The Return Express

Seventy-three-year-old Charlie Harkins waits in line, his ticket in hand. The black smoke billowing out of the train’s smokestack blends seamlessly with the starless night beyond. Snow falls on all the hopeful passengers, all clutching to heavy coats and jackets, attempting to ward off the cold. Charlie steps forward as the line moves ahead and he glances down at his old watch. Charlie, who feels the chill radiating through his bones, is anticipating a warm train car. It’s been a long time since Charlie has been home, and Christmas Eve seems like the best time to make it back, surprising everyone with his return.

Finally, Charlie trundles up to the counter. The woman behind it asks to see his ticket, and he hands it to her. She checks the information on the ticket and reads aloud mostly to herself; “Destination: Black’s Grove, Pennsylvania, December 24, 1949, Train Car D, Good for One Passenger.” She looks down at her papers and then nods at him with an assuring, but sad smile. He turns and continues up the steps and onto the train. He looks down at his ticket and up at the cabins until he comes to his number, 412, and opens the door. He steps inside to find the cabin warm and inviting, slides the door shut, and sits on the bench seat.

“Well, old boy, we’re finally going home.” He says to himself, removing his shoes and leaning back into the seat, hands behind his head. He leans to one side and gingerly pulls his old and battered leather wallet out of his back pocket and flips it open. The faded black and white image of Lena smiles up at him, a smile that he can only revisit in this well-worn photograph. She had moved on two years earlier, leaving Charlie to face the world alone. He weathered, just as he had always done. It was as he was looking at the photograph of his dead wife that the panicking thought hit him for the first time.

Where had he been?

He put the wallet away and stared at the ceiling, trying to remember. Oddly, he couldn’t remember anything past waiting in line at the train station. Where was he even coming from? The question teased him, skittering around his mind like a mouse inside a wall. Was he going senile? Charlie had to admit that he was never the sharpest tool in the shed, but this was something else entirely. He got up from the bench seat when the train let out a loud whistle and then jolted to life, moving towards the destination.

Towards home.

And that’s all that mattered in the end.

After a few moments he decided to leave his cabin walk around the train a bit. It was oddly quiet, save for the rumbling of the wheels on the track. He soon met another older gentleman who briskly walked by him and didn’t even meet his eyes. Several more people he met didn’t seem to notice him. He thought about going back to his car to avoid these rude strangers when someone tugged on his jacket. He looked down to see a little girl, possibly nine years old. She was wearing a red dress and her blonde hair was in pigtails.

“You’re coming to Philadelphia, too?” She asked. Charlie looked around for an accompanying adult but saw none.

“No dear, I’m actually heading to Black’s Grove, but it’s nearby.” He said. She studied him for a moment.

“You’re not like the others, and I didn’t see you when we got on board in Grand Central Station.”

“I must have boarded at a station after New York.” He told her, confused because he thought the train was nearly empty when he had boarded only moments earlier. He didn’t know where he had boarded from, but he knew for a fact the little snowy outpost in the middle of nowhere wasn’t in New York City. He surely would have remembered stopping in Grand Central station.

What was going on here? He thought, feeling the rising panic settle upon him again.

“You have parents on board?” He asked her, changing the subject, and she shook her head.

“I’m going back home to see them.” She said confidently. “I’ve been away for quite a while, living with my grandmother. They’re going to be so excited to see me.”

Before he could remark on how peculiarly similar both their situations were, the train’s brakes began to screech, bringing it to a sudden stop. Charlie braces himself against the wall and peeks outside the window but sees only the snowy darkness beyond. The train whistle blows, and he looks down to the girl. She wishes him a good day and leaves, though their strange meeting has left him with more questions than answers. He begins to feel uneasy again and goes to find someone with the train service to get some straight answers. Charlie follows a growing crowd of people toward the exit of the train and sees one of the staff standing outside the doors. He steps outside and as he does so, he finds himself suddenly alone in a snowbank. Turning back to get back on the train, he finds that he is standing outside the train station.

The Black’s Grove train station.

“How…?” He wondered aloud, standing dumbfounded amidst a crowd of people jostling around him. He could still see the train and the smoke billowing out from the engine, but he has no recollection of speaking to the conductor.

Now he knew he was losing his mind. His heart began to pound as he glanced around at the familiar landscape, not understanding how he had arrived here. Several cars cruised by on the snowy road in front of him, their tires kicking up snow as they went. He checked his watch and managed to make out the time.

