Sidetracked

Ardell: Colliding

- Hamburg, Germany -

The brakes of the train squeal loudly, rousing Ardell from his nap with a start and a gasp of stale air. Gathering himself and realizing where he is, shaking off the veil of sleep, he tosses his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose. Fuck me, I'm still on this bloody train. It's not my birthday, though. At least, I don't think it is. Dear Christ, when was my last birthday?

The conductor's voice sounds over the speaker, and Ardell looks up at it blearily. Something in German. "Now arriving. Hamburg."

His eyes move downward, observing the now former passengers gathering their bags, rising from seats, jockeying for position, all attempting to disembark the train at the exact same time. No patience. Everyone must go at once. Including that family with the young daughter. Thank fuck, they're leaving. The mother gives one last lingering judgment of Ardell before sweeping her child in front of her and joining into the horde. Inside Ardell's mind, he entertains the fleeting thought of shouting after her, causing a scene in front of everyone, maybe making a few people miss their stop because their mouths are agape. I'm not a pedophile, lady! He smirks a little, then the minor touch of happiness is gone as soon as it arrived, and he watches as the woman guides her daughter to the gangway, the daughter passing a glance back at him with a tiny smile.

Fuck. He breathes out heavily at the thoughts and memories entering his mind, forced there by something so simple as a smiling child. He groans and passes a glance around the cabin.

"I imagine I'm gonna be seeing a lot of this." Ardell says aloud to himself, trying to get rid of his thoughts, before noticing the stewardess from before. He does his best to crack a smile. "Excuse me?"

The stewardess visibly sags and exhales heavily as she turns to Ardell, raising her eyebrows, not able to exert the effort of even a single word because she knows he wouldn't understand it, anyway.

"Is there any chance I can get a glass of water?" his sentence drags slowly to a close and he thinks for a moment, then mimes the movement of drinking water and finds the word in German, grimacing at how similar it is and how stupid he feels for not saying it sooner. "Wasser?"

She responds in German with a grimace. "I'm sorry. You'll have to go to the bar car for that. Refreshment delivery is for Business Select passengers only."

Ardell groans internally. I didn't get any of that except for "Business Select."

The stewardess seems to notice the blank stare, and speaks broken English. "Go to bar car. Delivery is for Business Select."

He plasters on his gameshow host smile again. "Business Select again, eh? Yeah. Thanks." Ardell scoffs and turns his attention out the window. "Can't even get a bloody glass of water..."

The same dance is happening beyond the glass. Overeager passengers attempting to board before the tired and anxious ones on board have had a chance to step off. He shakes his head at their ignorance. People never change, do they? "Stand clear of the doors as the train stops." And what do people do? Huddle around it like it's the last fuckin' fire in Antarctica. Buncha tits.

The mother and daughter appear for a brief second in the crowd, the young girl stumbling over her own feet as children tend to do.

Ardell watches, chuckling gently. And then, to his chagrin, his mind starts to wander down the darkening hole of thoughts. They hadn't caught up to him until now, the glory of sleep still holding him like a gentle hug. But here he is again, spiraling. His eyes fall downward, and his vision clouds a bit. Those memories... they're always gonna be there, aren't they? You can't outrun them. You can't forget them. And just when you think you're alright, that you've drifted off to sleep and found some fucking peace, there they are in your dreams. The thoughts keep spinning, until--