The Train Ride

By Clarisse Gamblin

The landscape outside jerked by unsettlingly every few seconds. Maggie usually liked riding the train; it seemed like such a lovely relic of another era, plus it was a somewhat novel experience since they hadn’t had a train where she had grown up. Today, though, she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy it. All she could think was that it was starting to look like rain and she hadn’t remembered to bring an umbrella.

“Maggie Fischer? God, you look fantastic.”

Maggie looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered man with light brown hair standing over her. He wasn’t exactly movie-star handsome. But he was the kind of guy who always seemed to draw people to him, who you might even develop an unexplainably all-consuming crush on after he flirted with you a few times in psych-101 (and Maggie knew because she had done just that back in school).

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me,” he said, his smile faltering slightly due to Maggie’s silence. “It’s Tom. From college.”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I was just surprised to see you.”

Tom gestured to the seat. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

He sat down before Maggie had a chance to respond. So instead she asked, “Do you live in Connecticut now?”

Tom shook his head. “No, but my wife’s family does. See, we’re here for her sister’s wedding, and today they were going to a dress fitting, and something with the caterer – I don’t know exactly. But at a certain point I just started to feel in the way and so I jumped on the train and thought I’d do a bit of sightseeing. The towns around here are really quaint, aren’t they?”

Maggie nodded. “Yes, some of them.”

“Where do you live?” Tom asked.

“Old Saybrook.”

“Really?  That’s just where I was thinking about stopping off.”

Maggie had a sneaking suspicion that he was lying, but she smiled anyway. “What a funny coincidence.”

“Or fate.” Tom smiled one of his charming, lopsided grins. Except it wasn’t as charming as Maggie remembered it being. His lips were chapped and his teeth had yellow stains, the kind people get from drinking too much coffee and red wine.

“So,” Tom began again after a few seconds of silence, “what would you recommend I do in Old Saybrook? Any good sightseeing spots? Restaurants?”

“There’s an old lighthouse that tourists seem to enjoy,” Maggie said. “Although it looks like rain, so one of the local museums might be better.”

Tom leaned forward towards her. “Maybe you could show me around. It’d be nice to catch up, anyway.” He made it sound like some great conspiracy between them.

“I’m not sure, I have sort of a busy afternoon,” Maggie replied.

Tom smiled again, apparently still confident in his ability to win her over. “Come on, half an hour. For old times’ sake.”

Maggie nodded, a bit unenthusiastically. “Alright.”

The train started to slow to a stop, and once it did, Maggie and Tom stood up from their seats and exited the train onto the platform.

Tom gave her a not-so-subtle once over. “You really do look great, you know. If I’d have known you’d turn out this gorgeous…”

“If you’d have known, then what?” Maggie asked pointedly.

In response, Tom only glanced at her with a confused expression, so Maggie let it drop. “Well, you look exactly the same,” she lied.

Tom smirked, clearly no more humble about his looks now than he had been as a student. Finally realizing that Maggie wasn’t going to compliment him further, he looked around and asked, “so, where to?”

“I’m sorry, I think I left something on the train,” Maggie said, gesturing behind her. “Just wait here.”

She stepped back onto the train and made her way back to her seat. Instead of looking around for something when she got there, though, she simply sat down again. The truth was that she hadn’t left anything behind.

The train started to move again, and through the window Maggie could see Tom looking around in annoyance. It wasn’t revenge, exactly, that had made her leave him there. She wasn’t sure what it was, actually. Perhaps it was that, in another town several stops back, he had a wife and a family. Or perhaps it was just too unsettling to realize how easy it was to fall out of love. There had been a time when she was so infatuated with Tom that she had drunk herself half to death on cheap vodka and wine coolers. And once she had dyed her hair merely because of a passing comment he’d made about liking redheads. It was funny and strange to realize that now she cared very little whether she ever saw him again. She even thought that she would prefer it if she didn’t.

The conductor was coming down the aisle to check for tickets. When he reached Maggie she held out her old ticket. “I decided to go a few stops farther. How much would it be to go to New London?”

“Four-fifty, miss.”

“Thank you.” She dug the money out of her purse and handed it to him.

Turning towards the window, Maggie saw that tiny droplets of rain were beginning to pelt the glass, getting louder and heavier by the second. She really should have brought an umbrella.

Clarisse Gamblin is a recent graduate of Indiana University, where she received a BA in Cinema and Media Arts.  In addition to writing fiction, she has written and directed several short films which have been screened at festivals across the United States.  In her free time, she enjoys traveling, photography, and music.