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Consider it, I don't know, a warning. The note was left taped on the shower door with those seven words typed up in small
letters on an otherwise blank white piece of paper. It was neatly centered in the middle of the page and just stared at him
from its resting place as he prepared to take a shower. He ripped it off the tape and flipped it over several times, but couldn't
find out who was trying to warn him of something.
Alex Duval shook his head and put the note on the kitchen table before shutting the door and going to work. The morning was
foggy and wet, as usual mornings in New York were in the middle of spring. The metro station was only a few minutes walk from
his apartment, but the words of the note started to worry him and he hitched a taxi down the station. Considering the small
amount of cash he ever carried with him, it was easier to pay for the small fare to the station, he thought, than the long
ride to the office. Besides, he added to help convince himself as the taxi pulled up, no one would kill in the middle of a
train full of people.
"Something got you down?" the driver asked, looking at the young man from the rear-view mirror.
"Just take me to the nearest metro station," he said, avoiding eye contact with the driver. He looked out the window at the
people passing by and at the constant stops of traffic flow he would check that the two back doors were locked.
"Well fine, keep that to yourself," the driver said after a long moment of silence, "Besides, here's the station."
Alex thanked the man and apologized for his silence, giving him an extra tip. When all exchanges were in order, he boarded
the train. Alex always stepped into the fourth car from the driver ever since he had first used this route to his, then, new
job. He considered moving into another car, but he had made a few friends and they all had traditions of going into that particular
car. This is getting really silly, he told himself as he walked down the platform, no one is going to harm you. It's just
a stupid note. After spotting his friend's face as soon as he stepped in, Alex breathed a sigh of relief.
"You look like you've seen the dead; what happened?" his friend said, moving his duffel bag over a seat.
"Whatever, Tony. I don't really want to talk about it."
"I'm on your side, whatever happens," Tony said and turned towards the window.
The train lurched forward with a metallic slide and sped creakily down the track. Buildings flew by like streaks of gray on
a big white canvas that was the sky. The sky eventually disappeared as the train flew further and further in the heart of
the city. Even at this early in the morning, New York was throbbing with intensity especially as it started waking up and
drinking coffee. The honking of cars was evident in the train car as it slowed down and reached its first destination.
"You sure you're ok? You haven't even pulled out your notebook yet," Tony said glancing at Alex, worry etching his delicate
features. Tony was a tall lanky gentleman that looked nineteen no matter how many years went by. His hair was a short dark
chocolate brown that would reflect sunlight even though there was none in New York. He was a photographer for the New York
Times, so he was always with his camera, sometimes taking pictures of whatever Alex chose to write about during the commute.
Alex shrugged and smiled. "I've written all I've seen about going into New York. After six months of this routine there's
nothing left to describe."
"Don't give me that," Tony smiled back and went back to looking out the dirty window. "You've written about people not just
the scenery."
"Well, after six months, they haven't changed much either."
It was the following Saturday when he thought about the letter again and it was the last Saturday he remembered. He was waiting
for his boss at the lower Manhattan train station when a tall lanky woman came up to him. Her blue eyes scanned him from his
brown eyes down to his black dress shoes and up again lingering where his hands were shoved into his pockets. He turned away
from her and started farther down the station.
Don't go, she said, her voice echoing through his head. You're that novelist. I've heard about you; you've saved those kids
from that earthquake last year. You've got a silver heart.
He turned around. "Most people would not agree."
Well, you only have a silver heart, not one of gold. Still, she walked over to him and ran her hand from his shoulder down
his back, you seem like the type of person who'd be interested in helping out a good cause.
He stepped away from her. "Sorry, I don't hire prostitutes."
She laughed a dinner-bell sort of laugh that melted his previous inhibitions. Her mouth curled into a smile as she pulled
up beside him, her hands now at her sides and she made no other move toward him.
You think the train is done for the day, she said looking him in the eyes with a cold intensity, but it's only just begun.