7:39.

The only good thing about this whole situation was that he was back home. Home at last after all this time. And because he was home, he knew exactly where he was to go first. His son Robert’s house. As he walked, he felt the sudden compulsion to pull out his wallet again and look at his wife’s picture. Had she still been here, she would have kept him straight. With her still by his side, he wouldn’t have found himself in this peculiar mess.

He trundles down Main Street towards Willow Avenue, where Robert lives, weaving around the other pedestrians. Everyone these days are so much in their own heads that they can’t be bothered to at least move aside for a struggling old man in the ice and snow. Up ahead he sees a familiar face. George Burton, the barber was standing across the busy street talking with a police officer. Charlie meanders as best he can around the passersby and steps to the edge of the sidewalk.

“George!” He calls out to him over the din of the crowd and passing vehicles. George doesn’t even look in Charlie’s direction, so Charlie steps off the curb.

“George! Geor—” He attempts again, but the sight and sound of an oncoming truck catches his attention, and he slides backwards, falling into a snowbank behind him as the truck speeds by, not even touching the brakes.

“Sheesh!” He grumbles, picking himself up out of the snow, feeling stupid for stepping out into the road. It was his own stupid fault, he guessed, as he patted himself off and decided he’d be better off to speak to George some other time. He was mulling over the entire ordeal in his mind when he came to Willow Avenue. Looking both ways, he crossed over to the side where Robert’s house was on and, haphazardly navigating another snowbank, got onto the icy sidewalk.

If I keep on like this, I’m going to break something, then I’ll have more problems than just my memory. He thinks, taking slow and careful steps until he sees Robert’s two-story white house up the street. He walks through the snow, the feeling in his feet starting to fade as the cold settles through his thick boots. He trudges up the long walkway, past the wrought iron gate that was still leaning, (he told Robert to fix that before he got back) feeling his heart pounding dangerously in his chest. He stops.

The windows were blacked out.

Where had everyone gone? He thought to himself. There was only one last place to check, and it was just a street away. His son Terrance.

He stumbles through the snow, yet again, wishing now that he had just ruined the surprise of him coming back and calling ahead for a warm car ride. Soon Charlie could just make out his youngest son’s house and was relieved to see it brightly lit. He slogs onward, and soon he can make out people inside. As he reaches the small wooden gate leading up to the tiny house, he can already see the smiling faces of his family, his two sons, Terrance and Robert sitting at the kitchen table, their wives at their sides, all drinking wine and laughing. His panic falls away as he moves closer and closer and finally reaches the front gate. He walks up the walkway and sees something jet around the corner of the house, causing his heart to skip a beat. He smiles when he sees Riley, Terrance’s chocolate Labrador retriever. Riley jumps up on him excitedly, his tail wagging, causing his whole body to wag along with it. Riley’s muzzle has whitened considerably since the last time Charlie saw him, but Riley seems to still be the same excitable dog he had always been.

“Down, boy, down.” Charlie whispers, laughing as the dog jumped up and licked his face. He made his way around the dancing dog and finally made it up to the front step where Riley sat beside him, tail still thumping in the thick snow. Charlie lifts his hand to knock, but as he does so, he feels Riley paw his leg. He looks down and the dog is now looking at him with a meaningful look. He whimpers. Charlie pats him on the head and goes to knock again, but Riley paws him a second time. Charlie ignores the dog this time and proceeds to knock.

Nothing happens.

Charlie knocks louder. He listens, hearing his own knocking, and notices that they aren’t listening to loud music, and in fact, Charlie can hear them laughing about something. He pounds, this time, almost angrily. He hears a chair being pushed away from the table and he steps back as footsteps approach the door. He smiles and holds out his arms as his son Terrance opens the door. Terrance stands in the doorway, looking right at Charlie, but his face doesn’t show a sign of surprise or shock. He doesn’t show any sign of anything really. He seems to be looking around Charlie, or through him, at the outside. Terrance looks down to see Riley sitting there and moves out of the way for the dog, but he remains seated by Charlie’s side.

“Suit yourself.” Terrance says and looks around one more time, an odd expression on his face as he closes the door, leaving Charlie standing there with his arms outstretched. He lowers them, numb.

What just happened?

What’s going on here?

Was this some kind of joke?

Was this a dream?

A nightmare?

He prepares to pound again, thinking about breaking the door down if he must, but the paw hits his leg yet again. He looks down to see Riley whimpering now. He barks and then begins to run off down the pathway.

