My Grandfather's Train

Can a train kidnap you? I don’t know how it’s possible, but… it was the only explanation that made sense.  

I walked down the platform, marveling at the feat of engineering before me. Trains always fascinated me.

My grandfather used to design and build them. Every Sunday, when we visited for dinner, he regaled us with stories about his favorites. We’d learn of shoofly and humpers, frogs, bogies, and angle bars. He taught us the differences between steam, diesel, electric, and magnetic, from locomotive to caboose. 

Then, he took us to the garage where his custom toy train set-up filled the entire room. We would spend hours changing tracks and creating crazy situations that we had to figure out, like how to make the track circle the mountain or how to go safely through the town. He was the reason I was in college for engineering.

So when I heard his original design was going to be coming through town, I took a day off to go see it. It was being towed, eventually to be on display at the Illinois Railway Museum. 

There was nothing advanced about his train. It was not the first anything. It was not an innovation of engineering or some new technology. But it was… unique.

Shaped much like an airplane without wings, the front driver cab was aerodynamic and sleek. It was painted reflective silver with hot-rod red on the tip of the nose. 

The passenger cars were mostly the reflective silver color, so that when it flew down the country-side, it reflected the green of the trees, practically blending in to the backdrop. Even the connectors and wheels were shrouded in that silver. Only the red of the locomotive front shattered the illusion, looking almost like a ruby adorning the jewel of the train. It was breath-taking, even though the paint currently needed a refresh, as age and the elements had taken their toll.

It was more than looks that made the train special. People who rode it swore there was something other-worldly about it. When it went full-speed, and the scenery blurred, guests claim that they saw another world. 

Experts explained it away as mass-hysteria, but it gathered a cult following. People would travel from all over to experience the “soul-journey.” When the train was retired, fans boycotted for weeks.

Grandfather never spoke about it, but sometimes, there was a gleam in his wrinkled brown eyes. He held secrets in that gleam. When I asked him what was special about the train, he told me that its heart came from the sky. 

I took little stock of it at the time. He would say things like that sometimes. He would lie on a blanket, watching the stars, claiming he was waiting for inspiration to fall from above. My mom told me he was crazy, and I left it at that.

Standing on that platform, looking at his train, I could tell it was special. It connected me to him. I could almost hear his voice and feel his embrace. It called to me, just as he used to do.

I reached out and touched the faded silver paint. A jolt radiated through me. I pulled my hand back from the sting, but something was wrong. 

The platform was spinning. Faces blurred and merged as a wave of nausea hit me. 

I felt a tug in my stomach, like I had a tether being attached around my middle. Then everything went black.

***

When I woke, I was sitting on a slightly reclined bucket chair. The upholstery was straight from the seventies with mustard-brown, orange, and turquoise waves. I looked out the silver-tinted window to my right and saw trees flying by.

It took a minute for the cobwebs to clear. I was on a train. I didn’t remember boarding. I had no ticket, no luggage. No reason to be on a train.

Something was off. It felt familiar… Not just any train.

“Impossible,” I gasped. It was retired and going to a museum. There was no way that I was on that train! His train.

The train rocked with a steady rhythm. A click-clack that mirrored the roaring beat of my heart.

I reached out and touched the window, feeling the crisp chill of the autumn cold leeching in. It was very real.

Bile rose in my throat. How?

I shivered and pulled my cardigan tighter around me. My mind raced with possibilities. Was I kidnapped? Did I climb in by accident and just forget? I shook my head.

I had to find out who was driving this train. They needed to drop me off at a station. Or at least let me use a phone. I already missed my study session with my friends. No one knew where I was. Would mom notice if I didn’t call? Would my friends? Someone had to miss me! Was it already too late?

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. 

Months of anxiety training with my therapist kicked in.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for six. 

In… and out… 

Over… and over… 

Again… and again… 

I could do this.

I stood up and found my footing, rocking with the motion of the train.

I didn’t see anyone else in the other seats in my cabin. 

That’s weird, I thought. 

I shuddered, but kept going.

Cabin after cabin, I walked. I saw no one as I traversed three passenger cabins.

When I reached the front, the engineer cab was locked, and there was no one inside. 

It took a moment for the full impact of the situation to hit me. I was alone on a runaway train.

I stood still for a moment. 

“Think!” 

I tried to engage my brain, but in all my years with my grandfather, I had never seen the layout of the engineer cab. I didn’t know how to stop the train.

The train picked up speed, rocking hard from side to side as it navigated the slight curves of the track.

My eyes spotted the emergency brake, its bright red handle gleaming in the electric lights of the cabin. 

I walked over and pulled as hard as I could.

I heard a small hiss, and the pressure popped in my ears. But nothing happened. The train didn’t slow. 

I tried to force my way into the engineer cab. I jiggled the handle. Tried to pick the lock with a bobby pin. Even tried a solid kick.

I fell backwards when my kick didn’t land right. My foot throbbed, but the door wouldn’t move. 

