I've always just gone where the wind has taken me. There's never been much sense of direction, I've always just been looking. For the first time since I can remember, I have a sense of purpose, a sense of direction. Then why am I so miserable still? Why am I not more excited about this? I suppose I know this isn't the end of my journey. This is merely another beginning of sorts. After so many miles and so many months travelling, it's hard to get excited about finding a hidden toy train set, but nonetheless I have a new reason to keep going. Purpose is the most important reason for this journey anyways.
I hate waiting for trains. I rode on them for years, but I was just riding in the wrong direction. I know I have to go north. Always go toward the sun, that's been my policy. Frank thinks I know where I'm going. It's a matter of selling my security with him sometimes. He seems to respond better with my decisions when I'm sure of myself. I guess anyone would, but Frank more than most. It makes me wonder why he follows me when I have so many questions about where I am going and who I am. I guess it doesn't matter. At least I can watch other people while I'm here. I always wonder if anyone is on as big as a journey as me. I like creating stories in my head about my fellow passengers. I can't help it. Maybe it's a comfort thing. I think if all these other people are as lost as I am, then finding my treasure would somehow motivate them. Maybe my story will get out there.
"AAALLLLLL AABOOOOOAAARRRDDDD!" My thoughts are interrupted by the conductor. I've been so lost looking through this sea of faces, seeing musicians and old couples and young business people, it all is so interesting this world. Every time I see it, I'm reminded of how much I don't belong in this world. As I reach my seat I notice an elderly lady sitting alone crying. Something inside me makes me want to talk to her. She looks as lonely as I probably do. I sit next to her and say nothing. Maybe she'll initiate conversation. She looks up briefly and tries to cover her eyes. They're so full of pain and regret. She glances back briefly and gives me a fake smile.
"I'm dying." She says without hesitation. It sort of startles me. She's so poignant, maybe she can tell I'm not much for conversation. I can't really bring myself to say words back to her. "That's why you're here, right? To ask how I was doing?" She stares at me blankly.
"Not really," I said uncomfortably, not wanting to deal with her stare any longer, "well, maybe. You look like you needed to talk to someone. I'm not much of a talker, but I can listen."
"You seem like the type." It's like she knows me. She knows I don't like shallow conversations. "It's cancer, I've only got a few months to live." I'm sorry, even though I can't bring myself to say. "Worst part about the whole thing, is that I feel like I've barely lived. I worked in a small office my whole life and never done anything very exiting. I've had only one daughter, who has already passed.....in a terrible tragedy." Her pause made me curious but I didn't want to ask. "She had two children, I didn't even know until after it was too late. They were put under the state's supervision after the...accident."
"Are you going to tell me what happened or just keep skating around it?" I couldn't take it after two pauses. She obviously wanted to talk about it.
"I don't actually know. Police couldn't tell me. Something about abuse cases and such. I wasn't involved in her life anyways. I never knew her after she moved to the city." She seemed more hurt about this than the cancer. Amazing to me the heart of a mother. I never knew mine. This woman cares more about her dead daughter than she does about her wasted life. "She was the only good thing I did in my life. She was my only adventure. I can see you're on quite the adventure yourself." She looked at me inquisitively.
"I've been searching forever." I said out of obligation.
"You have her eyes." That took me off guard. "I didn't mean to throw you off there. You are the only person that's taken interest on this entire train. You'd think an elderly woman crying on a train would attract more attention. Nobody cares in this world. Nobody has the heart to follow their instincts."
"That's all I do."
"I know," she looked me up and down, "someone like you is exactly who I've been looking for. I want you to have this key." She hands me a keychain with a little tag that says the number 271. "It's nothing, it belonged to my grandson I guess, I found it in their abandoned house after the accident. It's just a train station locker key, but I came to connect with this child I've never met. Problem is, I can't find what train station it's from. Maybe along your journey you can find it."
The train came to a stop. "Thanks." I said hesitantly, knowing I have yet another useless objective. "I'll keep an eye out."
"I hope you find what you're looking for." She caught me off-gaurd again. Hope, there's a concept I haven't felt in a while. I guess I'll find Frank and keep going. Maybe I'll just stop by the lockers on the way out. 271 sounds like a good number. The woman was friendly enough, and I felt sorry for her. Not because she's dying, everyone dies, but because she couldn't finish her adventure. Since that's all I do, I'll help her finish hers.
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