Stranded at the Station
Trisha McKee
Despite the crowd, there was no noise. No conversations, no murmurs, not even a whisper. Nobody wanted to be noticed. Some people’s eyes were bright, and their lips curved up as they stretched forward, waiting for the train to arrive. Others had scrunched up shoulders and creased faces. But all of them were watching and waiting.
Betty tried not to study them too hard. She did not want to see anyone she knew. She did not want that type of knowledge weighing on her. Or have anyone recognize her.
The air was different here, thicker, hazy, with a fragrant odor to it. It was as if she were looking through foggy waves, seeing everyone through a distorted lense. She wondered if this was to keep things more discreet, make it harder to casually spy.
As the minutes ticked by, Betty considered turning and leaving. She had never done anything like this before. Many people felt this was not wrong, that it did not count. This place provided a free pass to follow desires and curiosities. Because this was not entirely real, not something that would remain. But Betty felt torn. This certainly felt wrong.
But she thought about the train arriving, and no one there to greet him, and her stomach plummeted. That would not be fair. It was not an easy trip. It was long, and hard on the body. People that experienced the trip claimed their bones ached for hours afterwards, and exhaustion plagued them. It meant that short trips were not practical. You needed at least three days to fully enjoy a visit.
So Neyter was coming for a four-day visit. They had not discussed what the plans were, what was expected, but Betty knew he was not coming for four days without some expectations, some thoughts on how the visit would go, and what they would do.
And Betty was nauseous from the nerves and guilt. She knew that her live-in boyfriend Rodney had been here before. She had seen the hotel receipt. It did not bother her as much as she wanted it to. Because this was almost like some type of fantasy, a dream. If Rodney had wanted out of their relationship, he would have chosen a woman that was attainable. That could survive outside of the station.
But she still had guilt weighing her down, adding to the almost tangible air. Yet the longer she stood on the platform, the more free she felt. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She noticed the beautiful golden shade of everything around her. Trees glimmered, clouds danced. There was magic in this area, that much was obvious, and it was advertised in every sense she had.
Before the sound even registered, the train skidded to a stop in front of the platform, and people piled out. Suddenly there was noise, excited chatter and screams of delight. People embraced, men swung women around, couples held hands as they strolled toward the restaurants and hotels. It was an entire town crammed into a space meant only for a station.
And then he was in front of her. Neyter. She had seen his pictures, had video chatted him a few times, so his appearance was no surprise. He was tall and a bit overweight, long, black hair, black clothing. He was what her dimension called gothic.
They had gotten to know each other through some online artist groups that welcomed both dimensions. He was funny and encouraging, they indulged in long talks about their art, and she felt she finally had someone that not only listened, but understood.
But standing in front of him, she was paralyzed with an awkwardness, and it was evident he felt the same discomfort. He shuffled his feet, widened his eyes and then said, “Well, hello, Betty Belle.”
She gave a slight smile, enjoying his accent. He stressed different syllables, drawing out the Ss and Ls. He spoke fast and yet the words stretched. He ended each sentence in a higher note, as if it were a question, and it was unlike anything she had heard. The first time they had chatted via video, she had been mesmerized by his voice. And now it was a small bite of familiarity, pushing back the awkwardness just enough.
“How are you feeling?” Betty asked, ducking her head and taking a step back.
Neyter shrugged but then shut his eyes with a long sigh. “Exhausted. Sore.”
“So let’s get you settled in at the hotel. You can rest. And I’ll come back in a few hours to check on you. Today will probably be all about resting. I’ll bring you some food.”
He agreed, and before she even left his hotel room, he was snoring on his bed.
That evening, she stopped in the restaurant and studied the menu. There were two parts - this world and his world. The other dimension. Foods she had not heard of, combinations she never would have considered trying. She blindly chose a few items from his menu and then took the food to his room, knocking lightly.
Neyter answered after a few minutes, his long hair disheveled, his eyes framed by puffy skin. “Damn. I never woke up.”
“I figured. I got you some dinner. I wasn’t sure… I guessed.”
He peeked in the bag and grinned. “Roasted crackling shells. Oooh, and reddened pipes. Thank you!” He glanced up. “Are you going to share with me?” When she glanced down and shook her head, he made a sound. “Feeling strange?”
