The 4:15 Train

Cynthia Holden-Davis

 

The clock chimes with the passing of another hour. It is four and Parker is late, as is custom. Heaven knows he’s not late on purpose, never is, but it is unlikely—rather, impossible—that he will ever be on time to catch the four-fifteen train back to Fair Haven, and therefore will never be home early enough to participate in the evening activities. Unfortunately, the next train doesn’t leave until five-thirty.

It is always this way, has been since the day of his twenty-first birthday when he began work in the city. He works as an accountant for a small company at the far end of the city and much too far from the train station, especially since he doesn’t clock out until four on the dot. He used to think he could make it if he ran fast enough or took the right shortcuts, but even if he got a horse or took the sewers and back alleys to avoid congestion—both of which he’s tried—he could never be on time. Now, Parker begrudgingly accepts his inability to cross from West End to East Wing Station in fifteen minutes. Such is life.

Life. Parker hasn’t thought much about life, life in general that is, until just recently, after resigning himself to the fact that he was moving and living too quickly. He was missing everything—the evening activities in Fair Haven and, as a result of rushing to the train, the city life as well. He’s now realized that, to enjoy the fullness of life, he must slow down. And so he has. Where he used to run, now he walks. Where he used to see nothing but the road ahead, now his eyes are full with the sights around him. Where he used to rant and snarl, now he smiles and whistles. He doesn’t yet know where the best draft beer can be found or where the library is or other such things, but they are on his list to discover while making his way to the five-thirty train. It’s slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

Today is the day Parker decides to visit West End Square, which is where he’s heard the best café is located. He doesn’t remember who told him so and he’s not sure whether the source is reliable or not, but he has the time to find out while he waits for five-thirty to come. He’s not particularly fond of coffee, but perhaps this café will change his mind or maybe he’ll enjoy a cup of green tea. He supposes that in ten minutes he’ll find out.

Parker never does find out, however, since he never makes it through the doors of the café. Instead, he finds himself entranced by the beauty of West End Square…though, not the same beauty others see. It’s not the multi-colored venetian-style buildings or the rows of finely trimmed redbud trees that make him pause, or even the marble mermaid perched atop the center fountain. No, it is not the mermaid, but the girl sitting on the fountain wall who is caught in Parker’s sights; a simple girl with a journal on her lap and a pen tucked awkwardly between her slender fingers. Though she is quite petite, her figure is lost in the oversized black sweater and skirt she wears. Nevertheless, she is lovely. Lovely and young—young than he—with a heart-shaped face spattered with freckles and framed by long waves of ebony hair. Her sharp hazel eyes flicker over her journal as she scrawls in it and her teeth catch her lower lip.

As Parker watches, the girl hunches further over her writing, her face now inches from the journal. He wonders why she is writing with such intensity. What could she be writing in her large leather journal? He suddenly has a deep desire to walk up to her and read over her shoulder, to peek into her certainly troubled mind. Parker supposes that only the troubled would write so earnestly and dress for winter in summertime, but he’s only guessing.

For a fleeting moment, Parker thinks to introduce himself to the lovely girl, but decides otherwise when she abruptly snaps her journal shut and rises to her feet, scampering away. Parker’s eyebrow rises as he watched her go. How strange.

“Excuse me!”

Parker spins on his heel as an elderly woman carrying a great pot of water shuffles by. He blinks away his confusion as he catches the woman mutter something about manners.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he mumbles.

When he looks back up to see if he can catch one last glimpse of the writing girl, she has vanished. His chest aches with disappointment and he lets out a soft breath. All for the best, he figures, since she really did seem like the troubled sort. Troubled or not, he wishes he could have found out what she was writing…and he wouldn’t mind meeting a girl, since the chances of him meeting one if Fair Haven are so low. He lets out another sigh and looks down at his pocket watch. It’s four-fifteen and he’s lost interest in the café and exploration in general.

