On A Train Headed West
5:59 AM IT IS DARK outside as I wait to board the train. Though it is dark, I am able to tell that the air is heavy and dense with fog. It seems that great changes are about to take place. I can hear muted voices and screams coming from inside the train station, and I can sense tumultuous activity in there. I am terribly afraid to go in; I have never been in a train station before. I have been standing out here comfortably for quite some time now and I would be content to stay here for as long as they will let me. But I cannot. There is an unexplainable momentum or force of some kind at work against me, and that which compels me to go inside remains a mystery. 6:14 AM As I come closer to the station, I am aware of great excitement and movement inside. It is very warm out here, but I can feel the cold coming from inside that place. The cold is overpowering, and somehow I believe that everyone in there is waiting for me, though I do not know why. I am sure that I will feel like a stranger in a foreign land when I go inside. It feels as though they are reaching for me somehow, trying to pull me in, but I would rather remain out here. 6:20 AM As I approach the entrance to the station, I am momentarily stunned by the brightness coming from inside the door; I have never seen light so bright and overwhelming. As I suspected, there are several people waiting for me, though I cannot make out any faces. This I cannot do because of the light, and, the cold, I have never been this cold before. It is all too much. I step into the train station, or rather am pulled into it. The brightness and the noise at once overcome me, noises that I have never before heard and cannot describe. Strangers are all around me, surely people who I have never seen before nor will again, but still I am greeted with great pomp and circumstance, and, it appears, with some relief that I have arrived. Relief for them, it appears, but not for me. This cold is the worst thing I have ever experienced. I want nothing less than to leave this station, but I cannot. 6:39 AM After I have been processed, I am led to the terminal from which I will board the train. People in uniforms, speaking things that I cannot understand, surround me. They seem to be talking to each other, not to me. I try to communicate with them, but for reasons unknown to me, I am not able. I want to know what my destination will be, but I cannot create the words to ask the questions. This is all very much like a dream. The light from inside the station is behind me now; I have left the station and entered the terminal, but out here it is still dark, though the first rays of pre-morning light are beginning to appear overhead. It is still cold. 6:55 AM I stand now at the terminal gate, and wait. 6:58 AM I know that a train will soon draw near, filled with passengers who, though I am ignorant of their identities, I am nonetheless afraid of. I still do not know what lies ahead, or where this train or I are headed. In the distance, I can see smoke on the horizon and feel the train upon the ground. Behind the train the morning sun can be seen protruding from behind the clouds. The horn of the approaching locomotive creates a sound that is not altogether unpleasant, as it signals the approach of the vessel by which I will begin my journey. Though I am not sure if I am afraid of the journey itself, or of the uncertainty in which it is shrouded, I am sure that I can not turn back. 7:05 AM The train advances toward the station, gradually becoming larger as it draws closer. It pulls into the terminal slowly, releases the air from its brakes, then comes to a halt, gently rocking on the rails of the tracks. The squealing of the brakes is loud as the smoke and steam rise and escape the locomotive, behind which there are several cars. How many there are I cannot count, but I find it odd that there is no caboose… 7:13 AM The door opens. I turn around to the people in strange uniforms, but they have all departed as cryptically as they had appeared. From where I am standing now I cannot see anyone or anything inside the train, only the open door before me. The sky, which was only a few moments ago cloudy and dark, is beginning to clear and brighten just a little. With bated breath, I step forward. Again I look behind me, but there is no one there. A strange uncertainty is my only companion as I begin my journey. Turning back toward the train, I ascend to the first step. 7:20 AM To my relief, it is warm inside the train. I walk up the last two steps, and I am in the locomotive. 7:22 AM As I stand inside the train, the conductor greets me. He looks strangely…like me. I ask him what my destination will be. He replies "I do not know. The course has not yet been charted". To which I reply: "You are navigating this train. Have the tracks not been laid? What will guide us as we go forward"? He only smiles and turns away from me, going back to his work. This confuses me, but it occurs to me that this will not be the last time that I that will be confused on this journey. 