Betty finally met his gaze. “Yes. You should be the one feeling strange. You traveled. But… I just…”
He stepped toward her, his hand warm as it landed on her upper arm. “It’s a lot. Why don’t you go home and come back in the morning. Get your footing. I should be fully rested by then.”
She did as he suggested, grateful she was going back to an empty apartment. Rodney was away on a business trip, so she could stew in her own thoughts, her own hesitancy in going through with the next few days.
But as she listened to music and worked on her latest painting, Betty started to feel a bit better about the situation. Neyter was a friend. They were merely visiting. There was no pressure for anything else. And he would have to eventually return to his dimension.
There were those that took that chance, to live in this world after leaving their own. Some even ventured out of the train station area. There were hot spots everywhere, though, and no matter how familiar people were with these hot spots, one always managed to surprise them. Every few months, there would be a news story about an other-dimension person getting vaporized by hitting a strange hot spot. Just obliterated right there, without warning.
It was a dangerous life, to be an other-dimension person and try to live out your days in this world. Some did it, sure, but they were few and far between. Most knew better. Most simply visited, and maybe only ventured out a town or two deep.
She wondered if the situation were reversed, if she could travel to the other dimension, would she? Would she be brave enough to visit the other world? Betty liked to think she would, but she also knew she would not set foot past the safety of the train station.
By the next morning, she was rejuvenated and feeling braver. She arrived at Neyter’s hotel room smiling and prepared. And he opened the door looking just as refreshed, his eyes no longer sleepy, his smile full.
“Better?” she asked, her grin widening.
“Yes. This is more like it.” He held out his arms. “Come here, Betty Belle. Let’s have a proper hello this time.”
What had been intended as a hug turned into kissing, and before Betty could fully comprehend what was happening, they were in his bed. She was responding to his touches, to his whispers. He smelled of pungent body odor, his stomach slapping against hers with its excess rolls, but still, she craved him in that moment.
She had heard about the powers of the other-dimension people. They had a pull about them, some type of charm that they did not use forcibly, did not realize was there, but it blossomed when creating an attraction with a person they wanted to be close with.
Meeting online had felt safe. The power did not work through computer screens or phones. But they had felt a strong connection nonetheless. They bonded over art and culture, learning about the differences between their worlds, fascinated with the contrasts.
But now, in person, she felt that physical connection. He was awake today, fully focused, and his power was clear and strong. Afterwards, she was in his arms, the power not as strong, and she blinked to keep from crying. He still stunk, his skin was pasty white, and he seemed to not realize her regret as he rambled on about how good it all had felt.
“Like, this seems right, don’t you think?”
Betty tried to subtly shift away, to get some air between them. “I guess. It… I was surprised by how natural it was to… yeah.”
They went to browse the rooms the hotel provided. Rooms that were designed to bring two dimensions together. There was the music room, the movie room, and the information room. Betty and Neyter started in the information room, where they were told the main differences between their worlds, their personalities. There were differences in speech that could trip them up if they were not aware, differences in how they reacted, and differences in their general behavior.
“I didn’t realize there was a… a pull. Was that how… is that why you slept with me? Were you under the influence of it?”
Betty was not sure how to answer. Because Neyter was waiting for her to respond, his expression wilted. Finally, she shook her head. “I felt something. But I think it was just… you brought it out, but it was already there. You know? I think your pull enhances what is there.”
“I never intentionally—”
“I know, Neyter.” And she did know. He was nothing but a gentleman. Clueless at times, but he was anxious to please. Determined to make her feel comfortable.
As they sat in front of the screen that told them more about their worlds, he shook his head. “I never noticed… you don’t have music randomly playing in the air. How do you listen to it?”
“We play a record. We listen to the radio.”
He shook his head. “But… what do you do when you’re walking? And you create the music? People create music? That’s odd.”
So the next stop was the music room. She wanted to hear his music, the sounds that just played around them. And she was surprised to hear similar sounds, same styles. It was not that different. She even recognized some songs.
