Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: End (02/13/06)
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TITLE: The Trip to End All Trips | Previous Challenge Entry
By Ann Stocking
02/20/06 -
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The passengers shoved their bags into the overhead compartments while murmuring words of annoyance or greeting. It was impossible to tell the difference in the noisy chaos.
“Good afternoon,” a distinguished gentleman said to the young man beside him. The young man stared at him and then turned to gaze out the window.
A stout woman flounced into her seat like a settling hen, clasping her purse in her gloved hands, while a respectable-looking man slid in smoothly next to her.
The train lurched and began to gather speed. Soon the countryside was blurring by.
“I’ve waited so long for this trip,” the stout lady said to no one in particular.
The young man glanced at her scornfully. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course, it is,” the woman asserted. “I’ve been planning this ever since I can remember. It’s the trip of a lifetime. The Trip to End All Trips.”
“I agree,” concurred the distinguished man.
“Then you mustn’t have much of a life. Pathetic.”
“Well!” the woman exclaimed, each chin quivering indignantly.
“Dear me,” soothed the respectable man, and addressing the younger man, he asked, "What do you do?"
“Whatever I want. What about you?”
“I’m a preacher. What do you mean by ‘whatever I want’?”
“Exactly that. Nothing, steal, lie, use. See? As long as I don’t get caught. Got anything to say to that, Preacher?” He looked morosely out the window.
Almost imperceptibly, the distinguished man moved over and brushed invisible lint from his suit.
“Young man, you’ll never get anywhere doing ‘whatever,’ as you call it. I’m living proof of that. I’m worth more than most small towns. Didn’t happen overnight, but, by golly, I did it. Myself.”
“I’ve always admired a self-made man,” crooned the woman and the gentleman swelled.
“Money isn’t everything. In fact, it’s evil,” said the preacher.
“Oh, come on, Preacher. Surely not?” the gentleman retorted.
“Absolutely. Along with the look this madam is giving you.”
“Well, I never!” the woman sputtered.
“And I, likewise!” agreed the gentleman.
“Now, now. You must remember I am a preacher. It’s my duty to call out sin. I could help you.”
“Can you all just shut up?” The young man spoke from the corner where he slouched.
“Yes, let’s settle down and enjoy the journey,” encouraged the gentleman.
“Perhaps, I should ask the conductor to seat me elsewhere.” said the woman, dabbing at her puffy eyes.
“No, the gentleman is right. Let’s enjoy the journey. It’ll end before we know it.”
The foursome settled into an uneasy silence. Occasionally, they glanced at each other with suspicion or disdain, with the exception of the woman and the gentlemen, who were now plotting possibilities.
The train trekked on through the night, and before long, a red glow began to emerge on the horizon. The conductor appeared through the connecting door at the front of the coach.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived.” Passengers began to stir and stretch, wiping the slumber from their eyes. “Please, follow me.”
The passengers gathered their belongings, pulling on jackets, donning caps. They stepped out into the crimson-hued dawn, confusion darkening their faces as they looked around.
“Just a moment,” said the gentleman. “What have we here?”
The rosy dawn was no dawn at all, but a fiery abyss from which billowed black clouds of noxious steam and smoke.
“You have arrived at the End of the Line.”
“The End of the Line? What are you talking about?” demanded the woman, grabbing the conductor’s sleeve.
“Surely you were aware of your destination when you made your reservation. Please, come along.”
“What destination? This is the Trip to End All Trips, is it not? The journey of a lifetime?”
“You are right. Your lifetime. Your journey. It’s ended. Or rather, it will be. Please, sirs, ma’am.”
The woman began to wail.
“Oh, my God,” said the preacher as realization became unbelievably clear.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” said the conductor.
“This is preposterous. I want my money back!” asserted the gentleman.
“It’s a joke, don’t you get it?” the young man smirked. “It’s a gimmick.”
“Please, move along!”
“But I’m a preacher. I can’t be here.”
A final, desperate chorus of fervent denial ensued as the end drew nigh, irrevocable and irreversible.
A host of celestial beings appeared, iridescent, indifferent. An unholy hush descended. There was a rush of wings and a flare of flames...
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