Home sweet home, as they say. Not that it truly felt that way any longer, since I’d been living elsewhere for years, and my siblings had all scattered to the four winds as well. However, the wooden one-story house was still a familiar sight as I approached, music playing through my headphones and my hands firmly tucked into my jacket pockets. I’d forgotten my gloves on the bus, but it’d driven off before I could correct my mistake.
I took the headphones off my ears, hanging them around my neck, and went inside. My mother still clung to her old habit of keeping the door unlocked while at home. Having gotten used to living in a large city, it felt like such an alien concept now. I could only shake my head at the thought. I’d always thought of myself as almost a country girl at heart, but it seemed that my heart had been quite malleable after all. However, I did miss the simplicity of living here in my younger days. It had been a good place to grow up. Plenty of freedom, not many responsibilities. What I wouldn’t give for that now.
I’d only taken off my shoes when a familiar voice called out.
“Hey, honey. So good to see you. Come here!” Her face was beaming, and contrary to her words, it was she who walked up to me and gave me a big hug.
“Yeah, yeah. Good to see you too, Mom,” I said, for some reason slightly embarrassed while returning the hug. It had been a while since I’d last visited, so I figured it wasn’t surprising she’d react like that.
“Good timing, by the way.” She pulled back from the hug and smiled. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but today’s the last time a train will stop at our little station.”
“Really?” I’d indeed not heard. I wasn’t exactly keeping up with my hometown’s current events. But it wasn’t surprising. If anything, it was surprising that it had been kept in use for this long. Everything had become more and more about cost savings and serving the needs of the big cities. Who cared about some backwater village by comparison? Though I was hardly one to talk – after all, I’d left for somewhere bigger too. “That’s a bit sad.”
“You always liked going there to watch the trains as a kid,” my mother reminisced while heading down the hallway, toward the kitchen, and I followed.
“Yeah. I remember.” I’d spend hours every week just looking at trains come and go. I’d been quite into them back then. Not that I disliked them even now, but certainly my trainspotting activities had been nearly non-existent since before I’d first moved away for my studies, over four years ago now.
“Well, I guess you’ve seen all sorts of trains since then. I don’t know if you’re still into them, but why not go take a look, for old time’s sake?”
“I suppose. It’s not like I have other plans yet. What time does it arrive?” Mom looked at her wristwatch, squinting a little. Her eyesight wasn’t what it used to be, and she wasn’t wearing her glasses.
“Oh… looks it’s in just 15 minutes, if it’s on time.”
“Are you coming too?”
“Oh, no. I’ll be getting lunch ready.” That made sense, given she was wearing her favorite kitchen apron. “Your father’s coming home early today too.”
“I see. Well, I might as well head out already, since I’m still all bundled up.” That being the case, I was starting to feel a bit toasty in the warmth of indoors.
“Okay. Lunch is in half an hour, so don’t stay too long. I’m making meatballs, your favorite.” I couldn’t help smiling at that. It had been my favorite upon a time, but like many things that had changed. I didn’t feel the need to correct her, though. After all, even if they weren’t my number one favorite any longer, I still liked them very much.
“Yeah, yeah. It won’t take long.”
I went back down the hallway, put on my shoes and then my headphones before heading out. The train station was only a stone’s throw away. Well, not quite, but walking there still didn’t take even five minutes despite my leisurely pace.
It was mostly as I remembered. A small rectangular wooden building with a hipped roof covered with clay tiles. It even had a chimney, though I suspected it hadn’t seen smoke for quite some time. What had changed was that it looked quite worn down. The paint on the wooden walls was chipping severely, and even some of the roof tiles were missing.
There were a few other people around. I wondered if they were passengers, or just there to see off the last train like I was. None of them looked familiar. I found myself thinking that even in a place as small as this, things as well as people were bound to change with time, and I’d not been a particularly active community member to begin with. I did hang around with some other kids occasionally, but on the adult side of things I only knew relatively few people. It had been fine by me that way. I’d always preferred the worlds and people of stories.
As I walked to the front side of the station and looked around, I noticed a girl about ten meters away was looking at me. Or perhaps more accurately, a young woman. Surprised, I instinctively looked away. Had I just imagined it? After a moment of pretending to look elsewhere, I stole a glance. She was still looking at me. Not only that, but she did a little wave with her hand and smiled. Did she know me? Did I know her?
I couldn’t say she looked familiar, though she looked to be about my age and like she might’ve had Indian ancestry… or something like that. I never was much good at recognizing and telling apart different ethnicities. She was wearing jeans and a puffy winter jacket, but no hat or gloves, which seemed adventurous given the sub-zero weather – I knew that well, given my lack of gloves since in my absent-mindedness I didn’t think to loan a pair from Mom. I timidly waved back, feeling awkward. It felt kind of like one of those moments when you come across someone and they say or do a greeting and you instinctively return it, only to realize that it was meant for someone else. But aside from not having seen anyone behind me just moments ago – the other two present were currently leaning against the front wall of the station, apparently having a conversation of their own – her renewed smile seemed to indicate that it really had been meant for me, for whatever reason.
I turned my attention back toward the train track. Being a tiny station, there was only a single main track, with a short additional segment for parking train cars. There were none present currently; there rarely ever had been, at least for as long as I could remember. I could almost feel like I was a kid again, excitedly prancing around the station while waiting for trains to arrive. I’d been on a first-name basis with the station personnel, who had all been aware and supportive of my interest – well, all four of them, with two in each of the two shifts during the day. I imagine that at most stations these days you’d get shooed off for it being too risky as well as due to being a nuisance. The other kids didn’t understand my fascination, but I didn’t much care what they thought. Or at least so I kept telling myself.
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