25

This was a project story. I was asked to write a story using 25 random things provided to me. The underlined words are the things from the list. I had a lot of fun with this project.

A TRAIN RIDE

TO CALIFORNIA

 

 

            Kara Johnson squinted as a spasm of pain crept through her body.  It wasn’t too bad yet, but they told her it would get worse before it was over.

            When the pain started a few months ago, she knew it was time.  She had made her decision almost a year ago; the day the doctor had stolen her future.  She knew it had to be done, and she had already waited as long as she dared.

            That day at the doctor’s office and the decision that followed had brought her here.  ‘Here’ was a bench on the platform at a train station in Stoneham, Massachusetts.  ‘Here’ she sat, waiting for her world to come to an end.

            The sleek silver train hissed to a stop.  A 93-year-old black woman named Sherma looked out of the window.  A melancholy, young, blonde woman sat on a bench waiting.  Next to her, a nine-year-old girl with the hiccups was watching people get off the train, laughing and waving.

            That would have to change, Sherma thought.  The world has not been a safe place for children since Millard Fillmore was president.  The child was definitely going to have to learn some discipline.

            A man stopped to talk to the lively, little girl.  He had a small ball of fur in his hand.  The little girl giggled and reached out her hand.  She quickly jerked back her hand and then giggled again.

            The ball of fur barked.  It must have been the world’s smallest rat terrier.  The little girl reached out her hand again.  Sherma had seen enough.

            The old woman stood up and straightened her hat.  She gave a tug to the wrist of each of her white, cotton gloves and wiped the wrinkles from her navy blue suit.

            She checked her pocketbook for the two return tickets.  They were there, neatly tucked between a nail file and a coupon for a 20 percent discount on rug shampoo.  She clicked the latch on her bag and headed towards the exit.

            Kara watched the old woman descend the stairs.  The conductor raced over to offer his hand.  She took it with grace and dignity and stepped off the train.

            She looked and moved pretty well for 93.  Kara was surprised that the old woman was still alive, but then she was probably too stubborn to die.  The old woman’s stare was as cold as the O-rings off the Challenger and just as deadly.

            Kara immediately regretted what she was doing to her daughter, but she couldn’t come up with a better alternative.  Fear, panic and desperation squeezed her mind as the old woman approached.  Kara considered calling the whole thing off until another rush of pain hit, and she knew she had to go through with it.

            Tia noticed the old woman by the reaction of the conductor.  The woman reminded her of Mrs. Peterson, who lives across the street and smells like moldy cheese.  This woman had a different smell, one of lilacs and peppermint.

            “Kara Phillips?”  Sherma addressed the wall above Kara’s head.

            “Johnson,” Kara said with a sigh of fatigue.

            The old woman looked at her with surprise.  “I had no idea you kept the name,” Sherma said regaining her attitude of superiority.  “Is the child ready?”

            “Her name is Tia,” Kara said.

            “I am fully aware of her name,” Sherma replied.  “I would like to get back on the train and get her settled as quickly as possible.”

            Tia sat quietly listening to the grown-ups chatter.  Her mother had only told her that she was going on a long trip and that she was finally going to meet her father.  Tia was very excited to get going.  She had never been on a train before.

            “I wish Thomas would have come for her,” Kara said.  “I would have liked to see him one more time.”

            “Thomas is a very busy man,” Sherma said.  “He has a PhD in cultural anthropology, and he lectures at Stanford as well as his field work.  I personally shuffled my own duties quite a bit in order to accommodate you.”

            Kara knew better than to waste her energy arguing with the stubborn, old fool.  She had tried that 7 years ago when Thomas had first introduced her to the matriarch of the Johnson family.

            The old woman always got her way even when it came to Thomas and Kara’s marriage.  He was the perfect cliché of the tall, dark, handsome stranger and he swept her away from her senses. They instantly felt something and quickly decided that they didn’t want it to end, ever.

            They married one month to the day from their first date, a quick and simple wedding with only a few friends.  Kara didn’t have any family and Thomas’ family was all the way across the country from their Boston college.

             Everything was perfect until the semester got over and he flew her home to California to meet his family.  Kara had heard him arguing with someone when he called home to tell them about his new wife, but he said he didn’t care what they thought.

            Kara knew that she could handle whatever reaction she received, as long as Thomas stood with her to face it.  The problem came when he didn’t stand with her.  Back under the constant control of his overbearing great-grandmother, he folded to the pressure.

