Early Morning Express (1/3)

“What the blazes is all that commotion about out there?” Jane asked as she struggled out of bed.

She slowly opened the door and peeked her head out. At her age, slow was the only speed she had.

A thin fog rolled into her room as she left. The open platform creaked as she shuffled across it in her slippers. The air was steamy and smelled like hot oil. A carriage door was gaping open, so she decided to take a look.

“Sorry, Jane.” The conductor said, “This ride is not for you.”

She threw her hands up in the air and shrugged. “Fine by me, but do you think you could keep it down? I’m trying to get my beauty sleep here—trains chugging through at 3 am put a damper on my deep sleep.”

“I’ll do my best, Miss Jane. We should be moving on shortly. I’m sorry to wake you at such an hour.”

As she turned to go back to her room, a young woman smiled and waved at her from one of the passenger windows. She rolled her eyes, went back to her room, and promptly fell back to sleep.

❦

The following morning was a blur. She did not get her “beauty sleep,” as she liked to call it. Even at 93, she was always fussing about getting good sleep.

“Chuckles, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“Oh yeah? What was it about?” Charles asked as he spooned some cereal in his mouth. Milk dripped down his chin.

She grabbed a napkin and wiped Charles’ face. Silverware clinked against plates in the background.

“I dreamed there was a train station right in the middle of the hall outside my room. When I investigated, the conductor told me, “it was not for me,” so I went back to bed.

“Oh. Speaking of leaving town, did you hear about Lori? She passed. They hauled her off in the middle of the night. She would have turned 97 next week. I swear, we’re living in an alien horror moving where people disappear in the deep of the night.”

“I guess when it’s your time, it’s your time,” Jane said. She knew it was cliché but found it somewhat comforting. “I liked Lori. I enjoyed talking with her. Always proud of her grandkids.”

“Yeah, she was a great gal. Well, I’ve got to get to the men’s water aerobics class. I’ll see you at lunch.” Charles said with half a smile.

Jane scoffed and gave him a half-hearted wave. She thought it was ridiculous that even in their 90s, they were still segregating their swimming by boys and girls.

❦

“Hey, Jane. See any trains lately?” Asked Charles as he sat down.

“Funny.”

Jane glanced across the room and caught eyes with Darla. “Great.” She thought. “Now, she’ll want to sit with us.” Darla was a dancer in New York earlier in life. She would swing her hips back and forth to get the boys’ attention like she thought she was still in her sixties. “Grow up already,” Jane thought. Sure enough, here she swings.

“Can I join y’all for lunch?” Darla asked.

“Absolutely,” said Charles.

Jane threw him a look.

“Whatcha been up to Jane?” Darla asked.

“Awe. Not much. You know me, I like to keep my head down.”

“Tell Darla about your dream.” Charles could hardly contain himself as his leg bounced up and down, shaking the whole table.

Jane threw him another look. “That’s two, mister,” she thought.

“Oh, it was nothing. I just dreamed there was a train in the hall last night. The conductor was dressed in a brilliant white get-up. A woman on the train waved at me through a window. She looked familiar, but I don’t think I knew her. I don’t think it means much; it was just weird. It felt real,” she said.

“I’ve had dreams like that that seem so real, even though I know they’re not. I try not to let them bother me.”

“Watch out, Jane, tonight may be the night you get on the train, and it takes off!” Charles joked.

“Alright, that’s three!” She thought to herself. “Shut up, you old goat and eat your salad,” Jane told him.