TUBE

13:13

You silly thing rang in Olesya's head. Papa called her that, when they were playing TUBE. Could it really be him in there?

He sometimes took Olesya with him on trips when she was little. They had a grand time. They played games and had cookies with tea and watched the scenery roll by. Papa would sit her on his lap, point out the houses and the trees, give her candy and kiss her, calling her "my little ballerina."

Was he really here, on the train? Right now?

But he was dead. Long dead.

Olesya tiptoed to the attendant's compartment to listen. Silence.

She tried the door. It was locked.

Olesya shook her head. There was no Papa. No Little Olesya.

No TUBE.

She looked at TUBE in her hand. The solution was simple.

First she tried a few windows, but they were sealed for winter. Of course. She walked to the vestibule and tried the exit doors. Locked. Where else? The gangway. She stepped on the shifting, grinding plates, the wheels' rattle deafening, the cold freezing. She crouched on all fours and shoved TUBE through the gap between the plates and the bellows. Then she let go.

Done.

She got up, brushed her knees, and went back to the car.

On the floor of the aisle sat TUBE.

The moment she saw it, its headlamp lit up and it whistled and rolled at her.

Olesya broke into a sweat.

It bumped her feet until she picked it up and switched it off. Her hands were shaking.

She went back to the gangway, put her face to the gap, and let go, watching TUBE fall onto the frozen railway and disappear.

She returned to the car.

TUBE sat on the floor.

Olesya stifled a scream.

She grabbed it and flushed it down the toilet.

Same result.

She closed it in storage bins, rolled it in blankets, pushed it inside the radiator grille. No use. Desperate, she smashed it in the compartment door, and when that didn't work, she chased it with an ax she found in the vestibule closet. But TUBE was always one step ahead of her.

The train pulled into a station and slowed to a stop. The loudspeaker announced their arrival at Oryol station. There were shouts on the platform, the clatter of luggage carts, the attendants' calls.

Olesya sat on the aisle floor, drenched in sweat. TUBE sat in her lap.

"You think you won?" she said. "You didn't. I'll get rid of you. You'll see."

She scooped it up, grabbed her things, and went to the next car. No one was getting on or off here. Olesya walked through a few more cars and suddenly stopped. An imposing woman swaddled in a fur coat huffed along the aisle, dragging a boy of about seven behind her. Olesya set TUBE on the floor and stepped aside, letting them pass.

She saw the boy spot the shiny red engine. He let go of his mother's hand and snatched it.

"Look, Mama. Look what I found!" He held it up.

She barked without looking, "Get moving, Nikita, or I'll whip your ass. Hear me?"

Nikita's eyes widened. He put TUBE in his pocket and hurried after her.

Olesya walked toward her car, smiling. She did it. TUBE was gone.

On her way back, she managed to avoid meeting any of the dancers, but the moment she closed her compartment door, someone knocked.

"Yes?"

Yuri stood at the door, his golden teeth shining. "Back already, eh? Feeling better?"

Olesya laughed. "No. Yes. I don't know. I guess."

"Well, seems you've forgotten something." He smiled and stretched out his hand.

On his palm sat TUBE.

End of TUBE sample.

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