Bite Size Babble

Whistle Count

My face was smashed against the rough wooden ties of the National Memorial Train Museum's Track A. I hated this part of the job, absolutely hated it. We did Real-Ality Shows, or r-shows for short, at the museum everyday, to keep the younger generation interested in a dying form of transport. I was responsible for the Bandit Show, but of course I didn't get to play the fortunate bandits. No, I got to play the helpless maiden tied to the train tracks, who waited for the protagonist while struggling with tight ropes and a stupid, poofy, pink dress. Our hero, Filbert Noren, got such an ego after these shows. Usually, his job is to check-in whoever comes into the building, and I mean everyone. He feels a little useless, so he takes his acting job very seriously. Therefore, Noren never listens when I tell him that I'm in no danger whatsoever. The A-Track's train is illusionary, a fake engine from the 1930s, since we couldn't find a real one. Any real trains that we own are all much farther away from the main building. I've even been hit by the A-Train a couple of times when Noren wasn't doing his part well. When that happens, I have to act like I'm really getting hit. The absence of blood generally ruins the act, though. Anyway, that's beside the point. The point is that despite all the evidence, Noren refuses to believe he isn't really saving me. Its why I hated doing shows as part of my job, and every time I was in the show all I did was count down the time between whistles until I was free.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pre-recorded audio track emitting the noise of the A-Train roaring down the 2 miles of Track A. My grimace forced a splinter into my cheek, and I had to stop myself from sighing. That wouldn't do, not in the middle of the climax. A sigh would ruin Noren's dramatic monologue. I held my sigh in as Noren finished. Now would come the fight with the bandits. I couldn't ever see it because of the way my head was tied down, but I'd always assumed it was decent. There usually were some gasps and cries from whatever crowd we got, and today was no different. Their cries didn't cover the sound of the A-Train, though, and it's tinny whistle blasted four times in a row. Thus marked the time for another of my infrequent lines.

"Eeeeee! Please, kind sir," I said, trying very hard not to grit my teeth, "The train is coming closer!"

"Fair maiden," crowed Noren proudly, "Wait but a moment, and these bandits will be gone! Then I will free you, and we can be together!" The sound of gunshots interrupted Noren's confident declaration as he presumably blasted the bad guys away with his toy gun. I counted the blasts impatiently. There were five more shots to go before I would be freed. The A-Train sounded closer now. I could smell the smoke from it's chimney, which meant the repair crew must have come by to fix the olfactorator on the Reality Generator. It struck me as funny because I hadn't seen the bill, and as the general coordinator, I saw all the bills that weren't declared 'higher business' by the boss. A visit from a repair crew shouldn't have been all that important. Maybe an employee had been fiddling with the r-generator instead, sick of the way it had been broken for months.

While I thought about it, Noren and the bandits exchanged shots. That meant only three more to go. They were a little late, though. By now, there should only be two shots left.

The train whistled again, and Nolan and a bandit exchanged lines. There was one left, as result of Nolan's "good aim".  As they talked, the ground under the train tracks began to rumble. The rumbler was the only good part of the show. I thought the train was a badly done illusion myself, but the rumbler was pretty cool. Thanks to that rumbler, I felt a couple of the smaller stones from around the tracks jump and bump into my dress. I mentally tried to urge Nolan and the bandits to hurry, hoping that I wouldn't get run over today. I was NOT in the mood.

Thankfully, the bandit finally fired another bullet, and the crowd gasped as usual. To their eyes, Nolan had been hit by the bullet and was now spouting blood all over the stage. I knew better. The crowd was easily impressed by the fake blood because they didn't know how hard it was to clean corn syrup from the floor boards. Falsified injuries aside, Nolan needed to hurry. The train would be here any minute.

To my surprise, the crowd began to shout as Nolan fired the last two bullets. I guess he finally got his acting in order. The shouts sounded frantic, though...as if they'd seen the train at the edge of their vision. Great. I knew I was getting run over today. 

Nolan landed beside me in a hurried heap.

"Did you change the illusion generator?" he whispered quickly as he worried the knots I was tied in.

"No..." I said, frowning. That wouldn't make sense. It projected the train, and we'd had the same train for the past four years. Call it tradition, if you will.

"Oh no," he continued, "I think...I think something's wrong." I looked towards his face as best as I could, and saw that he looked rather unsettled. What was happening? 

"Nolan, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to keep calm.

"The train looks different...it looks like D-Train." he said, his motions becoming more and more panicked as he worked. What was he thinking?

"Nolan, the image probably glitched when the repair people fixed the olfactorator." I told him soothingly. It seemed that repair people often did more harm than good nowadays.

Still, Nolan's eyes were starting to look wild.

"No repair people have been here...I would have known." he told me, sounding frightened for the first time. 

"Nolan, please calm down. An employee might have--" I started. A tremendous whistle blast cut me off mid-sentence. Now that I really listened to it, the noise didn't seem to be coming from the speakers. A rumble went through the floor, nearly knocking Nolan over. When did our rumblers get so good?

Nolan's fingers were flying now, getting caught in knots that he usually had little to no trouble undoing. His whole frame was shaking, and I could smell his fear just as surely as I could smell the sickening smell of burning coal. In fact, I could almost see the train on the edge of my own vision. Nolan was right, something was wrong with the train. Instead of the A-Train's trademark red, this train was a deep navy blue, like D-Train. Was it even possible...?

Nolan caught my eye briefly, and I saw his deepest emotions. I saw his bluster, his self-conciousness, and his pride. Mostly, I saw a raw terror, a terror centered on the train that COULD NOT be real, the train that should not be real. I saw all of these in a flash in the second before he turned and ran away. Indignantly, I wondered where he went. Then decided I didn't care about a good-for-nothing who fled from tied-up maidens because they were afraid of illusions. Since there was no sounds of panic in the crowd, I guessed he wasn't there. Nolan's scrambled appearance would alert the crowd that something odd was happening. They would stop believing that this was part of the r-show. I hoped they were correct in their beliefs, and that Nolan was wrong in his.

I lay on the tracks, then suddenly realized that this was beyond an r-show. This was a Reality Show, with no scripted words or actions, and I had the stage to myself. I realized there was nothing left to do but struggle hopelessly against my bonds--I had always argued that they were too tight, and it seems I was finally going to be justified--and count down the time before I was hit. All that was left to do was wonder whether I would die today, or whether Nolan was going to be in a lot of trouble after I survived.

I counted down the time between whistles until I would know.