“Where are you going?” He calls after the dog and watches as he disappears into the night beyond the front gate. Charlie feels the need to follow the dog, and though he has lost sight of him, he can hear his barks echoing through the night.

“Riley! Get back here!” He calls out, following the dog up and around the street, towards the old churchyard. He stops at the open cemetery gates and catches his breath. The dog is inside the gate and is wagging his tail excitedly.

“I’m not going to chase you all over town.” Charlie said, grumpy now as he steps over the snowbank and beyond the gate.

The dog bounds playfully away, taking him further and further into the cemetery. The dog stops at a nearby stone. A familiar stone. He notices Riley has stopped near Lena’s grave and his breath catches. He staggers over in the snow, his breath coming in heaving gasps and fogging up in his face as he takes off his cap and puts it to his chest as he approaches the gravestone, his hands shaking.

The sight of Lena’s tombstone always stilled his heart, but this night it also caught his breath.

The name Charlie Harkins is inscribed on the stone beside his wife’s name, as it did before on the wide, dual sized tombstone the two had chosen to be their marker, but the date of death on the stone had been carved in.

The date was today, December 24th, 1949.

Charlie takes a staggering step back.

“No,” he gasps, his foot slipping and sending him to the ground.

“No, no, no!” This had to be some sort of trick of the light. A momentary lapse of sanity. He had to be going mad. This couldn’t be so.

This couldn’t be so.

He falls backwards into the thick snow, trying to put as much distance between him and the lie on that cold tombstone.

Tears begin to well in his eyes as a warm hand falls gently upon his shoulder. He turns and the cold numbness he felt swells instantly into sheer joy at the sight of the smile he thought he would never see again. Lena was standing above him in the snow. She helped him up and brought him into a hug, and with it, the entirety of his being felt a warmth run through it as though he was home again, sitting beside the fireplace, the two of them as they always did on the cold winter nights. Riley sat nearby, his tail thumping against the ground, looking up at the two of them.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asked, sniffing back a sob.

“I’ve been waiting here for you these two years.” She looked into his eyes. “Your passing was so sudden; it happened in your sleep. You woke into the next world without realizing even you had passed.”

“I don’t understand. I was just away… the train…”

“It brings back to us the lost souls we wish to see. It was I that wished to see you, to bring you with me finally to the other side. It is a wish for the departed to find their way back to the light. You no longer have to wander in confusion. You can finally come home with me, Charlie.”

It is then that a blinding light appears suddenly on the horizon, and Charlie instinctually takes a step away, but Lena holds firm to his hand. That familiar feeling spreads through him once more. He is scared, but that warmth, her warmth, was everything he ever wanted.

Ever needed.

“Don’t be afraid, now. You have nothing to fear, darling.” She said, walking towards it. “We’re finally going home.”

Charlie looked at her, then at the horizon. The light. A light that seemed to go deeper and deeper, stretching onward into infinity. He took a shuddered breath and looked down at Riley, who was still sitting there with his tail thumping against the ground. He crouches down and gave the dog a hug. Riley seems to lean into it until Charlie releases him and pats him on the head, tears in his eyes.

“You be a good boy, now.” He said to Riley, standing up and walking now with Lena. He stopped and took off his watch.

“I guess I won’t be needing this anymore.” He said, clasping it around the dog’s collar. He turned away from the old pup and walked with Lena into the now fading light.

Riley watches until the two vanish, and the light turns back into a snowy, starless night. He pads out of the graveyard and back down the street towards Terrance’s house. He passes the gate and plods up to the front door where he sits and paws at it to come inside. Terrance pushes himself from the table once again and crosses the dining room and opens the door to find his dog finally ready to come inside.

“Hey there, Riley. Come inside and get warm.” He glances down to see something shiny attached to his collar.

“Hold on there… what’s this?” He says, taking hold of the dog’s collar. Terrance stares at it, recognizing it immediately. Riley sits there, panting and lets out a short, reassuring grunt. Terrance pulls the watch off, speechless as to how the dog got the watch, let alone, how it ended up strapped to his collar. The watch had disappeared right after his father died. They had turned his old house upside down looking for his old watch. Riley makes his way into the sitting room and lies down next to the fire, while Terrance, still astonished, shows his brother the watch. Before falling asleep, the old dog glances out the window at the emerging stars twinkling to life beyond the retreating clouds.