They spent the night together again, and that pull was there. Betty just wished he would stop talking so much afterwards. He spoke of his world and his friends, and it was hard to stay interested in his stories when she did not know the people he spoke of.
When she attempted to tell her own stories, he would lean forward and nod, but she knew he was merely waiting for the next pause, for the moment she stopped to take a breath, to resume speaking once again. He did not seem to fully listen.
His humor was juvenile, bodily function sounds and funny faces, and the next day as they journeyed to the small beach beside the station, Betty tried to show her disinterest in such matters. She avoided eye contact, sighing and shaking her head. And yet he rambled on, oblivious to her discomfort.
He finally took a break from his one-man show enough to glance around and observe, “The shore. I didn’t realize we were near the ocean.”
Betty shook her head. “We’re not near the ocean. This is just… it’s just here. At the station.” It frustrated her that he did not realize the station was its own world and what existed here did not exist outside the balmy air.
Her nerves were scraping the surface of her skin, and she tried not to glare at his ridiculous black clothes as they sat in the sun. She tried not to visibly flinch at his increasing stench. He was like a rotting piece of meat, sweating in the hottest spot under the sun.
By the morning of his departure, Betty was an irritable mess, barely muttering words and hanging on to any semblance of politeness. She caught him studying her with a perplexed look, and that simply annoyed her further. How could he be confused? Did he not hear himself talking incessantly, brushing off her attempts at conversation? Did he not realize how quickly his body perspired?
As they stood on the platform, waiting for the train that would send him back to his world, Betty found herself finally relaxing. She was about to be rid of him, free to go home and forget this awkward experience.
“I’m going to miss you,” Neyter confessed, shyly reaching for her hand. She smiled and curled her fingers around his, just grateful this was almost over.
“I hope you have a safe trip.”
He gave her another one of those looks, a mix of confusion and disappointment, but she could not reassure him. She could only count the seconds until he was on that train. They stood back from the crowd, fumbling for words and agonizing over the minutes.
The train slid into place, its clicking of the wheels and whistle of the brakes bringing the crowd alive. There were hugs and shouts of farewells as people prepared to leave, others prepared to see them off.
Betty turned to Neyter and gave him a quick hug. “Be well,” she said, feeling silly at her words. But she was not sure what to say to this man, this guy who had been her lover over the last few days, the same one she could not wait to be rid of.
She stood there and watched as he moved toward the train, holding her breath. She waited until his foot was on the first step, and she turned, ready to walk away, to go home and relax.
Before she could move, ear-splitting sirens broke through the suddenly suffocating air. A robotic voice barely audible over the alarms boomed over the loudspeakers, “The portal is closing in one minute. One minute the portal is closing.”
Suddenly, the crowd closed in around her, screaming and shoving. She found herself being pushed toward the train, and she was unable to escape. As she was moved closer to the train, she tried to scream, tried to fight through the crowd, buried beneath the yelling and pushing. She was going to get forced onto the train, and it would be all over. People from this world could not survive the trip to that one.
Just as she was being shoved onto the train, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her hard. She tripped right into Neyter’s arms, sobbing as he caught her. He gathered her close to him and soothed, “It’s okay. Hey, you’re okay.”
He was still holding her as the train left, and finally, she lifted her head and stared at him, “What the hell just happened?”
Neyter glanced wistfully after the train. “That was the signal that the portal was closing. It happens every now and then. What it means is I’m stuck here until it opens back up. Which could be in a week… or months.”
Her mouth fell open, and gently, she pushed away from him so she could meet his gaze. “So you just…”
“They were pushing you—that crowd. I had to get you out.”
“But you’re stuck here now.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. But I couldn’t let you get on that train. I mean, you know it… it’s impossible to—”
“I know.” She shivered, and Neyter put an arm around her. “Thank you.”
“I wasn’t going to let that happen, Betty. I’m a little fond of you.” He sighed and glanced around. “I better go extend the hotel stay before all the rooms are filled. A lot of people didn’t get on.”
She went with him to ensure his room was still available, and then they stood awkwardly, not sure what to say. Finally, Neyter sighed. “Look, I know Rodney comes home today, so you can go. I’ll be fine. I mean, I can go socialize with the rest that are stuck here.”
