Unraveling

Ninety-five times out of a hundred you can stop on the railroad tracks and nothing will happen. At least that's what my Grandmother says. Thing is, how do you know which number you are, or how many people have tested their luck before you? I don't think there's much to be done for it. I don't stop on the tracks ever. I stop behind the arm. 

Today, I saw this man stop at a red light, at an intersection where the trains come precisely six times a day. I have mapped out where the trains still run here and how often they come. I know the routes of each railroad and where they switch. At least for the roads that I travel every day.

No one knows this. I mean, I don't talk about it at parties or anything. I'm at least smart enough to know that people would find it bizarre if I started reciting the CSX schedule. But, this man, he just rolled his car onto the tracks even when the sign said, "Do not stop on the tracks," and he just sat there fiddling with his radio like he was sitting in his driveway. I don't get people like that. I mean, how do you not think about it? 

I imagine death likes people like that man. Making work easier and faster, however it works so he doesn't have to keep slipping on his damn hooded cloak and leaving his apartment when he's binge watching Dead Like Me. People think it's fine to stop like that, and that the odds of them being the ninety-fifth person to stop on the tracks are pretty slim. As far as they're concerned, they are the first. But, one hundred years ago, probably fifty percent of parents outlived their children. People died on clipper ships and sunk down to the bottom of the Atlantic. I read there are at least twenty shipwrecks off the coast of Florida alone. All those skeletons posing like museum displays. Gives me the shivers. 

And, yeah, also, people shared an ice cream spoon with a best friend and died from small pox a week later. Women laid in their bedrooms giving birth and bled to death. People jumped off of trains in the next town trying to find work and broke their necks. People looked at death lounging in their parlors when their relatives passed as the bodies awaited burial. But, these people knew better than to stop on the tracks, or to sit on the tracks with their horses and buggies. They knew better than to rest their feet on the line when they got rocks in their shoes. 

These people knew it was best to steer clear of the tracks. They had seen too many pictures in the papers. They knew what it looked like when a train de-railed and twisted itself like muscadine vines around an oak canopy. They knew what it looked like to see hands and feet standing like burnt out trunks on the ground a quarter mile from the wreckage. They knew what it was like to wonder if those hands belonged to their fathers. I don't know what my Grandmother meant when she told me the odds of getting hit by a train. I haven't slept since she showed me those pictures. 

Reviews

[1809 Black Plague Decem..]

Hello, Dear Ellis, it is great as it is,
The whole story chuckled me in good humor,
the odds of making it in the rail-tracks,
the notion of the world,
you accountability it, and I fancy that
it is a rarety,
the outcome makes me think, I want to know, LOL
a classic ending, love it!
-----1809 Black Plague December

[Eilis]

Hi, there. Thanks for your kind words on the story. I’m glad you enjoyed!

[1809 Black Plague December]

most welcome Dear, :P

[Matthew Daalling]

That was amazing. I was right there at those tracks. Thank you for sharing.

[Eilis]

Thanks, Matthew. Sorry for the late reply

[carl]

enjoyed the read. I don't read many stories but was attracted to yours b/c it is short. I am a slow reader. Enjoyed your narrative, very easy and leads right along in an interesting comfortable manner. Good closing. Amazing how many things grandmas tell us become go to hallmarks of our life. I have several the Granny passed along to me. Thanks for the post -carl

[Eilis]

Thanks so much for taking the time to read, Carl. I’m glad you found something here to connect with.

[SkinlessFrank]

I enjoyed the tone of this piece. At one level it could be taken as playful, but with a bit of reflection it is chilling, and telling of a disconnection between life and death, as though the consequences of one or the other have equal footing. It brings me back to all those casual events of self-destructiveness not so long past.

[Eilis]

I look back on a lot of my writing in that way. Could be playful or whimsical or some sort of elegance in the rendering but there is always the chill underneath. I see that now more clearly which may be why I find it difficult to write now. A certain new awareness and feeling it is somehow profane to speak so openly of things. It’s like finding a way out of the forest and into a new culture where your old ways make no sense anymore. There has been a lot of casual self-destruction for me, yes. Thank you for seeing both sides. I appreciate your visits. Sorry I’m slow with my visits to your page.

[Chris Shaw]

Oh my Eilis this was some read and then that final line just shook me rigid. If that isn't enough to create anxiety and nightmares in a child I don't know what is. As a grandmother myself, I am protective of my grandkids, but your account here just leaves me almost speechless. Yes, the book of us, it all goes in there. All these experiences make or break us. Sadly too often it can be the latter. Brave write.

Chris

[Eilis]

Thank you for your thoughtful response, Chris. There are many things here that I wrote years ago without really understanding them fully. But so many things are becoming clear to me now and it’s not always easy looking back on the rawness of some of my writings. I appreciate your understanding. As a mother, I know it’s not always easy to know what’s right or best, but I think some things shouldn’t be too hard to understand. Thank you again, I always appreciate your time.