You see, this train likes stories and secrets-it has such a vast collection. When it pulls up to the station, it will wait
for you like always until the next train pushes it away. Tonight, you take the first one and, like always, I'll be in the
second. I can promise you, she finished as the rumble of a train grew in intensity, no one will hurt you.
The train pulled up to the platform and smiled. Well hello sugar, it seemed to say and slid in neatly so he could take the
first car. Alex stepped back warily and looked for the woman. She had disappeared with the first train's arrival, which ironically
had signaled the butterflies in his stomach to flap their wings frantically. Ain't ‘cha gonna get in? the train said,
pouting playfully. Alex looked up the stairs for his boss, but didn't see anyone or hear anything besides the rhythmic breathing
of the train.
Consider it, I don't know, a warning, he recalled. The rumble of a second train with more masculine intensity started crescendoing
as he stood. Damn, the first train said under her breath and started pulling away.
Alex was never one to go towards an adventure, and he knew this. But the overwhelming feeling of last chance opportunity was
too much. Curiosity and guilt were the only things driving him as he ran towards the closing doors of the first train. In
an excited squeal, the train picked up the pace and raced down the track, blurring the graffiti darkness to streaks.
"Well hello there," a little boy with small pointed ears ran up to where Alex had tumbled into the train. His little stubs
of glittery wings flapped frantically as the boy helped Alex up. "Are you here to tell stories?"
Alex sat down on the nearest seat. "I suppose so."
"All right then," the boy sat down on the floor and flapped his wings expectantly.
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "How about this one: once upon a time-"
"Oh, yeah! I forgot to mention. Every time you tell an original story, whoever is trapped on the train car, gets to leave.
You can only tell one story in each car and as soon as the train stops, you're finished forever. Sometimes there are lots
of people on each car, but you only have to tell one story to free everybody. If you don't satisfy the train, she keeps you
here."
"Ah," Alex said. "Well then...hmmm."
The boy bounced his knees up and down. "Please don't take too long."
Alex sighed and looked at the little boy. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy named David. David had a curse where he
had to answer whatever question someone asked him truthfully. David was part of a secret organization with a secret underground
base beneath the castle. The only reason why he was part of this organization was because he was the king's son. There was
a big problem when spies would ask David where they could find this secret base or any information they had talked about because
David would have to answer truthfully to their questions. This was very bad not only for the group but also for the king.
So the king sent his son on a mission to end his curse."
During Alex's story, the boy would occasionally look up at the lights and duck his head like something might fall from the
ceiling of the car. When nothing would happen, the boy would smile and continue nodding and watching Alex. After a point,
Alex would look up at the lights to make sure they were still their florescent bluish white. He wasn't sure what the boy was
afraid of in the ceiling, but the constant glances towards the lights were starting to increase his nervousness.
"David had to first go to the house of an old witch who lived in a small hut in the middle of the forest."
The train lights flickered and turned pink. The ride became rickety and the train sped up. "Oh, no," the boy said shifting
so he was sitting on his knees. "She didn't like that very much."
Not original enough, Alex thought. "But you see, this witch was a toad and her hut was in a tree. So it was exceptionally
hard to find." The lights flickered again, but this time turned back to white and the train was moving slower and smoother
down the track. "Fortunately, the king had a map to where this witch lived for she was a citizen of the kingdom. When David
reached the tree, he slipped money in the little hole at the bottom and waited. The toad came out and said ‘how may
I help you?' and David said ‘I need your help removing this curse.' So, the witch pulled out her magic wand," the train
lights dimmed red, "and waved her slimy fingers," the lights got more red and the boy started to whimper, "and then in an
anti-climactic motion, she went back into her tree. No bright lights, no other words," Alex added as the lights returned to
normal. "So, David wasn't sure whether or not she had really done his bidding. But he returned to the castle anyway, because
he was a smart boy who knew never to question anything a witch does. The king seeing his son's doubt asked David if he had
stolen the money to pay the witch. Now both the king and David knew the answer, and both knew it was a test, so David said
that he had (which was a lie). Both father and son rejoiced and David was allowed back into the secret society. The End."
