Trans-Universal

I tell this story to my children often enough that I fear they will memorize it and think it real. I thought it was real too when I was younger. Now I know better.

Listen closely.

I was of an age where girls started leaving their homes. 10 or 11 years old. I was considered an adult in some cultures. My father was starting to file paperwork for my departure. No one knew where the girls went. They got on a train and rode off into the distance. The Trans-Universal train was old. It had been stationed in town center for over 100 years. This year was my turn to board it.

I had been packed for nearly two weeks. I hadn’t known what I should pack for, so I brought everything. My father and older brother had stopped talking to me, and our goodbyes were very brief. I bowed my head and left the house. 

I arrived at the train station early: I had a day before it left. Camping out on a bench, I dozed off.  

The sun awoke me first. I sat up to see an old woman sitting on the bench across from me. I had never seen an old woman before. Even my mother had left when I was young. I bowed my head in greeting. She put a finger to her lips and beckoned I join her on her bench. I stood up and went to her. 

She grabbed my hand and pulled me down next to her; very informal compared to how the old men in my life treated me. Her hand was shaking as she cupped it around her mouth and whispered to me “darling, before you get on that train, I have a story to tell you.”

My eyes met hers. A brilliant blue, unlike my brown. I nodded. She pulled from the skirts of her dress a sketchbook. Then, she took out a blue pen.  And drew.

 And her pictures enveloped me.

A long time ago, women ruled the world. We were presidents, kings, astronauts. We grew too powerful. One president took advantage of her role. She declared war. Much of the world was destroyed before she was assassinated. Men decided that women could not be trusted. Using the knowledge that women gained, they built a train that spanned the universe. It ended on a little planet called Heart. Women have been told that they must get on the train and leave to become better people.

They don’t come back because they can’t.

The planet is full of creatures that would tear your heart out to feel humanity. Only one woman has lived to survive the tale.

The pictures around me faded. The one woman alive to tell the tale was sitting in front of me. 

The train arrived silently. I looked around as other girls got on the train, carrying suitcases of clothes. I turned back to the old woman. 
“What did you pack, ma’am? For the train, I mean”

Shaking, she turned to me. “I packed only two things, darling. My sketchbook and my courage. That is how I came back. Be brave. That is all the monsters fear. Brave women. Darling, do you know what these monsters are?” I shook my head. “Dear, they aren’t monsters. They are but men who grew too powerful for this world.”

She handed me a sketchbook , and told me not to open it until I got onto the train. 
 

The whistle blew.

I started to bow to her, but thought better of it. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. 

“I'll be back.” I said.

“I know, my child. I know.”