            Kara left the unbearable scene; Sherma scolding him for bringing a disgrace on the family and Thomas meekly groveling his apologies.  She walked to a pay phone and called a cab.  Thomas never came after her and he signed the divorce papers that her lawyer sent without comment.

            Kara never told him about the baby.  She didn’t think he deserved to know.  It wasn’t until the doctor told her about the cancer that she even considered it.

            She had decided that she didn’t want her daughter’s last memories of her to be tubes and machines and pain.  She took Tia on a wonderful tour of Europe where they met last year’s Nobel Peace Prize winner and danced in St. Steven’s Cathedral in Vienna.

            When they got home, she sat down and wrote Thomas a letter telling him that he had a daughter and that his daughter’s mother was dying.  Kara asked him to take Tia and to lover her and to give her a good home.  The response was to have Tia here, today, to meet this train.

            Kara turned to her daughter.  “Tia, this lady is your great-great-grandmother.  She is going to take you to see your father.  You must be very good and always remember that your mommy loves you.”

            She held back the tears that threatened to break free.  There would be plenty of time for that later.  She didn’t want to give Tia any reason not to enjoy her trip.

            Tia hugged her mother and accepted Sherma’s outstretched hand. “What shall I call you?” Tia asked.

            “You may call me Nana,” Sherma said.

            Tia waved to her mother as she boarded the train.  “Bye.  Bye.  I’ll miss you,” she said brightly.

            Kara felt as if 6 million golf balls were trying to burst out of her chest.  The tears began to leak from her eyes before the last car had passed the platform.  She had no idea it would be this hard.  Her grief overwhelmed her, and she collapsed.

            Sherma observed the child for a while.  She definitely had her father’s black, wavy hair.  Her skin tone was a perfect mix, the color of chocolate milk.  Her nose was a little small and she had her mother’s startling green eyes.

            The child was very well-mannered and spent most of the time looking out the window.  She seemed to be fascinated by everything that she saw.  They passed by a lake that was covered with ducks, lots and lots of ducks, and Tia laughed out loud, full and strong, as the ducks took off into the sky.

            Lunch came.  The child used her napkin properly and kept her mouth closed while chewing.  She waited politely while the dishes were removed before returning to the window.  Finally, when there was nothing to view except an empty plain and a strip of asphalt, she spoke.

            “Nana, where are we going?” Tia asked.

            Sherma had almost forgotten that she had told the child to call her that.  “We are going to California,” Sherma replied.

            “Are we going to meet Arnold Schwarzenegger?” Tia asked.

            “Doubtfully.  He’s a very busy man.”

            “You said that my father was ‘a very busy man.’  Am I going to get to meet him?”  There was no guile in the child’s face.

            “Yes, child, you will meet your father,” Sherma said.

            “What shall I call him?” Tia asked.

            “That will be up to you, child.”

            Tia seemed to be satisfied and went back to watching out the window.  A big sign announcing the birthplace of the holder of the world’s record in pole vaulting greeted them at the train’s next stop.  Tia made no effort to leave her seat.

            “Are we stopping somewhere for the night?” Tia asked as the sun began to set.

            “No, child, we will sleep on the train.”

            Later, after Sherma had tucked Tia in to her berth, after the story and the song that she had asked for so politely, after the kiss and the hug she had practically stolen, Sherma watched her sleep and couldn’t stop herself from feeling affection for the poor, nearly motherless child.  “I was a fool,” she muttered softly.

            They talked more the next day.  Sherma explained that she had requested no peanuts on her chicken salad because they affected her diverticulitis.  She told Tia about the old, British sailors eating limes to prevent scurvy and that is why she had called the man with the funny accent a ‘Limey.’  She described the most vile creature in California, a banana slug, and how it lived in the forest near her home.

            Tia asked if they would get to ride a cable car in San Francisco, and Sherma assured her that they would.  They both laughed at the joke Tia told about an albino polar bear caught in a snow storm.

            Sherma explained that the San Andreas Fault is not an excuse that Californians use to take the blame for earthquakes.  Tia showed her Nana a cake and cookies recipe book written in Esperanto that her mother had purchased for her in Europe because Tia had fallen in love with the cover.  Sherma thought that Thomas would be very intrigued with his daughter’s choice of books.

            When the train ride came to an end, Sherma had thoroughly fallen in love with the little girl and hoped that she would live long enough to see Tia grow into the beautiful woman that she was bound to be.

 

Author's Note

Give it a try and see what you come up with.