7:31 AM The ground shakes with a terrific roar as the conductor starts the locomotive. Smoke billows from the smokestack, and the wheels again begin to turn slowly, first rocking gently backward, then slowly forward. The train moves along its tracks, slowly at first, then gradually gaining speed. Though I cannot see the tracks in the distance, I am not frightened. 7:40 AM I go into the first car of the train, and take my seat near the window. The walls are colorful, and the air is warm, and though I am still somewhat cold, I no longer have the unpleasant feeling that I had only a while ago. In fact, it is quite pleasant in here. The passengers are few in number, but they seem somehow familiar…There are several small children in here, along with doctors, policemen, teachers, and - strangers. The strangers I try to avoid. Looking out of the window, I can see that the ground is flat and bare, but the scenery becomes rich as we go forward. The sun has escaped the clouds and provided light so that I can see more clearly. I can see saplings, and short grass, very green, and tiny flowers. Caterpillars and bees and other insects swarm around the budding flowers, transporting the stamens of this flower to the stigmas of that flower, and the process is repeated time and again. Fawns feed on the young vegetation, while full-grown deer hover over them. The surroundings outside seem to suggest that it is early spring, as everything is new and full of life. These common sights strangely fascinate me, and I focus on them as if they are mysterious things that I have never seen. I am overtaken with a feeling of complacency. 8:02 AM As the train continues to travel through the countryside, I become aware that I have no control over its course. This is of no great consequence to me now; I am willing to go in whichever direction the conductor takes me, but I think that soon that will change, and I will want to try my own hand at navigating. The morning is bright, and full of life. The air inside the train begins to become warmer. The children in the car are happy, and the railroad car has an atmosphere of exuberance and life that only young children can bring to it. It feels to me that the conductor is protecting me. The strangers in the room, though, make me uncomfortable. 8:31 AM For the most part, the train travels smoothly on the track. Occasionally, I feel a jolt or a bump, but these are not important, since someone is guiding the train for me… 8:49 AM Again I look out of the window, and I can see that the flowers are now in full bloom, the fawns have become bucks and does, and the green grass has become tall. The sun is still shining brightly and quickly gaining on us, and the clouds have disappeared. In here the children still laugh and play, but the strangers have become greater in number. I am nonetheless content in this car, but I get up and move to the car behind it, because it seems as though that is what I am supposed to do. As I walk through the door, I see that the walls in here are not as colorful and bright. There is not as much laughter, though there are still children, but they are older and, to my dismay, there are more strangers. 9:31 AM I take a seat by the window and suddenly feel uncomfortable. Once again, I feel the sting of all eyes upon me that I felt when I entered the terminal. I will want to leave this car as quickly as possible, but I fear that I will have to wait. I see more children, some look familiar; others do not. I feel a growing urge to navigate this train, but I will have to wait for that. The scenery outside is changing some. I no longer see flowers and deer, but I do see many trees, it looks like we are traveling through a forest. Occasionally I can see a path in the trees, but where they lead is unknown to me. On some of these paths I see what appear to be people traveling, sometimes alone, and sometimes with others… 10:02 AM In this boxcar I can see many relationships develop which will not last. Boys fall in love with girls that they will soon forget, while girls gossip about the boys who will soon forget them. Children begin to pull away from parents unwilling to let them go, and begin to experiment with new things, some of which they will later regret. 10:59 AM The time spent in this car seems to drag on without end, and strangers, whose activity begins to become more mysterious and unsettling, surround me. Unexpectedly there is a terrific jolt in the train, which is followed by great confusion and excitement among the passengers, including myself. This will be the critical juncture of the trip, I think. The car that I am in, indeed the entire train, begins to sway violently from side to side. Items are knocked off of tables and from walls by the inertia, and the passengers recoil in terror. The boxcar leans too far to the left, and the wheels on the right side of the train lift off of the tracks. The wheels of the left side slide off, emitting sparks as the metal grinds, and then the left side of the train slides off the rails of the tracks. It appears that the train has jumped the track, though I am not sure what the cause of the crash was, nor what its effects will be. It is not clear to me how to handle this catastrophe, though I feel somehow responsible it, and for the first time, I panic. 