her eyes. “I’m going to be okay, Mom.”

A smile tugged her lips and he could see a seed of hopefulness bloom in her eyes.

“I’ll text Mark and maybe we can schedule another session with the therapist?” Cameron said.

His mom nodded. Relief flooding her expression. “Of course, sweetheart!”

“Thanks, Mom. I mean it.” Cameron said as he moved toward the stairs. “And now I’m going to get some sleep.”

***

Cameron was sitting on the curb at night again. No yellow sports car appeared. But there was a rumbling underground and suddenly a set of train tracks broke out onto the surface.

He could hear a train rumbling along the track. A light grew from a pinpoint to a big golden circle. This train pulled in slowly and stopped in front of him. A passenger car door slid open.

Cameron stood, took a deep breath, and climbed aboard.