The lights flickered and the train slowed to a stop in front of a dark gray station. The little boy cheered, but Alex paid
no attention to that. He stood up quickly, the back of his neck tingling. The station lights flew on to reveal an empty platform
and a set of glowing yellow stairs. Alex held onto the edge of the car door and peered out, but the little boy pushed him
out in excitement. The car billowed with little children all jumping out and cheering. The first little boy Alex had told
the story to had already bounded up the golden steps and the other little children followed his lead. A few of the more polite
ones thanked him, before running up the stairs.
The train let off a hiss of engine as the last little one waddled off to join with the others. All children, he thought awestruck.
The train whistled again and moved forward. The door to the second car opened and, sighing, Alex got in.
Alex watched the last little boy gallop up the golden stairs with a rock in his heart. The train whistled impatiently and
opened her doors to the last car. Throughout the ride, she had seemed more and more intolerant of small cliché slip-ups and
he was getting more and more nervous the more cars he visited. She seemed to dislike that he had traveled so far into the
game and now that he was almost done, irritably impatient. The last car was dusty except for one seat where a tall adolescent
sat with a little girl on his lap. The girl's breathing was labored and stuffy as she slept cuddled next to the boy's body.
The boy holding her looked no older than sixteen and he gently cradled her back and forth. Noticing Alex, he started to stand
up, but Alex stopped him with a short raise of his hand and sat down in the seat adjacent.
"It was December," Alex started gazing at the girl, "when Frederik's sister fell ill." The lights started to flicker, but
Alex ignored them. "Frederik lived alone with his sister in a small cottage next to the church. He was a stubborn boy and
insisted that he have his own house. His parents had left them alone at least seven winters ago and Frederik was just getting
used to living on their own. The pastor and his wife watched over them, but mostly, they were self-sufficient. So when she
became ill, he didn't know what to do for her and asked the pastor's wife for help. She ended up taking away his sister into
the church leaving Frederik utterly alone."
The second boy cocked his head at Alex with a tint of anger. "What sort of story is this?" he asked.
Alex shook his head. "I've to keep going wherever it leads."
The boy set his jaw and brushed a bit of hair from the little girl's face. From the look of her sweaty locks, she had a fever,
but was still sleeping soundly. The train started to speed up in warning, but the lights remained constant.
"In search for a friend, Frederik traveled the lands alone. A few people he met let him stay the night and gave him food,
but their kindness seemed plastic and forced. He traveled on until he came to a ladder going up into the boughs of a tree.
He couldn't see any end to the ladder or where he would end up if he climbed it, but upward and onward he went. Eventually
he reached the boughs of the tree and sitting among them was a little orange bird. The bird turned to him and started to sing.
Frederik felt something tugging at his back, but he ignored it and pulled himself up so that he was sitting on the top rung
of the ladder."
The train shook and the lights flickered, but Alex continued through the chaos. The little girl had woken up and the young
man was rocking her gently back and forth. "The bird hit the final note of its song and in a soundless flap, fluttered upwards.
Forced by something he didn't know, Frederik soared above the clouds his newly formed orange wings beating steadily behind
him. The bird led him to a mountaintop that was devoid of snow where an entire village of people with brightly colored wings
lived. They came out to greet him from their huts on the peak."
The station started to pull into view and Alex's stomach knotted up. "With the growth of new wings, Frederik forgot his sister
and lived contentedly the rest of his days with his new-found friends."
The door to the train creaked open and Alex got out. The boy carrying the little girl followed him into the familiar station.
The train sped off with an indignant huff and left the three of them in the exact subway station where Alex had started.
"Didn't you get my message?" the boy asked sitting down on the bench and cradling the little girl.
"What are you talking about?"
