The Train Station: A Short Story by the Bookworm

This is a great park in a city just nort of Dallas. You can travel to this park on the DART rail system. The park is next to the train stop. A visit there sparked the ideas that lead to this short story.

I have been reduced to riding this train in order to work at a part time job that pays me ¼ of what I was earning. A bar back position is basically my starting over in life. My current “boss” is taking advantage of me. She is insisting that I work five or ten hours a week, off the clock. I can’t do anything about it as long there is a waiting list for any crappy job in this town, part time or otherwise. The only time I am at peace is when I am riding this train. I sit down and watch the world frantically move at a break neck pace . I am watching these two ravens floating in the air outside my window, with buildings and telephone poles racing past them. Suddenly, they fly away to follow some bikers. My stop is coming up. It’s the Fifth stop every time, I don’t even look anymore.

I am the only one to stand up while the world is still moving. No one even looks up. My legs automatically adjust for the train’s movement. The world stops moving. The hiss of the door opening tells me to get off now, and I step off the train. I hear a bell clanging, which is one of several strange sounds that bring me out of my monotony induced stupor. Why am I staring at a steam engine? Crap, I must have missed my stop. I hear the canned voice announce my train’s departure. Great, I am going to be fired.

I have never seen this stop. It looks like a cowboy movie, even has a water tower, and. a saloon-with horses. Wow, the city went all out on this stop. I wonder why they don’t promote it. Who cleans up after the horses poop? Someone does, there are no piles in site. That man looks familiar, the one walking towards me and looking at his pocket watch.

He motions me over and says something just as the steam engine fires up. I yell, “I cannot hear you.”. He makes a follow me sign and walks toward his office, or show office. No A/C, no electric anything, and a telegraph. It’s hot. I could not work here.

He turns and says, “I am the station master. You are right on time and your things are already on the train.” My reply-“You’re mistaking me for someone else.” His retort-“I know who you are.” He hands me a piece of paper on which is my name, my picture, and the details of my life, including things I thought were long buried.

I passed out. Not very manly, but that is what happened. The first thing I see after I open my eyes is the bar in the train’s dining car. I am sitting in one of the booths. The station master is standing over me and the conductor is handing me a glass of brandy. The conductor has this understanding look on his face. He reassures me , “Son, everyone faints. Being here is hard for the mind to accept. Now drink this brandy and let me know how it tastes. We just got this shipment in.” I reassure him that it’s an excellent brandy. The conductor grins and says to the station master, “He is going to be a great head bartender.” I start to protest, but the station master cuts me off with “Do you really want to go back to your old life? Your house is about to be repossessed. Your boss might as well be possessed; and, she was too stupid to recognize your potential. You have a degree in philosophy and all of your hard earned job skills are being handled by machines and Indonesian call centers. The money in your bank account only covers the next service charge. Your own family couldn’t even be bothered to celebrate your birthday today. I can arrange for you to go back; but, we need you to help ease people into the afterlife.”

I think about it. I ask, “I can leave everything behind?”. The station master nods and I start setting up my bar. I wonder what my salary is? As soon as I am finished setting up, my first customer stumbles onto the train. It’s my former boss. The conductor seats her in a booth. Somehow, I know she wants Tennessee Whiskey, neat. I have always had that talent, and it drove her crazy when she had no choice but to use me as a bartender. The drink is ready for her when she finally comes over. She looks at me and says “You are a lousy bartender.” I just smile and she goes to her booth and gets very drunk.

Later I ask the conductor, “Is she really going to heaven?” He laughed and said, “The station master did not tell you where this train is going, did he?” I love my new job. The only thing I miss is air conditioning.