Last train

The last train - where will it take you? - I have recently revised this piece. I hope I have made it better? :)

Timmy stood quietly in Uncle Joe’s shadow, watching as he reeled in the fish. Timmy wasn’t strong enough to bring it in himself so Uncle Joe had taken over, His wrinkled hands shook a little and jerked as the line snapped, the fish escaped and Uncle Joe swore loudly. Timmy smiled blushing at the language, Uncle Joe didn’t curse often but whenever he did, it made Timmy want to laugh out loud. It was always rude and usually unsuitable for young ears but that just made Timmy enjoy it even more. He had never heard his mum swear, she always used “darn” or “drat” which Timmy felt didn’t express his emotions. So Uncle Joe’s outbursts were always very informative.

Timmy helped Uncle Joe pack up and worried a little when he saw him wince as he had to bend down. He had heard his mum saying that Joe was getting forgetful and might hurt himself. That’s why Timmy had decided he should come and stay with his uncle for a while just to watch over him, plus his mum had been ready for a break. The summer holidays always seemed hard on her.

As they sat on the bank together in the sun, Timmy sipped his drink watching the light bounce off the still lake; Uncle Joe drank a beer and cleaned out his ear with an old matchstick. Timmy was amazed at how much hair Uncle Joe had in there; he wondered if his ears would get hairy as he got bigger and really hoped that they wouldn’t.

Although Timmy was only ten he had a feeling that uncle was the closest thing he would ever have to a father. His mum was quite old, she got tired easily, and his father had died before he’d been born; so Uncle Joe was all he knew. Joe cleared his throat. “Timmy, my lad. I want you to take all these rods and baskets for yourself, when I’m gone”

Timmy put his juice down on the bank and looked at his uncle with confusion “Where you going Uncle Joe?” Uncle Joe smiled a little sadly. “Well, when I worked on the steam trains we used to say that the last journey we would take would be on that big train in the sky and I think it’s my turn to board. I heard the whistle the other day, means it’s coming and it’s my time. Got myself a one way ticket for that train, hope the destination is good cause there is no coming back.”

Timmy’s eyebrows knotted together as he thought about his uncle’s statement. “So, can I come, too?” He asked and watched his uncle laugh. “You’re far too young, but one day you will take that trip and I’ll be waiting on the train for you.” Timmy was still confused, but his uncle was getting up and gathering their belongings so Timmy helped and said no more about this mysterious journey.

Back at his uncle’s little house, Timmy thought some more about the train and the trip his uncle was going to take. He hoped it would be nice and although he was going to miss his uncle he remembered Uncle Joe had said that he would wait on the train for him. They cooked some chilli on Joe’s old gas stove and ate it with chunks of badly cut bread smeared thick with heart stopping slabs of butter. Timmy loved eating like this with his uncle, he knew his mum would go mad; she liked salad and vegetables, but as Uncle Joe said “There’s beans and tomato in that chilli they are as healthy as you need, good eatin.”

The evening passed quietly and Timmy waited till it was getting late to ask again about the train. “If the train is coming, can I stay up to wave you off? How long will I have to wait before I can visit you? Where will the train stop? Can I walk you to the station? Does Mum know you’re going away?” Uncle Joe sat still staring down at his book, deep in thought and at that moment Timmy heard far off in the distance the hoot of a train. Uncle Joe looked up sharply and smiled “I hear her now getting closer all the time; we may have to call your mum in the morning.”

Timmy smiled, too “I heard it Uncle Joe.” He said excitedly. Uncle Joe laughed. “You’re a sweet lad but you have to be pretty old to hear that train.” Timmy shook his head “I heard it, a whistle, way off.” Uncle Joe looked worried but then smiled again, Timmy was a lovely lad and as his sister Sheila’s only child he was a handful, full of tall stories “Sure you did Timmy” He said kindly “Now, let’s get you to bed little man.” Timmy decided not to argue and let himself be led upstairs to bed but he was sure he had heard the train whistle, no matter what his uncle said.

Uncle Joe said goodnight and headed to bed, Timmy got changed into his night clothes and turned out the light before climbing into his small hard bed with rocket ship sheets. As he began to feel sleepy he heard the sound again, Uncle Joe was wrong, he could hear the whistle and it was getting closer to the house. Timmy sat up in bed and pulled the curtains open excitedly, he looked out into the woods and realised he could see it. A train light weaving through the woods heading towards him, the sight of it made him eager and scared all at once. Quickly he got out of bed and sneaked down the hall; he stopped outside his uncle’s room and tapped lightly on the door.

He heard his uncle say “What is it boy?” He turned the door handle and went in. Uncle Joe was sitting up in bed looking out of his window with the curtains pulled apart. “What’s wrong?” He asked turning to face Timmy.