The boy sighed and visibly swallowed back tears. "There's a catch. The girl you first met, Persephone, her sole purpose is
to get people to go into the second train. So, she tells them to do a noble cause and go into the first, and the first train
takes you in a circle for the second train to pick you up. The game is rigged: everyone wins no matter how creative they are
or not. The rules only apply to the last car and if you don't succeed, you have to stay there." The boy paused and looked
down at the little girl. "She's cold," he said and felt her sweaty neck for a pulse. "She's been sick since we got onto that
car."
Alex bit his lip. "What's the next part of the game?"
"You get into the second train and you're never seen again."
Time seemed to stop as the boy dropped the girl and let her slip off his lap. The thud of her dead body hitting the ground
reverberated around the walls and up the stairs, echoing Alex's sealed fate. Alex sat down next to the boy as he started to
cry and held him closer as if sympathy enough could suppress the pained sobs.
"My sister and I," the boy said pushing himself upright and rubbing away his tears, "were just walking downtown looking for
a present for our mother when we realized that it was getting really late, so we went down to the nearest subway station.
Persephone approached me down here and told me that the train was done for the day, but if I went into the first train, I
could get home pretty fast. So I do what she says because, by now, my sister is scared stiff. And we met this little boy who
explained the rules of the game. By the time we got to the last car, my sister had probably gotten herself sick from crying
and the temperature changes. It was freezing in the car and warm outside, so whenever the door opened..." The boy paused and
bit his lip to stop crying. "God, it's almost as if they wanted her to die." He took a deep breath. "In the last car, there
was an elderly man being held at gunpoint by a deranged man. The gunman told me that he figured out the game and that the
point of it is to die. The old man just sat there and stared and says in this mechanic voice-I'll never forget it-he said
that the point of the game is to go into the second train where you will just keep going until you hit your destination. And
the gunman yelled at the old man asking where the destination is. My sister was hysterical and the train had started going
down the track when all of a sudden, the old man grabs the gun from the second man and shoots him screaming that he's scaring
the child. Everything was silent and he dropped the gun and told me to start telling him a story. So I did and when the station
pulled up, I stayed on the train. Persephone kept coming back to take me out of the train, but for some reason she couldn't
go into the car. Finally, she told the first train to get a move on. We got around to our beginning destination enough times
that I stopped counting at fifty-five. My sister got worse and I didn't know what to do. I don't know if Persephone stopped
getting storytellers for spite, or they never got farther than the second car, but regardless we stayed there. One day she
let me out only because I complained about the dead man and she let me carry him to an alley and leave him there. That's when
I left that note in the alleyway for you, because I knew that you could get us out of here."
Alex frowned. "How did you know that?"
The boy smiled. "Don't you recognize me? I'm that boy who used to travel on your train every morning. Tony took a lot of pictures
of me looking out that window. You know, the one you wrote Autumn about."
"I didn't know you knew about that."
"I didn't until I became part of the system," the boy stood up. "Every time we came to the last station, the doors would open
and Persephone would be waiting for me to come out. Often she would talk to me, but one of these times I noticed that there
was an underlying voice to the one she was projecting into my head. And when I focused on that voice very well, I could hear
what it was saying. I realized that I could hear her thoughts; the real thoughts that she has that she thinks no one can
hear. But I can eavesdrop on those conversations she has with other people in their heads, too. I can sort of sense her when
she's near and what she's thinking. She has no idea I can do that."
The second train started rumbling down the track like an impending storm. The boy stood up. "I'm Chris. And I think I can
be use to you in part two of her game."
Alex sighed and faced the upcoming train. He picked up Chris' dead sister and placed her neatly on the bench. "I have a feeling
I'm going to need all the help I can get."
The second train pulled up with a laugh of satisfaction. Fell into the trap didn't you, it seemed to ask as Alex and Chris
dutifully walked inside the open car. The car was clean and smelled slightly of lemons and lilacs. There was a table on one
end of the car with a glass case of whiskey and a teapot with two cups. The two men exchanged a look at sat down on the leather
bound seats.
"I'm sorry; I didn't expect the extra visitor," Persephone said walking from the opposite end of the car to the table with
the whiskey and tea. "Would you like anything to drink?"