11:23 AM Through great effort of the passengers of this car, and to a small degree my own efforts, the train is gradually, slowly, systematically placed back on the tracks, though they are new tracks set on a different path. The effects of the impact are gradually lessened. The passengers of this car soon forget the incident and move one. 12:01 PM It is now noon, and as a result of the crash, I have been thrust into the next car. The day is bright, and I begin to understand things that I could not have understood before. I have a feeling that my journey is about to begin… 12:10 PM I am now in the fourth car. From the window, I see some of the travelers that I saw from the windows of the previous car who had embarked on the different paths of the forest, which we’ve now escaped. Though the countryside through which we travel is open and uninhibited, full of opportunities and new paths, some of the travelers appear lost, as if they had taken a wrong turn or went down an entirely wrong path. The caterpillars that I saw before have transformed into reluctant butterflies. The sun is directly over the train now. The unbearable cold has been replaced by increasingly unbearable warmth. Inside the car, newly created relationships become apparent, while old ones are destroyed or forgotten. I now have more control in creating some of these, but I feel guilty for tearing down some. At this point, it seems that entire lives are being restructured, families torn apart, children have been lost. Tears of grief contradict those of joy. Outside it begins to rain, only a little at first, but gradually harder and faster. I am concerned that the rain will impede my pilgrimage, that the conductor will lose control and again jump the track. But my fears are laid to rest - I am now in control of this train. 12:59 PM I am now able to control my journey. I take suggestions from others concerning where this train goes, but the decisions are mine to make. It has become increasingly obvious that the crash was a necessary obstacle, as it has put this train on a solid track and me firmly in control of it. The course that I select is replete with obstructions, but I am able to maneuver through them in such a way that they cannot stop me. I am able to cut through mountains and molehills, over streams and rivers, across bridges that did not exist only moments before I reached them. When necessary, I can steer away from roadblocks and through storms that may have stopped other trains in their tracks. I can navigate through barren deserts, with assistance from some passengers in this car of course, and I can travel though the densest forest and the heaviest fog. I press on unimpeded by the most oppressive downpours and storms. Even a hurricane could not remove me from these tracks. I am sure that the conductor could not do better. 1:58 PM My entire journey has been leading up to this point I think: I am now in charge of the journeys of others. I can see myself in them, their progress contributes to my own progress, and this is rewarding in ways that can hardly be put into words. I hope that they will take the knowledge from the experiences we share, and bestow it onto others in time. I do not rush them towards this goal, merely offer guidance, and allow them to make mistakes, which I hope will lead to successes. Simple though it may seem, it is a natural and unbreakable cycle. 2:31 PM Now the conductor comes to visit my car. I greet him warmly. "It is good to see you again". "I am happy to see that you are doing so well, and have come so far," he says, "but I have come to tell you that I must leave now". I am troubled by this, and a little afraid. "Why are you leaving?" I ask. "I still need your guidance. Are you not still in control of this train"? He smiles. "I am no longer in control this train," he says. "I have showed you how to do it, and you have done well. I trust that you will do a fine job". "But what about the passengers on this train, what if I let them down?" I ask with desperation in my voice. He replies: "Do not worry. Once I had the same fears as you have now, but I had excellent supervision, as I hope I have provided to you. Remember what I told you when we first met: your path has not been charted. You have now charted that path, and no longer need me. You will in time pass this knowledge onto others". I try to convince him to stay, that I am not ready yet, but my attempt is in vain. He does not listen. 