 

The following day, Parker is again in West End Square, this time successful in his search of the city’s best café. He orders a tall caramel macchiato, but discovers that he is still unimpressed and returns to the clerk to order green tea instead. Taking his steaming mug, Parker makes himself comfortable at a table near the large window facing the city square. He sips carefully and, as the mellow drink caresses his tongue, feels the stress of the day release and he sinks further into his cushioned chair. Work was especially difficult today with the unexpected death of his fellow coworker. He doesn’t know all the details, but he heard that Jonathan is the latest in a line of people who’ve died of poisoning. Parker sighs and closes his eyes, a little grateful that Jonathan has no family or friends to mourn him.

When he opens his eyes and casually glances out the window, he sees her—the lovely girl from yesterday—and his throat instantly dries and his muscles tense. He doesn’t have the nerves to talk to her today. He swallows thickly, trying to get comfortable once again. She’s writing in her journal just as she did the day before, this time with quick scribbling motions and frantic jerks as if she’s crossing something out. Parker wonders what it could mean, but is too weary to even think of finding out. He watches the lovely girl until she leaves, just as hurriedly as she did the day before.

Four days in a row Parker decides to visit West End Square and, each day at four-fifteen, he sees the lovely girl writing in her journal. He watches her with growing interest each day—desiring to know her thoughts and the reasons behind her desperate journaling. He dreams about her now as well. She is the mysterious beauty beyond reach, always evading him in his evanescent dreams. He must speak with her. He has to know her name. However, it isn’t until the fifth day that he finally approaches the lovely girl.

Parker steps hesitantly at first. It has been so long since he last approached a girl with such intentions—that is, intentions of falling in love. That thought, of being in love, is what causes him to walk with more confidence and purpose. He’s never really felt this way before. Is he already in love? He doesn’t know how that could be possible since the girl is still a stranger, but there is no denying his attraction and mystification.

“Good afternoon,” Parker is suddenly saying before he’s ready.

The lovely girl looks up quickly, as if startled. “Afternoon,” she says curiously.

Parker smiles and then, feeling awkward, clears his throat and sobers. “I, uh, noticed you sitting her alone and…well, I just thought that I’d, uh, join you—if you liked, that is.”

The girl glances around for a moment before returning her gaze to him and offering a shy smile. “I don’t mind.”

Parker grins. “Oh, good!”

The girl scoots over just a bit and Parker sits and extends his hand to her.

“My name is Parker, by the way. Parker McKenna.”

She places her dainty hand in his and quietly says, “Madelyn Brendy.”

Parker smiles at the softness of her hand. “Nice to meet you, Madelyn Brendy.”

She merely nods and her eyes shift away.

Parker meets Madelyn at the fountain the same time the following day, four-fifteen. They don’t say much past the afternoon pleasantries, but Parker doesn’t mind and is content to simply be in her company as she writes. He’s in no hurry. He has learned that a life well lived is a life enjoying the moment, not rushing to the future. So Parker decides he will take his time. He will take his time getting to know Madelyn, since it’s apparent she won’t be spilling her spilling her life story any time soon and that’s quite alright. Right now, he is content and, if he were to die tomorrow, he would die happy.

Parker uses the time he has to study Madelyn. He doesn’t know much about her, but what he does already know is that she is an impatient girl.

“Madelyn?” Parker asks on their third afternoon together.

“Hmm?” she asks without looking at him.

“Are you a student? Is that why you’re always writing in your journal?”

“No.”

Parker waits for her to explain, but she never does. He smiles a little. “I see. Did you attend college?”

She glances at him from the corner of her eyes. “Yes.”

“What did you study?”

Madelyn sighs. “Biology and criminal justice.”

“That’s interesting,” Parker replies. “I never was good at biology, but I excelled in mathematics. I’m actually an accountant. I work for Richard Porter down at Porter & Sons just a few blocks—”

“Parker,” Madelyn says, interrupting him. “Sorry, but I have to go.”

