The Seventh Witness

  I stood next to my mother in a slouched position with my arms crossed.  We were waiting for the train to come by and pick us up.  It was two days from thanksgiving, and we were off to spend it with the family up in North Carolina. 

  I stared wide-eyed past a green, steel fence and down into a wide concrete trench.  In the bottom of the trench was a neatly placed train track that lay in a bed of smooth round pebbles.  A deep pit of fear weighed in my stomach.  I could just imagine an innocent two year old squeezing its way through the fence and clumsily fall into the trench just as the train would arrive.

  I shook the terrible thought away.  That would never happen.  Trains are only that dangerous in my imagination.

  I sighed and entertained myself by watching the snowflakes float in every direction towards the ground.  They were so beautiful, but even snowflakes have an end.  I observed several snowflakes hit the ground and disappear in an instant.  Even though it was about thirty degrees outside, I was burning up inside my thick plush wool coat. 

  I was about to take off my coat and cool off when I heard a terrible screeching sound coming from my right.  All I could see through the darkness was a single strong beam of light that cut its way through the night.  I held my breath as the train moved closer, its loud horn disturbing the peace.

  “Here is the train.”  Mom said, grasping my hand tight.  I nodded and pick up my suit case, ready to board the train when it came to a complete stop.

  The screeching continued as the wheels of the train scraped against the tracks.  My whole body began to tremble as I began to realize how huge the train was.  Even though I had never been on a real train before, I was sorely afraid of them because of all of the gruesome stories I had hear about them on TV

  I choked back my tears and forced myself to remain calm as the train slowed to a stop in front of me and a sliding door opened.  Dad walked ahead casually, confidant that mom and I were following.

  “Come on, Angel.”  Mom ushered me forward.  I cautiously stepped into the train after Dad and sat down in a leather seat next to the window.  Mom followed in hot pursuit and sat down next to me, and Dad sat next to her.  The dim lighting in the train made me unusually nervous.  I looked out the window and saw nothing but a few snowflakes that had landed on my window and were slowly melting. 

  A tall man in a dark blue suit walked through the walk way that separated the seats in two wide straight columns.  He stopped at every person and talked to them.  I guessed that he was the usher that Dad had told me about. 

The man stopped by us and smiled at Dad.  “May I see you tickets, sir?” the man said with an outstretched hand

  “Oh, yes, of course.”  Dad leaned over on his side and dug through his pockets.  The man seemed pleased to see the three tickets that Dad pulled out and gave to him.

  “Thank you very much, sir.  I hope you and your lovely family enjoy the ride.”  The man’s face became more serious.  “Is there anything that I can do for you?”                                       

  “Yes, in fact, there is something you can do.”  Dad said.  “Can you get me a newspaper?”                         

  The usher nodded and said, “Yes, sir.  The newspapers cost seventy-five cents apiece.”   

  Dad scraped together fifty cents in small change and frowned, eyeing the money.

  “Babe,” Dad nudged Mom with his elbow.  “Can I borrow a quarter?”

  “Why certainly.”  Mom pulled a furry change purse out of her bag and unzipped it.  “I don’t have a case quarter, but I do have twenty-five cents in small change.”  She remarked, separating the change with her finger in the palm of her hand.                           

“That will work.”  Dad took the change and gave it to usher.

  “Thank you, sir.”  The usher smiled again.  “I will have the newspaper for you in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thank you,” Dad replied.                                                                                             

  The usher then strode down the middle section of the train, stopping to check tickets all the while.

  I frowned and crossed my arm.  “When is the train going to start, Mom?”

  Just then, right on cue, the train dragged itself to a start, wheels screeching. 

  Mom looked at me and smiled humorously, “Right now.”

  I smiled back.

  An hour passed.  Outside I could see the faint outline of the horizon.  It was like the land was beginning to glow in the far distance.  I looked two seats over to my left and noticed Dad grunting impatiently.  He had two piles of paper stacked neatly on top of his lap.  Apparently he was sorting out his paper work again.

  I leaned over Mom’s lap and whispered, “Hey dad, who are you trying to catch?”

  Dad looked at me and wiggled his index finger at me, “The question is, who am I about to catch.”  Dad was very happy.  I could tell because of a bright twinkle in his eye and the broad smile on his face.  “My team and I are cracking down on the Mafia.  They will be ours as soon as I can get this paper work in.”

  Mom nudged dad with her arm.  “Honey, that’s wonderful.  You are going to be on the news and everything.”

  “You are such a great detective, Dad,” I added.

  Dad blushed at our praise.  He, however, did not savor the moment of glory for too long because he was back to work in no time flat.

  Soon everything was very quiet again.  For some reason I kept hearing a slow beeping sound.  It sounded like it was coming from under the floor.  I, however, did not pay any mind to it.  I pulled out a stack of drawing paper and a pencil and began to doodle.  I loved to spend a little time aimlessly drawing my pencil across the surface of the paper.  After I doodled a little bit I spent about five minutes scrutinizing my work, trying to find hidden pictures among the tangled mess of pencil marks.

  About another hour of doodling I grew tired of it.  I put away my pencil and paper, and pulled a book out of my back pack.  I ran my hand over the smooth surface of the paper back “To Kill a Mocking Bird”.  I was about to open this seemingly interesting book when I heard an earsplitting explosion behind me.  Everyone in the train cart looked back including me.  The train cart behind up had suddenly burst into flames.  Suddenly the beeping sound began to repeat faster and faster until the cart that I was in blew up. 

  A wall of fire burned around me.  I quickly curled up and pulled my coat over me.  My entire body was now surrounded in a protective wrapping.  I could hear the fire sizzling around me.  My heart palpitated and I began to feel cold.  My brain told me to start panicking, but I would not let myself go crazy. Next my body began trembling and I cried out loud in pointless agony.  No one could hear me.  Just when I thought it was over, everything went black.