“I’m not ready to die,” I whispered to the train. “Please… stop.” I placed my forehead against the cool metal door. If the train heard me, it didn’t care.

Great, I’m talking to a train, I thought.

I walked back to a seat as the train picked up speed again. It rocked hard on the rails, threatening to derail at every curve.

The train was going so fast, I no longer saw individual lights out the window. The distant stars that had been the lights of towns became shooting stars. Even the rocking movement had diminished. 

All I could feel was the push of g-forces slamming into my body. I grabbed the row of seats in front of me with both hands, as if holding on would make a difference.

This was it. This was how I would die. I mentally tried to calculate how fast we were going, but I had no frame of reference. Faster than I had ever gone before. At these speeds, with the inevitable crash I knew was coming… at least death would be instantaneous. 

Every instinct told me to buckle up, but as I looked around, I remembered… Trains don’t have seat belts.

Panic set in again. I tried my breathing exercises, but I couldn’t focus past the adrenaline surging through my body. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps.

Something was nagging me. Something felt… wrong.

I cupped my hands around my face and strained to look out the window. It took a moment to figure out what I was seeing.

The light was not blurring past. Impossibly, it was being sucked forward.

And ahead? Complete darkness. Darker than dark.

Faster and faster, until the lights blurred into nothingness. 

I screamed, but nothing came out. 

Sound and light just disappeared. The blackness ahead seemed to eat everything up.

A black hole, I realized. 

Terror ripped through me, and I collapsed forward in my chair, hugging the seat in front of me with a death grip. My teeth chattered, as silent as my scream.

It made little sense. Everything seemed to stretch into nothingness. 

Time, light, energy… matter ceased to exist. 

All was dark.

***

Complete silence surrounded me. When I opened my eyes, it was no longer darkness. The light filtering through the windows had a soft, rosy tinge.

The train hummed a little, like a cat purr that vibrated deep within it. It was happy and content, but I was just confused.

The light was unlike any I had ever seen. A much deeper, more vibrant red than anything on earth.

The thought made me pause. Where was I?

I got up and walked to the door.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A huge red sun took up a third of the sky before me. Its warmth and glow made me feel alive in a way I had never felt before.

I climbed down the steps onto a small stone-like platform. It looked solid, like any rock in our world, but it was slightly springy under my feet. I took a few steps to see over the edge of the soft stone.

It took my breath away. The landscape opened up to a giant ocean hundreds of feet below me. Waves lapped against the shore, soft and gentle. Creatures played in the sea foam. They had long legs—six of them—and they looked like giant gazelles, gracefully dipping their heads under the waves and crying in delight. The sound was musical and flutelike in my ears. 

Small red orbs of light floated past me and through the sky. They looked like fireflies on earth, except they were no bug. Their soft red light brightened and ebbed. One brushed past my cheek and I felt pure laughter and delight in its touch.

A meadow of soft blue grasses spread out to my right and left. I walked towards it, drawn forward in a way I couldn’t explain.

Once I reached the tall grass, I ran through it, dancing and laughing. Such joy and freedom and unreservedness, I haven’t felt since I was a child. And when my body was spent, I laid back and stared at the sky.

The soft grass tickled my body, but I was too mesmerized by what I saw to move. Lights moved and flowed across the sky, much like the Aurora Borealis on earth. Reds and violets. Blues and greens. More vibrant and beautiful than anything I had ever seen.

I laid there for hours, all the while feeling soft laughter and joy emanating from close by. It took me a while before I figured out that the source was the train.

Finally, I walked back and put my hand on its red nose. It had taken me to its home. I knew it came from here. Its energy thrummed in unison with the lights that encircled me.

I felt a sense of peace, deeper than any I had felt before. It was so strong. So relaxing. Tears fell down my face.

There was an immediate lightness in me. I felt as though I could float away like one of those specks of light. Away into eternal peace and happiness.

An image of my grandfather flashed in my eyes, but he was younger. Maybe in his thirties. There was a barrage of images in my mind as he spent hours in the cabin, talking to the train as he built and designed it.

The train was his friend, I realized. It saw my grandfather in me.

“Thank you,” I whispered to it. “He missed you too.”

And I realized it was true. In my grandfather’s last years, all he talked about was this train. Even when all other memories slipped, the train was still a bright flame in his mind.

The spot beneath my hand warmed at my memory, and I got the distinct impression of love. Rather, I saw flashes of images of hearts and smiles, and felt feelings of warmth and joy.

With one last glance at the alien landscape, I climbed back on board. 

I would always treasure this gift the train gave me. It was peace and love, but I was ready to go back through the black hole again. I was ready to go back to the people who loved me.

The train sensed my thoughts, and the engine purred to life again, pulling away from the station with a mighty heave.

***

When I opened my eyes, I was on the platform. My grandfather’s train was before me, ready to be towed to the museum. It pulled from the station, and as it left, I got the distinct impression that it winked at me.