"No thank you," Alex said. He was focusing all his energy on staying calm and making his hands not shake that he missed that
she had poured him a drink anyway.
"It might calm your nerves," she said handing him a glass of whiskey and sitting next to Chris. "Besides you're going to be
here a while."
Alex set down his glass and leaned back in the seat. The train lurched forward and sped off. Through silence, the train pulled
up out of the subway station and into a countryside in the middle of the afternoon. Alex continued to watch the countryside
before asking: "Why did you need people to go into the second train?"
Persephone took a sip. "Well, quite frankly, I was bored."
"What?" Chris jumped up and hit the glass out of Persephone's hands, spilling the liquid everywhere. "You brought us to this
hell hole just because you were bored? People were killed on that first train-my sister was killed. And you murdered these
people because you were bored?"
"The purpose of a game," Persephone said in a tone that forced Chris to sit down, "is to have fun. You propose the game for
entertainment; it's not anybody's fault it gets out of hand."
"But that's when you stop it," Alex said calmly.
"Why stop it when you're so close to winning? I realized later that it was a good thing the boy was so stubborn to leave.
I used him to keep you there. Why do you think I let him leave that message in your apartment? I even told the boy where it
was. I knew you would get through the first game-you're a writer after all. It was a gamble when the kid figured out the second
part, but for some reason you decided to stay."
"What about the other children?"
"They weren't real," she said pouring out another glass of whiskey.
The two men shared a glance before she turned around and went back to her seat. "So, a game of cards?"
Chris started to decline, but Alex quieted him with a quick glance. "Of course. Gin Rummy?"
Persephone pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled them nonchalantly. "I haven't played Gin in a long time." After dealing
the cards, she snapped her fingers twice and put the deck in the center of the appearing table. As she reached for the first
card, Alex stopped her.
"Let's up the stakes," he said.
She put the card down amusedly puzzled and rested her chin on her fist. "What did you have in mind?"
"Let's gamble."
"Gamble?" she said laughing, "What do you possibly have to gamble?"
"Right now, we've got nothing but time. We'll play seven hands and on each hand lies a day of the week. If I win, Chris and
I get to leave the train on our designated day. If you win, we stay."
She gracefully grabbed all of their cards and reshuffled the deck. "Fine," she said dealing the cards to just herself and
Alex. "But I'm a horrible cheat."
"Its hard to cheat a game that requires mostly luck," Chris said, disdainfully.
"It all depends on the deck."
She flipped the first card over and rearranged the cards in her hand. "This one's for Sunday."
They played the hand until Alex put down the last card. "Beginners luck," she said, but shuffled the cards again.
The second hand went the same way and so did the third. Persephone was getting more and more angry with every hand she lost.
By Wednesday's hand, she had switched to another deck and for Friday, she insisted that they use her tarot card deck without
the major arcana and knights.
He put down his last card on the deck and sat back in the seat, trying not to look too content. She threw down the cards on
the table and got up towards the whiskey and tea. "One more hand and if I don't win, I'm not honoring the bet."
Alex waved her back to her seat. "Gambling is always luck."
"You're only laughing because you're winning."
"No," Alex said, "if I lost I would give you what you won."
"We'll see about that." She dealt the cards again and flipped over the first one: the page of swords. Alex picked up the card
and discarded the nine of wands.
"For every day that you have to leave," she said farther into the game, "you have to have your mind erased so you don't tell
anyone about this place. I can't have people just joining the train ride without proper testing first. Where would the fun
be if I did?"
"So then I'd have to go through the test every time?"
"No," she said placing her penultimate card on the discard deck. "Every Saturday, I'd restore your memory of what happened.
It would serve as a reminder as well."
Alex picked up two more cards and put the six of swords down on the deck. She finished her hand with a flourish of the six
of wands. "Saturdays you are mine."
"All right," Alex said, "You won Saturdays. What day is it anyway?"
Persephone laughed. "Tuesday." At that word, the train pulled up to the original station with a screech. Have fun! it said
teasingly as Alex and Chris got off and it cackled off into the distance.
