Train to Me
by Mercedes Rodriguez
University of the Incarnate Word
Mercedes Rodriguez is a sophomore English major at University of the Incarnate Word. She has been writing ever since she was little and continues to do what she loves. She has been published in her middle school and high school literary magazines but this is her first time submitting to a collegiate magazine.
It was my train number calling. “Engine number 13,” the intercom yelled, or so I thought it said. The station was far too loud for me to clearly hear the muffled voice so I had to make an assumption. I didn’t have much with me as far as luggage goes. Just a small tote that I had fingerpainted in the fifth grade. I had filled it with a few snacks for the trip as it was going to be about two whole hours until I reached my first resting point. With my small carry on in hand, I made my way to the exit and headed for the train that I thought was number 13.
There were a few people lazing around the station but none more than I had expected because it was still pretty early in the morning. It was strange actually, I seemed to be one of the only ones who had a ticket to train number 13. I didn’t really think anything of it at first, that was until I actually stepped onto the train and couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought it was a fever dream or something, I even rubbed my eyes so much that I began to get sleepy. When I finally accepted my fate I would just have to live with it.
I sat in between what I thought was seven year old me and ten year old me. They were actually very nice, I mean me, I was very nice to me. They made some room and asked three year old me to shove down a little to make room. I sort of just scooched in between them holding my bag in my arms like I was hugging a pillow. I still thought it was my head messing with me so I tried not to converse with them. If I had learned anything from those futuristic movies it was to not let your future self see you. In my case, that was completely out the window when the entire train seemed to be filled with me. Past me’s and future me’s. So I changed that movie rule and made it to where I probably shouldn’t talk to them just in case it made me disappear from existence. If that did happen then thank goodness there were plenty of me’s to go around and suffice my life so far.
A few minutes into the train ride, one year old me began to cry. When I say cry I mean ball. Gosh, I didn’t know I was such a cry baby when I was younger. Luckily, I think the thirty two year old me came to the rescue with a sippy cup of what I thought was apple juice. This made me laugh a little to myself because being the age I am now, I absolutely hate apple juice. I guess I made a face that made my very thought about the juice clear because before I knew it, the fifteen year old me was leaning in and talking to my ear. “I know, gross right? I personally prefer the sparkling apple juice. Makes me feel like I’m drinking champagne or something.” I gave the fifteen year old a small little laugh, almost as if I was laughing in agreement but uncomfortably doing so.
The intercom came on and the conductor began to announce a status update. “We are about…” The rest faded away because the voice sounded so familiar. “Where have I heard that voice before?” A thought that I supposed was in my head was actually said out loud, a little too loud might I add.
“It’s you, it’s me, it’s all of us.”
I stumbled a little when I looked up to see who was speaking. She looked almost exactly like me, I would guess maybe she was the seventeen year old me as she looked pretty much the same as I currently did. “So we become a train conductor when we get older?” This I asked in astonishment because of my tiny, I’d even say non existent interest in trains or conductors.
“No silly, we’re one in the same here. But definitely not a train conductor for our job. I don’t think we’re going to be a train conductor at least.”
I settled into my seat more. A high pitched squeak played when I sat back. I reached behind to find a small children’s book but in the center was a small squeaky doll. It was one of those books with a cutout in the center that followed the storyline of the main object. The main object happened to be what made me jump up in my seat. “That’s Three’s I think. Could also be Two’s or Four’s. Might want to ask around.” Seventeen was still speaking into my ear.
“Why are you whispering, why is that a secret?” Seventeen leaned away from me and sat comfortably back in her seat.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to whisper, that’s just how I’m used to speaking.” As soon as she said that, I remembered something that didn’t seem like long ago.
I was sitting in my old counselor's office flipping through college brochures. She was talking to me about my applications for college. “Your transcript looks nice and your essay is polished off the way it should be. But I wanted to talk to you about your little shyness problem.”
I began to speak but nothing came out. “Speak up sweetie. I can’t hear you, this is what I’m talking about. We need to work on this if you want to go off to college.”
My memory faded and I was back in the train sitting with Seventeen. “Hey, are you okay? You blanked out a little for a second.” Twenty One was fanning me with her hands and Seventeen was now crouched down beside me.
“What? Oh, yeah I’m fine I just…”
“We saw,” Twenty One spoke softly when she said this, as if trying to step on eggshells around me.
“You did? How?” Seventeen decided to take this one and spoke up a little louder for all to hear.
“We see everything you do. After all, we are you.” I took a moment and looked around for a second, it seemed like all the ages were now huddled around me.
“I’m sorry for what I said about you whispering. I had completely forgotten. I tried to forget all about stuff like that once I got into college.” Seventeen reached for my hand to hold it, “no worries, if I were you I’d forget too.” Twenty One cleared her throat. “You are her remember? You’re her, she’s you, I'm y’all.” Both Seventeen and I nodded. Twenty One seemed to have a bit of attitude that followed her around.
We sat in silence for a while until the train came to a halt. All the younger year me’s leaned against the glass windows of the train to be curious. The older me’s just looked up from their books, phones, and laptops. Ah, yes, by their choice of entertainment for the ride I could tell exactly who they were. The ones reading the books were Fourteen and Sixteen year old me. I specifically remember replacing books with friends for a while at the beginning of high school. The one with the phone was Thirteen year old me. I remember thinking I was on top of the world when I was thirteen. Finally, the ones with the laptops open and glowing were the college year me’s and also Seventeen had hers out and open too. If I knew no better I would be right there with them, my nose in a computer or maybe even a book.
