The Silver Falcon

Part 4

"Abeer?" I was jolted back to the present, realizing I had been staring down at the digital control panel with a livefeed to all the trains in Indian.

"Well what do you think we should do?" The head conductor, Riya, asked, her eyes narrowed at me. She seemed like the kind of woman who wouldn't stand for nonsense. Luckily, the problem was simple. Though the train was almost fully automated, it needed at least one certified conductor and certified engineer on retainer. The problem was that of the two certified engineers, one had gotten food poisoning, and the other's wife was having a baby and was getting off at the next stop. The next certified individual wouldn't be here for another twelve hours.

But I didn't have twelve hours.

I might not even have one.

"The solution is simple," I said, feeling like fate had tossed me a bone for the first time that day. "I'm a certified engineer, and I'm going to the end of the line. Just keep the train on course and between this stop and the next I'll fill out the necessary paperwork."

After that it was fairly straightforward, and Riya, despite my protests, gave me a deep blue jacket lined in the silver, the standard uniform. She led me to the very front to the train, to a glass room that offered a three-way view of the train rushing forward. The center of the room held a clear panel that I knew could be activated with a thumbprint. She gestured to the low cushioned bench that circled the room.

"You can just have a seat here. We'll call you if we need anything, though I don't expect to." She paused and cleared her throat, then held out her hand and gave me a brief, firm handshake.

"We're happy to have you here, sir."

"It's my pleasure."

She held up a hand to the com attached to her head, cocking her head and silent for a moment as some communication was relayed to her. I prayed it wasn't more problems. But then a smile finally broke through her stern face. "I've been informed there's someone here to see you."

This time it was my turn to be surprised.

"Who?"

I had deliberately dressed casually, and even bought my ticket to try and avoid anyone recognizing me and complicating the trip. But she only gave me a mysterious smile and walked out of the room.

I sat for some time, watching the countryside flash by, until another man entered the room. I stood and I turned to the man who stood before me, sharp in the blue and silver lined colors of the rail line.

"Abeer! I had no idea you would be here!" He rushed forward and pulled me into a hug.

It took me a moment to recognize the polished man before me, but then I laughed. "Krish! Look at you!" I gestured to his outfit and he grinned and laughed, straightening the collar.

"I had no idea you were working here," I said in amazement. We had gone to school together, from villages only a few miles apart, but it had been years since I had seen him.

"Got hired to work on the rail-line. Best job I ever had. You must be going home? Going to see your parents?" My hands tightened on the suitcase, not even realizing I was still holding it.

"No," for the first time a bit of my excitement dropped away. "No they passed away a few years back. I haven't been back... since school really."

"That's too bad." He clapped me on the shoulder, and somehow he saw my fear, and spoke honestly, "But it's never too late to go home. Home won't forget you." He winked.

We passed the next few hours talking about where our lives had taken us after school. Krish told me about how the rail line and new trains had brought new life and purpose to the cities. His chest stood out as he talked about the safer jobs, and the money he made for his family back home. He showed me a picture of his two little girls, Diya and Mayra, and I was shocked when I realized that I recognized his wife, Aditi. A few times he paused, as if to let me jump in and talk about my family, but I didn't, so after the awkward moment he continued on. The suitcase had never felt heavier as I held it in my lap. I was both happy and sad to see him, the strange nostalgic feeling of the past as I wondered how much I had really remembered, and how much I had forgotten.

"Well, Abeer, I need to get back to work. But promise we'll stay in touch?"

"Yes, of course."

He winked and left, and I rested my head against the cool window, watching the fields of green whip by, the unending blue sky stretched out above.

Promise we'll stay in touch. I couldn't shake the words. And this time I didn't want too. I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was young again, the full moon high above, and nervous and unsteady as a young horse just learning to stand.