Betty nodded. “The thing is… I do have to go. But I’ll be back tomorrow for a bit. I have work, and then Rodney is taking me out—”
“It’s okay. Come when you can. I’ll be here.”
Betty returned home, relief flooding through her when Rodney was there waiting. She wanted her life back. She wanted normalcy back. There was no room in her world for other worlds, for learning differences, for being attracted to a man that at the same time irritated and even repulsed her. She was not deep enough to maneuver such complications.
The next day, she found time between her job and dinner with Rodney to stop in and visit with Neyter. As he got close and whispered how much he missed her, Betty felt that pull. But she stopped herself, smiling slightly and mumbling how she hoped he was adjusting. He nodded and stepped back.
She visited when she could for the next week, always maintaining a distance. And one day, she found him hopping from one foot to another, his face beaming. “Guess what I discovered I can do?”
“What’s that?” She had to smile herself, his energy infectious.
He broke out in song, his voice loud and clear, the notes perfect. Her smile widened. He was good, and he seemed so pleased with himself. When he finished, she laughed. “That’s wonderful. Did you not know you could sing so well?”
Neyter shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. We, my world, we can’t sing there. We don’t have singing voices. I don’t mean that we sing bad. We just don’t sing. That’s why it confused me that you guys make your own music. But here, I have that singing ability. And I also discovered that the music we hear, that music comes from this world. It somehow filters into our air, it plays.”
“Oh!” She thought about it for a few moments. “That makes sense I guess.”
“I don’t think I want to leave.”
Those words caused her to grow still, panic gripping her stomach and chilling her blood. Not leave? What did that mean for her? Did he expect—
“I don’t expect you to stick around. I know you have a life beyond this. I get that. I mean, I’m really fond of you. I could honestly fall for you. But I somehow get the feeling that you aren’t as on board with that.”
Betty stopped herself from reassuring him. Because the truth was, she did have Rodney. She had a life that was full of her world. There was no room for anything from Neyter’s one, including Neyter. Instead, she rose up on her toes and gave him a soft, quick kiss, forcing a smile.
He nodded, not appearing surprised. “I want to stay here no matter what happens between us. So no pressure on your end. I heard that people from my world venture out here and lead pretty normal lives.”
This time, she shook her head. “Oh no! It’s dangerous.”
“I know. I know the dangers, have heard about the hot spots. But what’s life without a little risk?”
She shuddered at that. She did not want any more risks. This meeting was enough. Almost getting forced onto that train was enough. The mere thought of living a life outside the norm shocked her and horrified her.
It was the last time Betty visited Neyter. He had his plans, his dreams, and she did not want him to mistake her as a part of that.
But as time went on, Betty found she could not get him out of her mind. His touch, his voice, that accent! She remembered the conversations about art and creating. And while he spoke about himself a lot, she realized it was the excitement of sharing himself with her, of sharing the past and his ideas and the similarities they shared.
And she remembered how he risked his own trip home to save her. He got stranded here just to ensure her safety, and she remembered how he had immediately held her and soothed in his gentle voice, “You’re okay.” Sometimes that echoed in her dreams, and she woke up reaching for him, only to find Rodney, who was becoming more and more distant.
Finally, Rodney took her out to dinner and, while secluded in what would have been considered a dark, romantic corner of the restaurant, he confessed, “I’ve met someone.”
She waited for the rage to boil up inside of her, but instead Betty realized she had no right to be mad. No matter how people sugarcoated those meetings in the station with talk of the other world and it not being real, she knew it had been. The feelings, the attraction—it was all authentic. And she had experienced it.
So she let Rodney go with a smile and an amicable split of belongings. And she set off to find Neyter at the station. It had been a few months, and the train was up and running, the portal back open. And Neyter was gone. His room was now occupied by a graying man, his smile wide as he opened the door, a woman in the background.
She assumed Neyter had left, gone back to the world he knew.
But the next month she was passing by a television, and a familiar sound stopped her in her tracks. Looking in the store window, she saw Neyter on the television, a guitar in his hands, a microphone near his mouth. The crowd was going wild. And she smiled.
He had left the station. Just the other way.
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