2:37 PM The conductor leaves the train, and, curiously, it does not stop… I am deeply saddened. 4:22 PM I am becoming aware that there are fewer strangers on board. 4:24 PM Suddenly I realize that I too will eventually have to depart this train. Along the way, we experience more jolts and bumps, but most are easily controlled. The journeymen that I lead can see these obstacles and will learn how to keep them from happening when it is their time to navigate. Though I am making progress, I can feel myself being dragged or pulled towards the back of this car. As certain as the sun has risen and followed me, I must move closer to the end of this car and to the next car on this train. Though I am less frightened then before, I am a little uneasy about the next phase of this trip. I have accomplished so much, and I hesitate to move on. Strangers are watching me. 4:29 PM I walk to the end of this car, and stand at the entrance of the next. I am beginning to feel tired from the day’s adventures, so I go inside and quickly take my seat. Out of the window I can see trees, only now they have become old and infirm, and many have begun to wither as they hover over fallen branches and leaves. The deer have become slower and older it appears, and the fields which once were full of lush green grass are now bare. The sun will soon set where the sky meets the earth at the horizon. The atmosphere in this train car is much different than that of the others. There are no children, the passengers are older, and I can sense an overwhelming sadness in here that makes me uncomfortable. There are few strangers present, but the ones who are here do not bother me. I begin to feel a little afraid for the first time. 4:42 PM I am approaching the end of this trip, and my work for the most part is done. I stand up, and walk to the end of the car, and look at the car behind me, which I am not able to see inside of. I turn around, take one last look out of the window, and one more inside the boxcar, the turn back around, and proceed. I am fearful of this next step, and I would like to stay here, but I cannot. There exists an unexplainable momentum drawing me out of this car and into the next. 4:50 PM I step into the next car, and for a moment I am alone. I am very tired, so I take a seat at the only table. Again people in uniforms, speaking things that I cannot understand greet me. I think they have arrived to prepare me for my departure. 5:11 PM To the women in front of me, I say that I am not ready to leave. There are paths that I have not explored, untraversed fields and plains. There are mountains and valleys I need to navigate, I have laid tracks that I have not yet traveled. They smile warmly to me, and tell me that all will be okay. Again, I say that I am not ready and do not want to get off of the train. I protest, but again they tell me kindly that I must be prepared. 5:30 PM I resign myself to this eventuality, but I would like to say goodbye to the journeymen, who look so much like me, who I have trained, and to give final advice before I depart. In vain I search for them; they are nowhere to be found. 5:41 PM The kind women help me to my feet, lifting me by the elbows, one at each arm, and walk me to the door of the car. The train has slowed considerably now, and outside of the windows I can see that it has grown dark, and the darkness begins to permeate the train, slowly enveloping myself and the gentle women. 5:47 PM I am regretful that the journeymen are not here with me… 5:49 PM I try to say my good-byes to the women in uniforms, but I cannot create the words to say these things to them. I think they understand. I am thankful for their kindness to me, but my journey has reached its end, and now I must depart. In truth, though, I do not know where the journey has taken me, but I am a little grateful that it is over now. The train comes to a stop. 5:52 PM I stand now at the door of the boxcar, and wait. 5:55 PM The door opens with an ominous sliding noise and cold air enters the cabin. Nothing but darkness is visible outside, but I am no longer afraid. With courage, I descend the first step. 5:57 PM I look behind me, and the kind women in uniforms are no longer there; this is not a surprise to me however, I am aware that this phase of the journey will be carried out with no one’s help. I turn back toward the open door, and take the final two steps. Outside of the train, I am greeted by an eerie silence, and by the punishing cold that I had experienced before boarding the train. Nevertheless, all is calm, and I feel at peace out here. I hope that I have navigated the train on a true course, and the other passengers will arrive safely at their destinations. I turn around slowly to face the train, and I see the red caboose from which I have just departed gradually pulling away, and then it is gone. 5:59 PM The ride is over, and the air is heavy and dense with fog.
Copyright © 2003 R Campbell |