The light was starting to trickle in from the stairs and the cool misty air of morning was barely penetrating the musty station.
Chris ran towards the stairs and disappeared, but Alex followed more slowly, savoring the well-earned week in his hometown.
The stores hadn't even woken up and the sun was just barely visible above the buildings. Alex sighed and walked over to where
Chris was starting to climb a tree.
"Come on," he motioned to Chris to follow him and they both walked back to Alex's apartment. "You'd better get washed up and
then we're taking you to school."
"I don't think it matters," Chris said taking the towels Alex handed him and walking towards the bathroom, "I haven't been
in the longest time."
"We can at least bring you home. Where do your parents live?"
"Brooklyn. But don't worry about them."
"Why not? I'm sure your mother will be worried sick."
"Well seeing as I used to have a sister...how do I explain that?"
Alex bit his lip. Damn, I forgot about that, he thought, but he said: "I'll come up with something."
The more he thought about it, the worse the situation became. He had come to the fact that he had to return Chris home. His
parents would probably be grateful for at least their son. But it's difficult to explain how their daughter died and why their
son has to go into the city every Saturday without coming across as a dangerous lunatic. Even if Chris matched his story,
his parents wouldn't believe them. He had to come up with a plausible lie, which was the biggest problem. Nothing that had
happened could be even remotely explained by reality and Alex couldn't even remember what had really occurred.
The bathroom door opened and steam rolled out. "Maybe I should go alone," Chris said placing the towels in the laundry basket
by the door. "Then I could just say I got lost from my sister and after trying to look for her, just went home. I don't really
know why I was there and it seems like a plausible explanation."
"I'll go with you," Alex said, putting on a coat, "but if you prefer, I won't go up to the house. I just don't want to leave
you on your own."
Chris nodded and walked towards the door. "I guess we should go now," he said. Alex locked the door behind them and they both
walked down the stairs and to the metro station. The train was perfectly on time and as always, Alex took the fourth car from
the driver. The ride was a normal rickety stop-and-go trip through New York's gray jungle of steel. The buildings faded off
into normal small housing of New York City's factory cousin: Brooklyn. Chris had fallen asleep by the time the train pulled
up to the appropriate station and Alex gently woke him up before helping his sleepy companion down to a taxi. The car drove
them past several parks to the address Chris had given him and pulled up in front of a medium sized white house. The roof
and garden in front of it was well cared for, but there was a police car in the driveway and an officer talking to someone
at the door.
"Thanks," Chris said getting out of the back, "you can come in if you want."
Alex smiled and got out of the back of the taxi. He paid the driver and went towards the door. When Alex got to the porch,
a somewhat short woman with shoulder-length red hair was crying and holding Chris tightly.
"Thank you very much," the woman said as she hustled Chris into the house. Alex nodded and wished the woman a pleasant day.
She returned the greeting, but turned to the police officer again.
"My daughter is still missing," she said. But that was the last thing Alex heard as he walked away towards the metro station.
Alex checked his watch again before looking towards the steps. Finally he could hear a teenager's clunky footsteps down the
stairs. The boy didn't say anything, but just sat down on the bench expectantly.
"How was the funeral?"
Chris shrugged. "Lots of crying."
Alex nodded. "There would be."
The train pulled up to the station with a normal squeal and opened up its doors with the usual rattle. Alex stepped in first
and took a seat on one closest to a window. Chris followed him but went straight to the refreshment table.
"Tea?" he asked, pouring himself a cup.
"No, thanks," Alex said laughing. The train started forward and soon went up into a perfectly lovely sunrise over farmland.
Persephone brought out her cards, but she and Chris started playing without Alex. He continued watching the purple and pink
watercolor sky slowly fade to a crystalline blue. The birds were waking up in the tall grass and trees beyond the cornfields.
A few little robins dotted the cloudless sky, diving for insects among the crops. At least, they were pleasant Saturdays.
Even if he couldn't remember them.
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