Here is the begining of the Polar Express story using the new Streamliner set as the train. As time permits and I can think the story out more, I will be adding more chapters, so stay tuned.
The Polar Express: Journey’s End
By Richard Anderson
December 2015
1
Christmas Eve was starting out like every other for the last few years since the Old Man arrived at the home for the elderly. “It’s time for your meds sir”, said the nurse. “Just leave them on the table and I’ll take them when I’m ready”, grumbled the Old Man. “Just make sure you take them this time” The nurse replied. She then added, “Goodnight and Merry Christmas” as she quietly closed the door and left him there in the room in silence, alone. The only light was a small Christmas tree on the little desk he sat at as he turned in his chair to stare back out the window. As a soft snow began to fall, he gazed upon the white covered landscape as the snow glittered in the light of the full moon. The trees were shimmering as if they had lights of their own strung amongst the branches. The houses up and down the street glimmered in their multi colored lights, ready for Santa to arrive to leave Christmas joy for children the following morning. He mumbled to no one in particular, other than the shadows in the room,” I guess God and Santa both forgot me again this year”.
He has been alone now for the last few years since his wife of 51 years went to be with Jesus and their Son who they lost while deployed overseas many years ago. That’s what he told everyone when asked if he has any family coming to visit, “All up in Heaven now. My Sister is in a home in Upstate New York. Only family I have left. Haven’t been able to see her in years.” Now a days it’s just “My Nurse when she comes to stuff me full of these horse pills.” He thought about the last time he was able to visit her. It saddened him that she didn’t even seem to realize he was in the room with her, or remember who he was. Since he has been in this home, he hasn’t been able to travel to visit anymore. He got letters from the staff telling him how she is doing, other than that; he has had no more contact. The last letter he received was over six months ago to inform him that she succumbed to the Alzheimer’s and if he could make it to the funeral.
Memories of years and Christmas’s past began to flood his mind as he gazed out the window upon the wintery wonderland before him. One memory came back as clear as if it was only an hour ago. One he hadn’t thought of in, well, seems like forever. When in the middle of the night he was awakened by the sound of clanging steel and a blast of a whistle as a shiny black steam train rolled to a stop in front of his house. He remembered the shock of that as there were no tracks that ran down the middle of the street. But, oh what a ride and what a night he thought he would never forget. Other memories of other Christmas’s flashed through his mind. Times with his family, trips home from college, or when he got leave from a duty station. The first Christmas as a newlywed, thier child's first Christmas and subsequent years all flew by in an instant.
He got up and went to his night stand, and as he has done every Christmas Eve since that night, he pulled open the drawer and took out a small worn velvet sack. The only thing he owns now other than a few photos and some clothes. He reached inside and pulled out a shiny bell, the first gift of Christmas from that magical night. After 80 some years, it still shined like it was illuminated by some inner light that never extinguishes. Whether through loss of hearing, or just losing faith entirely, he had to strain to hear just the faintest of rings when he put it up to his ear and gave it a slight shake. He carefully put it back inside the bag, then back into its spot in the drawer. He decided to leave the little tree lit tonight as he turned to open the window to let in some of the cold night air.
He stood at the window for a moment to breath in the fresh air, and from down the street, bells began to ring from the nearby church, celebrating the coming of Christmas day and the birth of a Savior over 2000 years ago. Passages from the book of Luke began to scroll through his mind of the birth of the Baby Jesus as the bells continued their melodic ringing. He stopped going to church after his wife passed, and thought that maybe he should go in the morning for Christmas day service. “That’s if these prison guards will ever let me out,” he chuckled to himself.
He turned from the window and went to his bed, with a little hope that Santa might visit him one last time tonight. His heart seemed to skip a beat at the thought and he smiled as he mumbled, “Just foolish old wishes from a foolish old man.” Then let out a small chuckle. He laid down and pulled the covers up to his chin. He closed his eyes as Christmas visions began to fill his mind once again. One dream in particular, which he hadn’t dreamed about since childhood, came rolling through his mind’s eye, The Polar Express. He fell asleep upon the instant, never taking his medicine still sitting on the desk.
2
Sometime during the night, the Old Man stirred, like being awoken from an unexpected sound, and the subconscious deems it not important and tells you to go back to sleep. He rolled over, adjusted his pillow to fall back into his slumber, when a slight vibration slightly shook the bed. The kind you would feel during a slight earthquake. “We’re not in an earthquake prone area,” he thought. Just as he was about to dismiss it, the vibration began again. It increased in intensity as it seemed the walls themselves would shake themselves down. As he sat bolt up in bed, he was sure the staff would be running the halls to evacuate the residence, but nothing came. No knocks on the door. No alarms blaring. Nothing. Just then an immense bright light shown through the window then begin to angle off.
A familiar, but oddly different noise began to fill the air. The squeaking of steel wheels upon steel rails, but another sound was mixed in. Instead of the chug chug sound he remembered, a mechanical throbbing filled the air. As the sound got closer, there was a loud blast of an air horn filling the night sky. He made his way to the window as he saw a train begin to make its stop right there in front of the Retirement Home. This was definitely not the Polar Express he rode on. There was no immense black locomotive at the head, bellowing steam as if a living breathing being. At the front was a sleek set of locomotives with rounded noses and a third unit tucked in-between. Behind was a long line of equally sleek, smooth sided passenger cars. From the many windows along the side, their interior lights cast a yellowish glow upon the new fallen snow. The only thing familiar about this train was the off blue color and the dark red stripe that started at the front engine running all the way back to the last car. The Old Man read the name that was emblazoned in large gold lettering along the side of each unit, The Polar Express. The lead engine number board brightly eliminated its number of 1225 while the middle unit was numbered 1223 and the last locomotive was numbered 1224.