Timmy pointed to the window “The train is getting closer Uncle Joe, I can see the light.” Uncle Joe looked aghast, shocked at Timmy’s words “Now Timmy, don’t say things like that, you know you can’t see the train. You should be asleep in bed.”

Timmy ran to his Uncles window and pointed at the large shape racing through the woods getting ever closer. “It’s right there, it’s big and black and has a light on the front” Joe looked out again at the far off train. He couldn’t believe that he was finally seeing it. How could it be that his ten year old nephew was seeing it as well? Timmy smiled widely “We can go on the trip together Uncle Joe” He said cheerily.

Joe shook his head “No boy we can’t, this is a trip just for me, now you go to bed and think no more about it.” Timmy began to protest but Uncle Joe turned his head away and said “Bed, now youngen.” Timmy glanced once more at the train and then headed back to his room with his head hung low. He couldn’t understand why Uncle Joe didn’t want him on the trip or why he thought he was lying.

Timmy stood in the dark corridor and decided he would go anyway, when the train pulled up he would sneak on and keep his uncle company. Mum said Uncle Joe needed watching, so he would go along and make all was well. As he entered his room Timmy listened to the train whistle again, packing things he might need into a bag, he began to hum a soft happy tune.

 

 

The doctor stood beside the policewoman as they looked down grimly at Timmy’s mum “Mrs Williams, I’m afraid your brother and son didn’t make it” Sheila began to cry uncontrollably she felt huge sobs rack her body and she cried out as if she was in pain “Not my boy, how did this happen?”

The policewoman sat down next to Sheila. “Mrs Williams, it looks as though your brother forgot to turn the gas stove off. It was the gas that filled the small house and…I’m afraid they died of asphyxiation”

Sheila’s lowered head shook as she cried harder “He was forgetful, but I never thought…”

The policewoman put her hand gently on Sheila’s back “They didn’t suffer ma’am, it would have been totally painless, they didn’t suffer” Sheila shook her head in anguish but the policewoman wasn’t finished “Was your brother planning a trip with your son?” She asked.

Sheila looked up, her mascara had created black lines down her face and her lipstick was smeared. “A trip?” She repeated watching the policewoman nod “No, nothing…why?” She tried to wipe her eyes but fresh tears fell, blurring her vision and soaking the small tissue she was holding.

The policewoman put her hand into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, she passed it to Sheila “We found this on Timmy’s bed. He had a bag packed and was fully dressed. I don’t think he was running away, it seemed there was a journey planned”

Sheila tried to focus on the little bit of paper in her hand, it had been torn from Timmy’s drawing book and as she unfolded it she could make out his childish script.

‘Mummy, don’t worry about Uncle Joe. I am going on the train with him. I will look after him, I hope we can see you in a little while, although I’m not sure when. Uncle Joe says this is the last train but I will get them to make a stop for you soon. Love you lots, Timmy XX.’

Sheila put her hand to her mouth and sobbed into the letter. The policewoman got up and walked outside to the doctor, they nodded to each other and she headed towards her colleagues down the hall.

Sheila ran her finger over the crayoned words; the last thing her son had written. She felt it was a part of him and held it close to her heart; the doctor came in and sat beside her. “Mrs Williams we need you to sign some forms and talk to some people, when you feel up to it.” Sheila began to rise and fell back in her chair, a little flushed, her heart was racing.

The doctor saw her red face and went to the window. He opened it to let in some air and as he did Sheila could hear the unmistakable sound of a train whistle in the distance. “I can hear the train.” She said and a small smile made her wet eyes crinkle at the edges. The doctor looked at her a little worried “There is no train line near here Mrs Williams.” Sheila nodded but kept listening. Suddenly the whistle sounded again, closer and louder. The doctor left the room as Sheila felt her chest get tight and her arm tingle. She looked again at her son’s note. “All aboard.” She whispered quietly, her breath becoming laboured. A sad smile played on her lips as she gently folded up the note and put it into her pocket.

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

That made me cry too. You did Timmy beautifully. His voice was very clear. It's a talent to drop all the adult baggage when writing a child's voice.

Courtesy of the Constructive Critics Group
http://www.writerscafe.org/groups/Constructive-Critics/11057/

[magenta24uk]

Thank you very much. xx

[Zahra]

wow, this is really emotional and touching. Congratulations for a beautiful write

[magenta24uk]

thank you xx

[Marie]

It made me cry too. THis is a wonderful story. I'm hving a hard time getting this review to post. I hope it goes through this time.

[Marie]

It made me cry too. This is a wonderful story.

[Lykeios]

This piece literally made me cry. I don't usually get that emotional over things I read. It was beautifully written and an excellent interpretation of death. The only error I saw was "affixiation" which should be asphyxiation and that's really not importation as we all know what is meant.

Thank you for sharing this, it was truly a wonderful read.

[magenta24uk]

Thank you for this. I shall change it straight away!

[Lykeios]

No problem!