[CD Campbell]

One thing about the old days is that the were probably never boring. At least not boring in the sense that you knew everything could kill you. I say bring back the old days. We need that old fashioned fear to keep everything in perspective. Anxiety is meant to keep us alive. I have anxiety speaking in front of crowds. How's that gonna kill me? Sure there is some evolution thing going on. Maybe deaths favorite type of person is one where fear is gone and arrogance has replaced it. Love that paragraph BTW. I think that it's only natural when viewing morbid pics of trainwreck victims to be either, A. scarred for life and develop a type of fear or anxiety or B. Become a psychopath who enjoys said morbid pics of dead trainwreck victims. Is it OK to say that I enjoyed this work of yours? It was well written.

[Eilis]

Hey, CD, thanks for the interesting take on this. I was raised on a heavy diet of anxiety as were my siblings—unreasonable and psychotic anxiety. It affected us all in different ways but I think the one constant is an inability to connect to much of anything as though things can be real beyond fear. I was laughing when I wrote this but it was also therapeutic. Being able to spill out some of that venom that built me and laugh at it if only for a moment. The stories of what makes us, the book of us, sometimes it’s terrifying to stand before it and see it as real. But sometimes there’s just enough distance to laugh. Those are the moments of clarity, I think. Where they lead is one of life’s great mysteries, for me. Thanks for reading my stuff and truly reading. I am always grateful for your feedback.

[CD Campbell]

My pleasure Em. The book of us. We each have a fucked up story. I hope we're able to distance ourselves from that old story one day and live a new one.

[Casey Truax]

It is interesting to see you write in a more casual style that still echoes with the themes of your poetry. I am also baffled by how careless people can be with an intrinsically dangerous activity like driving. That death has become less visible in everyday life ("lounging in their parlors") than ever before may be a factor. Or it may be complacency or the delusion of being exceptional or old-fashioned fatalism. I have heard that sometimes what we call depression is really just clarity, and perhaps anxiety is the same.

[Eilis]

Hey, Casey. I have thought that about depression. I suppose it’s a matter of trying to find a way to embrace clarity without being destroyed by it. A concept I am continually working on. Thank you for your thoughtful comment and for taking the time to read. I always enjoy your ideas.

[gram linski]

great depths of paranoia and life, lol, no-one knows the number of the train/beast, we must do as we see fit, and if that means sitting in front of an oncoming train, so be it, a good deal of humour in this dark piece

[Eilis]

Haha, never thought of it that way. The guy that stops on the tracks having an agenda of his own. Perhaps I need to write his story next.

I’m glad the humor came through. It was my intention. Sometimes I think I only make myself laugh. Thanks for reading this longer one. And for the great comment, as ever. Always appreciated by me

[Robert Trakofler]

The mechanisms for cause and effect... well they are effective:) but occasionally they can be defective if said person having witnessed a person get hit by a train while tying shoelaces on the tracks was wearing a red shirt in some folks they would never cross the tracks wearing a red shirt and in some other folks they wouldn't dream of crossing the tracks before tying their shoelaces first... now we can deduce that non of these things Have anything to do with getting hit by the train but the mechanisms don't care about logic they are hard wired in our brains they have a function just sometimes the function gets short circuited. Much like a panic attack that gets triggered from the image of a man crossing the tracks with a red shirt or the sound of a train whistle as you are tying your shoelaces. we can objectively see that there is no relation but the panic still comes. The secret is to know that the only "control" in life is the one that makes us think we are in control... control is in fact an illusion, death never gets to watch soap operas for nothing is predetermined

[Eilis]

There’s a lot of wisdom in what you say here, Robert. The first time I had a panic attack I was 19 and crossing the bridge between the Florida mainland and the Florida Keys. It took me a long time to disconnect the two. Still that can get to me if I’m not in the right frame of mind. I don’t understand my own illness or reactions most of the time. I know things objectively but that never helps when that primitive mind is in control.

So, I appreciate your musing here. This character is lost in ideas and possibilities. That can be good if they are the right sort of ideas and possibilities. Or it can be destructive. Trying to tell someone suffering under this kind of pressure to change focus is about as useful as telling an ant to stop working. It’s just got to work itself to a point where control can be relinquished. Or, like you say, the illusion of control.

Thanks for reading and understanding this. And for adding some depth to the idea.

[Robert Trakofler]

Your conveyance was perfect Eilis, and the bunny knows much of panic triggers... always behind them are true feelings quite often unresolved ones that seem to resurface in inopportune ways:( I'm not saying I don't still have them on occasion but they do seem to have lost a lot of their power over me:)

[Eilis]

I’m glad to hear that for you, BB. Thanks again