"The Station" drabbles by Christopher

The Station Pt. 6

The Station #6

A little girl was standing there. She couldn't have been more than 7 years old. She walked in alone saying, "Mommy?" over and over again.

Andrew got up and walked to her. He knelt down in front of her.

"Hello. What's your name?" he asked.

She looked at him warily, then said, "Elizabeth."

"Hi, Elizabeth. I'm Andrew and that's Zeke," he said as he pointed toward Zeke on the bench.

"Hello," she said in a frightened tone.

"Have you gotten separated from your Mommy?" he asked.

She nodded, wiping tears from her little eyes.

"Well, maybe we can find her."

The Station Pt. 5

The Station #5

The drunk was apparently oblivious to Andrew's pain. He leaned over and stuck his hand out and said, "Zeke Davis, friend."

Andrew wanted to tell him he wasn't his friend, but instead grabbed Zeke's hand and said, "Andrew Parsons."

"You from the States?" Zeke asked.

Andrew nodded while rubbing his temples, hoping the fat slob would get the message and stop talking. No such luck.

"Me too. Gotta get back today. Got business meetings all day tomorrow," Zeke said.

"Yeah, I have to get home to my wife," Andrew said, hoping she still was his wife.

The doors opened again...

The Station Pt. 4

The Station #4

The man put the lid back on the hip flask.

"I tell you," he said loudly, "the traffic out there is murder!"

Andrew looked surprised.

"You mean you were driving?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get enough of that shit from my wife I don't need it from a total stranger."

Andrew decided to just let it go. It wasn't worth getting into an altercation with a stranger about. And anyway, his head was pounding. It was all the stress he'd been under lately. He rubbed his temples and shut his eyes, trying to alleviate some of the tension...

The Station Pt. 3

The Station #3

Andrew was feeling lightheaded so he leaned back on the bench as the double doors to the station flung open. A tsunami of daylight flooded the dark station, almost washing Andrew away.

A man, clearly intoxicated, staggered into the station.

"Okay, where the hell is my train?" the belligerent man yelled.

The attendant said, "They have all been delayed, senor."

"Shit!" the man yelled. "Oh well," he said as he pulled a silver hip flask from his pocket and unscrewed the lid, "might as well take the edge off."

He went to sit down on the benches, still chugging away...

The Station Pt.2

The Station #2

"No, I have my ticket right here," Andrew said as he patted his windbreaker. "It's in my pocket. I need to get home to America."

Andrew paused. He didn't remember buying a ticket. But then again, he wasn't thinking clearly.

"Your train is late, señor," the attendant said. "I will make an announcement as soon as I have some information. Please take a seat."

He motioned to the empty benches in the middle of the station. Andrew went and sat down on one. He hoped this wouldn't take long.

He had to get home and explain things to his wife...

The Station Pt.1

The Station #1

Andrew stepped out of the Mexican afternoon heat and into the train station. It was dark and unusually quiet. Shafts of light came through broken places in the blinds on the front window. He saw squadrons of dust particles flying in formation in the light and then disappearing into the cover of darkness.

He went to the window and addressed the man behind the glass.

"Excuse me, what time is the train due?"

The man never looked up but responded.

"I'm sorry, señor. Both trains are late. The one bound for Cielo and the one bound for Infierno."

Andrew sighed...