The train was steady for a while longer. A few announcements here and there from the train conductor me. I had set my bag down next to me because I had gotten a bit more comfortable and thought it would be fine. Before I knew it, I saw my painted tote being pulled to the other end of the train. I called for someone to do something but no one seemed to look up to stop the thief. I made my way to where I saw the bag sitting on the floor of the train cart. It was actually very crowded for it just being me on the train. I tugged at the bag but a small shoe stepped down on my hand. “Sorry, I thought someone was trying to take my bag.” I realized who I was talking to, it was Ten year old me, aka, fifth grade me. She actually was the one who stole my bag but I let it go, after all, it was all of ours.
“I painted this in my art class. It was supposed to be clouds but I spilled the paint on it before it could dry so the colors morphed together and just made a puddle of rainbows.” I reached for the bag slowly to show that I was good people and not trying to take it back.
“I for one think it’s inspiring. Whatever you imagine you’re seeing, it’s there.” Ten showed a slight smile and began to open up more.
It was hard to pay attention to what Ten was saying, she talked rapidly and non stop. I caught a few stories and names of her friends, names that to my surprise I remembered but knew I no longer spoke to more than half of them. I didn’t tell Ten that, I didn’t want to spoil her fun. I was more invested in Twenty Five’s life story in which she seemed to be pouring her heart out to Twenty Three who was holding a travel size pack of tissues. This was ahead of my time, whatever they were talking about but it was so interesting that I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
Technically, it wasn’t really eavesdropping because it was bound to happen to me one day. Twenty Five mentioned something about a break up with a boyfriend. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch a name which I was saddened by because now I couldn’t look out for my future boyfriend. This was fine in the long run because clearly we didn’t end up together if she was telling Twenty Three a break up story.
Hearing Twenty Five’s story about her love life made me realize that I could see my own future in a matter of minutes if I just found the right age. I went and found Twenty Seven who was bragging about her new job promotion. Great for me but not really what I was looking for exactly. I tried Twenty Eight, thinking that I would have been married by then, I was wrong. Instead, Twenty Eight was helping Thirty Two tend to the younger me’s who were trying to go to sleep for nap time. I asked around a bit more and came to the conclusion that I would just not ever get married. My luck changed when I entered a conversation with Twenty Four who miraculously had a rock on her finger. My eyes practically exploded when I saw that thing, it was my dream ring and it looked as how I would always picture it when I was younger and I guess older too.
I pardoned the conversation to begin my own with Twenty Four. “Are you engaged or married?” Twenty Four smiled at her ring.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it? I’m engaged but will be married next week. I’m so excited.” I gave her a polite smile but was freaking out inside.
I immediately went and found Twenty Five who was fine now, just reading alone. “Do we get a divorce?”
“How could we get a divorce if we aren’t even married?” I rolled my eyes, I had forgotten all about my sarcasm.
“You know what I mean, do we get married to our husband and then we get a divorce?”
“No, why would you say that?” This answer really stumped me, I had no idea what to think. “But. I saw. You were practically crying over your break up with your boyfriend.”
She put the book aside and patted the seat next to her for me to sit. “I wasn’t crying in sadness, it was tears from laughing too hard. Did you not hear my story?”
“Well, I was trying not to be nosy, I was trying to listen to Ten.”
“Oh, that’s why you didn’t hear correctly. Ten is a mouthful, once she starts talking, she won’t stop. Well if you would have heard correctly, you would have seen that I was telling a story about my ex boyfriend and it was so stupid that it had to be funny. I’m married, see.” Twenty Five held out her hand and the diamonds caught the light and sparkled.
Man, I missed the name of my future ex boyfriend. It would have been helpful to know the name of the guy I would not marry so that I wouldn’t eagerly agree if he decided to pop the question one day. I guess I would just have to wait it out and see what was in store. After all, the future me’s seemed happy so my life wasn’t going to be anything bad right?
Interview with the Author
1. What inspired you to write this piece? What was your thought process throughout?
I wanted to write something that had involved a train. As soon as I began to write the first few paragraphs, I got the idea to create all of the characters as one person. It was actually a lot of fun to gauge how the characters would talk and present themselves based on their age level. I’ve never written a piece like this before and I was so happy with the way it came out.
2. What do you hope readers will take away from your piece? What effects do you want the piece to have on the person, community, or society?
I wrote this piece mainly for entertainment purposes as a little short story, but now looking back at it I think that it is a great representation of how we all grow and how we can reflect on the past, present, and future. I hope that when people read this they can resonate with some aspects of what it was like to be a little kid or a moody teenager, or even an adult who’s still trying to figure it all out.
3. What is your favorite piece of fiction (short story, novel, flash fiction, etc.) that you’ve ever read? Why?
I’m a sucker when it comes to romance novels, and I’m not talking about the ones with the shirtless guys on them, I’m talking about the best friends to lovers or fake dating turned real. I would say that as of right now, my favorite novel is The Cheat Sheet by Sarah Adams. There’s something about books that I know will most likely end happily that makes me excited to read them. For me, reading can be an escape from the real world for a while and I like that I’m able to pick the world I want to go to for a couple of hours.
4. If you plan on continuing to write, what are some goals/plans you may have for your future?
A major goal I have right now is to write a novel. I am actually trying to write one currently but unfortunately, I’m experiencing some writer's block so hopefully I can get over it to just write. I also want to be a book editor. I’m not exactly sure if I would want to do something along the lines of copy editing, or something else entirely but still remain in the English field.