Soliloquies Anthology 30.1

The train sputtered through the night, making its careful trip over the rails. They’d left Bucharest earlier that day, and Ayaz had done the trip enough times to know they would be crossing into Germany in the morning.

He was clearing the restaurant after the final dinner service, and setting up the table for breakfast in the morning. All the other attendants had gone to watch over their sleeper car, and so he was left alone to finish up. He smoothed the wrinkles over the white tablecloth, then set down the clean porcelain plates and the silver forks, knives, and spoons. The glasses would be brought in before breakfast, as otherwise, the vibrations of the overnight train would have sent them clattering off, and nothing was worse than sweeping glass first thing in the morning.

With the final table set, he pushed the trolley toward the kitchen at the end of the restaurant car. The two cooks that were usually squeezed inside had gone to bed already, and Ayaz was ready to do the same. However, when he turned around, he saw a young woman sitting at one of the tables, her head turned toward the window, where her gaze was lost to the darkness. He hadn’t heard her come inside, which was strange. The door was always loud when it clattered open. 

“I’m so sorry miss,” he told her in English. “The restaurant car is closed. Would you like me to escort you back to your room?”

He didn’t know how she’d gotten out of her car without one of his coworkers stopping her. As she didn’t move, he came to the table and set his hand on the corner of the smooth tablecloth.

“Miss?”

Her head turned to acknowledge him.

“I don’t deserve that much respect.”

He looked her over but he couldn’t place her. He’d been waiting on every service since they’d left Constantinople the day before, he should be familiar with every passenger, but he’d never seen her before. She must have stepped on in Bucharest, then.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but we’re no longer serving food for tonight.”

“It’s alright. Would you mind if I stayed here, just for a few minutes? My mother and sisters are driving me to madness. I just need a little break.”

Ayaz hesitated. He wanted to go to bed, but he couldn’t leave a guest here alone. At the same time, he understood how claustrophobic these cars could be. Before he could make up his mind, she reached for his hand, placing her cold fingers over his.

“Sit with me for a moment. I’m sure you don’t often have the chance to sit here. Go on, sit.”

All of Ayaz’s anxiety vanished, and he sat down, head empty. It just made sense to sit and keep the young woman company. Once he was conformably settled in the plush seat, she leaned back, removing her hand from his. Ayaz blinked, wondering what had compelled him to sit. He was certain that he would get into trouble if he were caught here, seated at a table with a guest, especially a young woman.

She’d gone back to staring through the window, her brows furrowed, and Ayaz could only look at her with curiosity, wondering what troubled her. Long blond hair framed her delicate face. Her paleness made her look like she was made of ice. Even her lips were colorless, as if the pink had been drained from them. She wasn’t wearing the same fancy clothes he’d seen the other female passengers wear. Rather, she seemed dressed for a very long journey, with a white shirt and black vest that matched her narrow skirt.

The woman must have felt his gaze on her. Her amber eyes shifted to stare back. They reminded him of the wolves he’d seen in the woods in Germany, some years ago.

“I bet I’m bothering you,” she said as she reclined her head on her hands, elbows crinkling the tablecloth. “I bet all you want to do is go to bed, and here I am, keeping you shackled here.”

“I’m here to serve the passengers,” he only replied, as he didn’t want to get into trouble for agreeing with her.

“How long have you been working on this train?”

“Four years now, miss.”

“It must be so nice,” she declared with terrible longing. “Traveling all the time, seeing the world. I’ve been stuck at home for so long, it feels like all my life.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, then added, swiftly, “if you don’t mind me asking.”

“We’re not sure yet. We would like to settle in Paris, but Mother prefers London, and, well, Mother is Mother.”

She sighed. The lull in their conversation became too much, and the young woman shook her head and asked:

“How about a story? To keep us entertained?”

Ayaz wasn’t sure that he had a story to share. Sure, he had many stories from the train, some he’d heard in passing conversations between the guests and others which had happened to him, but as he tried to conjure one, his mind drew a blank. Something about the girl’s intense gaze was making him lose his composure.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any,” he gave up.

“Here is one that I know very well. I think my Mutter used to read it to me when I was a child.”

Ayaz frowned.

“You’re German?”

So far, he’d struggle to place the young woman, as she spoke a perfect English, though she had probably lived in Romania all her life, per her own complaint. The question seemed to unsettle the young woman, and her gaze landed on the darkness outside once more. The silence stretched on, and Ayaz grew uncomfortable. Had he said something wrong? Perhaps they were both tired, and he should escort the young woman back to her car.

“It was in another life,” the blonde admitted, her voice as distant as her mind. “Sometimes I get flashes, like dreams, and it’s hard to know what happened and what I made up…”

Ayaz was trying not to judge, but he’s had his fair share of guests going to Berlin for psychiatric help, and they always spoke like that, like they could see something everyone else was missing, or misunderstanding, though at the end of the day, it never made any sense. His every instinct told him that the girl was confused, had wandered out of bed in the middle of the night because she was ill, and he really should escort her back now. Before he could, however, those amber eyes pinned him in the chair.

“The story, then. It’s called Fitcher’s Bird. Once upon a time, there was a rich, powerful wizard, who lived in a golden castle. But he was lonely. The house was too big for himself, you see. So, he dressed like a poor beggar, carrying this big basket over his shoulders, and he set out across the world to find a beautiful bride.

