Night train

Every sunset, she sat in a rocking chair, on the porch. After Jim, her husband, died three years ago, she had picked up the habit of smoking his pipe after the day's chores were over. It reminded her of him and somehow, that ritual made up for the absence of his company. From her spot, up in the hill, she could see the sunflower and corn fields all the way to the horizon. The only two buildings in sight were her shed and the old train platform where no train had stopped since she had memory.

Every day, just after the sun hid in the distance, behind the corn fields, an old train, led by a steam locomotive crossed the plain and went by the platform in the valley. Martha watched it go by, while puffing on her pipe and wondered were did it come from and were was it going to. After all, as far as she knew, the line laid across that field led nowhere and finished in the bridge that had fell down, some fourty years back. Stranger still, the train always passed in the same direction and never came back the opposite way.

(Image: Trains by William Gill in br.pinterest.com)

Many times, she dreamt about the train, and day dreamed about making it stop, just out of curiosity of where it was going and who was inside. She especially wanted to see who was the figure that seemed to be at the window, waving, every time the train went by. She tought of many ways to make the train stop. To fell a tree into the rails. To have her sheep cross the line just before the train approached. To go herself, wave a lantern, in the middle of the tracks, just before sun down. Always, she gave up on her plans for fear of the train not stopping and she being blamed for a disaster.

One day, she decided to, at least, get a closer look at the person waving. That would be easy. She would wait for the train sitting in the bench, down in the platform. She was sure to see the figure, whoever it was, from so close by. So, that afternoon, she took her sunset smoke down to the valley. She noticed it got darker earlier, down there, than when she was in the hill, and the train seemed to take longer to arrive. She put down the pipe as she saw the train's light, in the distance, and stood up, searching to see better.

And there came the composition, led by the old steam engine, making it's way towards her, The train seemed to be slower than usual, and she couldn't yet see the figure that usually waved. What she could see were the lights flickering through the windows on the train. And then, something new happened. It began to break and would stop on the platform. Slowing down, the engine huffed and puffed until it came to a full stand still. A door opened on the second car, and someone stretched halfway out. - I can't believe it. Jim!- She almost fainted. -Well... Are you coming?- Of course I am! She said, teary eyed. -Don't forget to bring the pipe.- She picked it up from the bench, went and entered the train.

-All aboard!- someone yelled. And the train, once again set on it's way towards the wrecked bridge over the river...

@hefestus 01.02.25