Without changing out of his pajamas, he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his heavy coat and fedora hat then made his way to the door. He paused as something like a far off voice told him to retrieve the bag tucked away in his night stand. He hurried back, pulled the drawer open and put the bag with bell into his zippered coat pocket then made his way back to the door. He stopped to try and hear if anyone was up and about, awakened by the sound of the train stopping in front of the building. Though his hearing was poor now, he didn’t hear anything and quietly turned the knob to his door and cracked it open for a peek. No one was moving about; even the night nurse was asleep at her desk. He pulled the door open and crept out into the hall and made his way to the door that leads to the courtyard beyond. Once outside, he felt the sting of the cold against his face, turning his cheeks and nose a bit red. He pulled his coat tighter as he began to shuffle his way to the train.
Just then, the door to the first coach car behind the baggage car, swung open as a set of steps swung down from the compartment they were stowed in. First out was an old style railroad lantern casting its glow on the grown below, followed by a tall figure shadowed by the light behind him. He could make out a conductors hat upon the figures head but nothing else. As he moved closer, the figure stepped down from the train and began to approach him. A voice The Old Man has not heard for nearly 80 years, boomed across the yard with the unmistakable nasally trait. “Well.., ya coming?” The Old Man just stammered as he did when he was a child, “wha,wha, where?” The figure came into the full light, revealing it was the train’s conductor. “My God,” the Old Man whispered, “you haven’t aged a day.” “Why to the North Pole, of course,” the conductor replied with the same words he uttered all those years ago. “This is the Polar Express,” he finished as he smiled warmly at the Old Man. He continued, “The thing about trains. It doesn’t matter where they’re going..”, “What matters is getting on,” the Old Man finished. “Exactly!” the Conductor exclaimed. He leaned in towards the Old Man and continued softly, “Santa has not forgotten you, and more importantly, God hasn’t either.” He pulled out his pocket watch, flipped the lid open to look at the time. “Whoa! We have got to get going! We are on a very tight schedule, and I have not been late before, and I’m not going to start tonight!”
The Conductor turned to head back to the train. He paused, turned and looks at the Old Man still standing motionless in the snow as if in some kind of trance. “Young man, you do not want miss this train. I guarantee that!” The words snapped the Old Man out of his stupor as he asked, “Why do I not want to miss this train?” The Conductor answered back, “Remember when I told you the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see?” “Yes,” the Old Man replied. “Let’s just say that things once hidden out of sight, things you thought you would never see, or see again, people you thought were gone, all will be revealed to you tonight. That is if you chose to climb aboard. This will be the most important and crucial night you will ever know.” The Conductor paused a moment as if in thought, then added, “You trusted me all those years ago. Do you trust me tonight?”
The Old Man though a moment as curiosity and the need to know what the Conductor was rambling on about things finally being revealed made his decision for him. “Alright,” he said, “I trusted you before, I see no reason now not to trust you again” He grabbed the hand rail and put his foot on the first step to climb aboard when the Conductor stopped him again. “I almost forgot, you must have a ticket to board.” The Old Man looked at him dumbfounded and said somewhat annoyed, “I don’t have a ticket. How could I have a ticket for a train ride I never booked?” The Conductor reached into his jacket and pulled out a ticket then handed it to the Old Man. He looked the ticket over. This wasn’t the same ticket he had the first time he rode the Polar Express. That ticket was gold with a relief of the train that appeared to be coming straight out of the center of the special paper it was printed on. This ticket was silver in color with an image of the new train he was now boarding on the front. On the back two large red letters in a blue oval only read PE.
The Conductor continued, “This ticket and this journey have already been paid in full, long before you were born. Now we don’t have time to waste. We must get this train moving! There are other stops we have to make before our final leg to the North Pole.” The Conductor moved aside as the Old Man climbed up into the warm coach and into the main cabin filled with seats separated by tables. He wondered what the Conductor meant by his trip being paid in full when he heard the Conductor shout from the door, “All aboard! All aboard the Polar Express! Final destination, the North Pole!”
The Conductor closed the door, reached for the radio and contacted the Engineer. “We are secure, all ahead to our next destination.” The Old Man took a seat mid-way down as he removed his coat and hat and laid them down on the seat next to him. The familiar sound of air being released from the breaks broke the stillness that settled inside the car. Two long loud blasts from the air horns pierced the night as the lurch of the train shuddered the car while the Engineer began to open the throttle, bringing the diesel engines to life. Thick black smoke rolled from the exhaust stacks and the long train began to creep forward. Moving faster as more power was added. The clickity clack of the wheels rolling on the tracks began to fade into a more rhythmic sound as the train reached its set cruising speed.
The Old Man was the only passenger in this car as the Conductor walked down the aisle to the rear door. “I must make my rounds and check on the other passengers.” With that, he slid the door open and disappeared into the next car as the door closed behind him, leaving the Old Man there alone. With many questions now running through his mind, and no quick answers that apparently will not be reveled any time soon, he settled back into his seat to watch the night time scenery slip past in the brilliance of the full moon.