“When he finally found this beautiful bride, he knocked on the door and asked for alms. The daughter opened the door to give him bread and he just touched her hand, and she jumped into the basket by herself. With his new bride, he rushed home. The house was beautiful, and huge, and the young bride was charmed. The wizard told her she could go anywhere she wanted, except for one room in the cellar. Of course, after exploring the whole house, curiosity got the better of her, and the young woman went to the cellar. Inside, she found a bloody mess of a room, with a basin of blood in the middle. And that’s where the wizard found her. He was quite disappointed that she’d found the room, so he slit her throat and let her bleed out in the basin. Then, he set out to find another bride.

“The same thing happened to the second girl he found. He knocked on the door, and when she opened, he just touched her, and she jumped in his basket. Again, she was impressed by the castle, and again, he told her not to go to the cellar. Again, she went to the cellar, where she found the first girl, pale as a marble statue. The wizard caught her then, and he slit her throat too. Then, he set out to find another bride.

“The same thing happened to the third girl he found. The knocking, the hand touch and she jumped in his basket. But the third bride was more clever, or perhaps more rebellious. She waited until the wizard was out, or…”

The young woman paused, eyebrows furrowed deeply as she tried to remember the rest of the story. Ayaz, who hadn’t realized how captivated he’d been since the beginning of the story, blinked, and his eyes burned with tiredness.

“Miss?”

She shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. Well, anyway, she couldn’t evade the wizard either. And suddenly, it was just the three of them, these three girls with no blood in a giant castle. How long would it last? Would they ever get out, or were they bound to obey the wizard forever? Bound to be ruled by his whims, always do what he wanted, like dolls? The decades passed, and everyone wants to fly to brighter horizons.

“So, one day, while the wizard was out getting food, the youngest sister escaped the castle. She went home, and she told them about the wizard and his castle and his room full of blood, and her two sisters still trapped inside. They formed a mob to destroy everything. The two sisters waited until the wizard was distracted by the mob to escape. Then, the people set the castle ablaze. And when we saw our home going up in flames, we regretted it all. But it was too late. Fire wasn’t enough for the people. They wanted to make sure that the wizard was truly dead, they cornered her and beheaded her…”

The young woman paused, blinked, then smoothed the uncertainty from her features.

“I think I’m confused. That’s not how the story went. Should I start over?”

Ayaz stood out of the chair so swiftly that it unsettled the neat table he’d set.

“Miss, please. It’s getting late, and you really should return to your room.”

She placed a hand on his, looking remorseful as she did, but before she spoke, something behind her caught her attention. Ayaz looked toward the door, expecting it to open, but there wasn’t a sound, aside from the usual huffing of the train. Still, the young woman removed her hand and stood abruptly.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” she declared. “Go to bed. You’re safe for now.”

She disappeared out of the car before Ayaz could make sense of what she’d said. He watched her figure retreat into the darkness beyond the door. In the blink of an eye, it was as if she’d never been there, save for her chair, which he put back in place. After another glance around the restaurant car, he headed to bed.

The workers’ cots were all stashed behind the engine, because it was the loudest and foulest smelling. Ayaz traversed the train, from car to car, nodding to every attendant as he passed them. Then, as he entered the fourth car, he heard hushed voices fighting. A sliver of light made it through one of the doors. He glanced at the attendant’s chair, but it was empty. He frowned. Perhaps his colleague needed assistance. However, as he focused on the conversation, he couldn’t hear a man’s voice in the mix, only women.

“I said not the attendant,” said a familiar voice.

“You weren’t coming back, and Mother is hungry.”

“She’s always hungry. I had someone.”

“Then you should have come back faster.”

Ayaz snuck to the ajar door. When he glanced inside, he saw the blonde arguing with another pale young woman, though this one had black hair. Behind them was a third young woman, a redhead, who sat on the edge of the cot holding a man’s hand. He was sitting on the small table under the window, and though his uniform jacket had been discarded, Ayaz recognized Jacques. His colleague was staring into nothing, his body limp as if he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open.

“It doesn’t matter,” the redhead said. “Let’s just get on with it.”

The three young women exchanged a glance, like none of them wanted to do what they needed to do next. Finally, the redhead sighed and picked up a hatbox beside her. She unlatched the top and looked down inside.

“Mother, would you like to feed?”

“Feed me,” a weak, hoarse voice replied.

The redhead reached into the hat as delicately as she could. To Ayaz’s horror, she pulled out a head. It was still somewhat coiffed, its skin as pale as the girls. When the redhead turned it to place it against Jacques’ neck, Ayaz saw the spinal column, and other bits of red that he didn’t want to identify. The head bit Jacques. Blood flowed from the wound and the head lapped it up, latching onto the skin like a leech. After a couple of gulps that trickled out of the open neck, the head said:

“Drink, my daughters. There’s plenty for everyone.”

The redhead and the black-haired girl complied, each biting an arm. The blonde was going to, when she glanced back, and her amber, predatory eyes landed on Ayaz. He stumbled back so hard that he knocked his head against the wall panel in the hallway.

“What was that?” one of the sisters asked.

“Nothing. We just hit a turn a little abruptly.”

The blonde came to the door, her eyes falling on Ayaz on the floor. She gave him a sorrowful look, then shut the door.