Parker looks at her blankly for a moment. Madelyn will always be the first to leave, that also he has figured out.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Parker smiles when Madelyn’s cheeks tint with a pink blush and she bashfully looks away.

“Goodbye,” she whispers.

On further observation, Parker has come to realize that Madelyn is very much the opposite of him. She is exactly like he used to be before he discovered the benefits of slowing down. Madelyn is always in a rush. She writes frantically and speaks with as few words as necessary and always rushes away as if late or running from something. He is intrigued by her and finds his thoughts more and more consumed by her. Madelyn, his lovely writing girl. How he longs to know what she writes about! He wonders if she has ever written about him in her journal. Maybe one day she will show him, but he’s not impatient. He has all the time in the world to find out. He only hopes that the day she decides to show him, the words written in her journal will be more than to-do lists. He hopes the words will reveal her soul to him—that they will change his life.

The following day when Parker arrives at the fountain, he’s surprised to see that only Madelyn’s journal is there. He looks around briefly and then at his pocket watch to see that it’s only four-ten. Realizing that he’s a few minutes early, he decides to sit and wait for her to return. He doesn’t wait long before he catches Madelyn exiting the café, a drink in each of her gloved hands. Parker finds that odd until it dawns on him that maybe, just maybe, Madelyn thought to buy him a drink. When Madelyn lifts her head to see him watching her, her cheeks turn bright red and she bites her lip. Parker smiles and stands as she shuffles over to him.

“Hi,” he says.

Her eyes shift and she mutters a soft hello. “I bought you a drink,” she says as she hands him a warm cup.

Parker takes a hesitant sip, hoping it’s not coffee. When the familiar taste of green tea fills his mouth, warmth spreads through his body and he thinks that he really is in love. He looks at Madelyn wanting so badly to kiss her, but knows he must wait for the right time, whenever that might come.

“How did you know to get me green tea?”

She smiles and his stomach does a somersault. “You smell like green tea,” she says as if it’s obvious.

“Do I?”

She giggles.

“Do you know how lovely you are?” Parker asks breathlessly.

Her eyes glisten as she looks at him. “I have a confession,” she says. “I noticed you…and when you watched me, my heart beat faster. I was so afraid and so thrilled when you spoke to me the other day.”

“Is that so?” Parker smirks.

“It is,” she drawls. “Made everything so much easier.”

He takes a step closer to her. “Easier?”

“Don’t get too close, I don’t have the time today. As it is, I’m already late.”

“Do you have to leave?”

Madelyn rises on her toes and kisses his cheek. “Goodbye, Parker McKenna.”

Baffled, Parker watches as Madelyn once again rushes away. Feeling very light, he sits and puts the cup of tea back to his lips. He thinks that he’ll ask Madelyn to dinner when he sees her tomorrow, after all, she is an impatient girl and might get upset if he doesn’t. He could wait forever for her, but she seems unwilling to do the same. Better adjust to her speed, he supposes.

For a moment, all is right in the world…and then, he sees her journal, forgotten on the fountain wall. He thinks about running to catch up to Madelyn so he can return it, but figures a small peek won’t do any harm. He has been longing to know her better and this would give him the perfect opportunity to take a look into her troubled mind. He cracks open the cover and begins flipping through the pages. At first, he is confused. The pages are filled with names, lists and lists of names accompanied by a time, all of which are crossed off. Unease starts to restrict his lungs, but his eyes continue to take in the names. When he reaches the last page she wrote on, he spots a few names that he recognizes, one of which is his old coworker’s, Jonathan Parsons, and the time 7:34…the exact time he was found dead. Suddenly, Parker is sick to his stomach. This journal—his lovely girl’s journal—is a hit list. His heart races and his hands shake, but he is unable to close the journal. Fear draws his eyes to the last name written in the journal.

Parker McKenna. 4:15.