The Solitaire Commuter

Edward Duffy was a man of habit. Ed worked at the old Chicago Public Library. Ed traveled in and out of the city by way of train. For twenty years now, he would rise early. Then after a full day of work he would return to the station and arrive back in Harvard where he lived. On Fridays, he would pick up a pizza on the way home.

Joe Thompson, a conductor on that line for sixteen years, was a good friend of Ed’s. They spoke often. Once Joe left to do his job, Ed would open his briefcase and extract a deck of playing cards and deal round after round of solitaire, Canfield.

One day Ed left work without his playing cards. As Joe stepped out of the open vestibule onto the station platform he spotted Ed and waved.

“What’s up buddy?”

“Ah, nothing, I just forgot my cards, that’s all. How about this crazy rain, huh?”

“There’s more coming to.” Joe responded.

Ed boarded the train, took his seat and waited. No cards. The train slowly filled and left the train yard. It was a long train, twelve cars. Ed sat in his seat and fidgeted with his briefcase. No cards.

Bored, Ed stared blindly out his window. The rhythmic movement of the train was hypnotic. It was not long before his eyes rested once, twice and then for the first time in twenty years, of commuting, Edward Duffy was asleep.

. . .

Ed woke with a startle. The lights in his car had gone out. He realized that he must have slept for some time, because his car was vacant of fellow passengers. Looking around he quickly calculated he must be around Barrington. He needed to find Joe. When he rose to get out of his seat he nearly lost his balance. “Jeez!” he said to no one out loud. He looked outside the window again and realized they were going very fast. Too fast.

He moved forward through the car number one. He advanced through the connecting doors from car one onto car number two. As he opened the door to the next car, it went dark. “Damnit!” As he neared car three, it went dark. No one in sight. Lightning spilled shadows into the corners of the steel machine. They were supposed to stop, every stop-remember? Who the hell is driving this train? Where is Joe?

Cars four and five were the same and as he approached the middle of the train he could see all the lights in the forward cars go out, one by one. Nothing in front of him, nothing behind. He began to get scared. He was perspiring heavily and his eyes were not adjusting well to the darkness. The rain was pounding on the steel roof and laying diagonal incisions on the windows. Ed lost his nerve and began running. If Joe cannot be found, at least the driver might be able to help. He ran through cars six, seven, eight, and nine. All dark, all empty. Ed cried out, “Joe, where the hell are you?!?”The train took a sharp turn in the track and nearly left the iron rails shaking the cars from side to side. In car ten, Ed flew head first into three chairs, bruising his forehead. He lie on the floor in the aisle. His right arm, above his head, swept around to help lift him, when it brushed over a foreign object. He latched onto it and lifted it to his face. It was an abandoned umbrella. He used it to raise his aching body. He had regained his balance, holding on to the umbrella and the back of a seat, when he first saw the THING…

Back two cars a large figure draped in a blanket of some sort was racing through the car. A savage face hid in the shadow of the hood. An over exaggerated grin, like that on a jack-o-lantern, cradled two sunken eye sockets filled with fires from Hell. Edward Duffy’s hair stood on end as he wet his trousers. He turned and kicked his heels, nearly busting the door off the hinges trying to get into car eleven. He sprinted to car twelve, he slid the umbrella through the door handle, then bent it. It would delay this THING for a little while. As he watched this demon approaching he froze, hypnotized by the eyes in the hood, smoldering like the hot embers of two cigars becoming brighter with a gentle drag. Something told him to move! He ran through the twelfth car. Empty, dark. Where the hell was everyone? He was crying now. The train was traveling at a fatal speed, over 100 miles per hour. He realized for the first time, he was going to die. He turned and ran to the last car.

He thought of the lavatory. It has a lock. He could hide there. The monster behind him was howling with frustration as it worked the lock restraint. Ed pushed feverishly on the door handle to the bathroom. It gave way as the door swung hard inside. Joe, the conductor, stood erect, eyes in a ghastly stare, hat tilted to one side. A hole the size of a small pizza was centered in his chest. Vital organs hung about the edges of the fatal wound. The corpse of the dead conductor leaned forward and fell onto Ed. Ed screamed as he pushed the body back. Finally, the movement of the train itself pushed poor Joe aside. The door at the other end of the car smashed open. IT was in the car with Ed. A twisted laugh filled Ed’s ears. He swung around and started flailing his arms against the car door. Blood, his blood, smeared across the window of the door as he wailed against it, total disregard for his frantic hands. Finger nails busting and small cuts inflicted the hands of a man about to be devoured by Satan himself. Ed could hear himself screaming with horror. His mouth stretched in a wrench of terror and suddenly mutated into laughter. Sick laughter. He was losing his mind. He laughed hard as he finger-painted his blood into crazy shapes on the window before him. The strong odor in the room, a stench from Hell, made him laugh. He felt the icy grip of death grab his shoulder firmly, securing him. He roared with insane laughter. The hand shook his shoulder back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

. . .

Ed sat in his seat, now dripping with urine, as Joe, his conductor and friend, stood over him wearing a face of distress. More faces filled the train car, above on the upper deck as well as the seats around him. Lightning & thunder outside struck and snapped Ed back into the car he was riding in. Joe was talking, but Ed could not hear him at first. A little bit, then some more, when finally the whole sentence fit in Joe’s mouth and came out audible. “Ed, are you alright? You just fell asleep. That’s all.”