The Railroad Crossing

The shrill cry of the train whistle pierced the air, cutting through all the thoughts swirling in Archie Mayfield’s mind. She shuddered, pulling her small woolen coat tighter around her as the bitter cold nipped at her exposed face.

“Mum, why do we have to go today?” She whined, tugging on her mother’s coat. Traveling on a day like this was a form of cruelty that she could not understand.

Mrs. Mayfield, a tall, pale woman with warm brown hair bound up in a tight knot beneath her hat, stood next to her waiting. They were in line for the only public phone at the train station, which a man was currently occupying.

“Archie hush,” her mother whispered, putting a finger to her cracked lips, her eyes trained on the man as he shouted at whoever it was on the other line, “I’ve told you, it is today or not at all.”

“But I still don’t understand!” Archie protested in a loud, petulant voice, the kind young children often adopt when they feel as if they are experiencing a great injustice.

Her mother whipped towards her, kneeling to be at eye level, “Archie, please, don’t make this harder on me. I’ve told you what I can. Please hold on while I call the new landlord. We’re going to get there late, and I don’t want to lose the place.”

She stood sharply before Archie could respond. Anger welled up inside of her. In truth, her mother had told her very little over the past several months. Only a few times did she come into her room to tell her to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

She also told her not to tell her father, saying to pretend it was a game. But the game had long since lost its appeal in little Archie’s mind. Games were supposed to be fun, the kind where you hide and can surprise people, but this, this was painful. They had left before dawn, only to stand in the freezing cold for hours. Not to mention the rough wake-up call and the rush to pack what few things she could carry. Archie could hardly do it fast enough, wanting to take everything, but her mother had said she would get new things later.

Archie didn’t want new things, though. She wanted her things. Her toys, her room, her friends, and her father. She wanted to see him again, in case it was one of the mornings he was there.

She tugged again on her mother’s coat.

“I want to go home!” She demanded, loud enough that people glanced in her direction.

“Archie, stop harassing me right now,” her mother ground out, the frustration palpable in her voice, “Go sit on a bench if you're tired, but do stop!”

She jerked her coat from Archie’s hands and turned again. Fuming, Archie stomped off, her small feet transmitting all of her anger into the station platform.

How could her mother do this to her? Take her from home. Not even letting her say goodbye to Dad, and then dragging her to this freezing station to do what? Wait in the bitter cold for a train to take them to a place where she has nothing and no one? Tears blistered in her eyes, threatening to spill.

Instead of going to a bench, she went to stand by the edge of the platform. The tracks were empty before her.

Her lip trembled as she looked around. A few people were waiting for the next train as well. Some were sitting, while others stood. Near the end of the platform, a man was waiting with his dog, a small, scruffy thing, animatedly sniffing the flowers of a small memorial embedded in the wall. Closer by, an old man was working a hot beverage stall, labeled “Hallinger’s”, providing a slight relief from the cold to those who could afford it.

Archie’s throat bobbed at the sight. Tantalizing steam rose from the cups as the old man passed them on to customers. She had forgotten to pack any of her savings, however, and forced herself to look away.

Perhaps she should just board the next train? Then perhaps she could go somewhere she wanted to go. She could telephone her father, and he could join her. If anything, it would be worth it to get out of the cold.

A light in the corner of her eye made her turn. The next train was approaching, its headlight glowing like a beacon in the swirling snow. Archie leaned over the edge, trying to see it better.

A sudden gust blew up against Archie’s back, and she lurched towards the edge of the platform.

She cried out, slipping.

Just as she was about to fall onto the tracks, a hand seized her upper arm and jerked her back.

“Oi, careful miss!” came a heavily accented voice from behind her.

She gasped, heart pounding. Whirling around, she saw her rescuer was actually a boy around her age.

Standing a head taller, with a cheerful face and cheeks full of freckles, he wore a brilliant red scarf, which contrasted with his bright green eyes.

“Now wha’s a li’le girl like you doin’ so near the tracks?” he asked, brows pulled together with concern, “Ya coulda been hit!”

Right on time, the train blew by, not stopping. The rush of air that came with it nearly knocked her over again, but the boy stabilized her.

“Light li’l thing aren’t ya?” he chuckled.

“I’m not little!” she protested, pulling back from him and standing at her full height.

He crossed his arms, looking her up and down.

“You look li’l to me, miss, and I ain’t no giant.”

Archie glared up at him.

He stared down at her expectantly.

“What?” she asked.

“Aren’t ya goin’ to say thank ya?” he asked innocently. “I saved yer life, di’n’t I?”

Archie ground her teeth. She liked this boy less and less by the second.

“Thank you,” she bit out.

Not seeming to notice her tone, he grinned and dipped his head.

“You’re welcome!”

Archie turned and walked away.

“Wha’er you here for if ya don’t mind me askin?” he ran to keep up with her.

“I do mind.” She fired back.

“Come on! Next train won’t be fer another thir’y minutes, might as well share.”

“Don’t want to,” she grumbled, continuing on her way.

“You're a little young to be so grumpy,” he queried, keeping pace, “Me da always said folks do beh’er to talk abou’ wha’s eaten ‘em rather than holding it in.”

Archie whirled around to face him, emotions churning up inside her. “I don’t know why I’m here, all right? My mum brought me, but she won’t explain why. She made me get up at three in the morning and only let me pack one bag. She wouldn’t even let me take my dollhouse! I’m tired. I haven’t eaten. I’m cold. And I…I…just want to go home!”

The words spilled out of her with the angry tears she had been holding back. Next thing she knew, she was sobbing in the middle of the station.

The boy gaped at her.

“Shh, i’s alright!” he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, glancing around. “It can’t be all tha’ bad? Why don’t ya come sit wi’ me?”

Sniffling, she nodded, letting him lead her to sit on a bench by the newspaper stand.

“Now,” the boy began, “why don’t you tell me what yer name is? Mine is Tom, but me da calls me Tommy.”

Still sniffling, she blinked up and said, “A…Archie,”

“Tha’s not really a girl’s name, is it?” he blurted.

She glared at him.

“If it is, i’s a nice one!” He nodded emphatically, “reminds me of… buildings.”

She stopped sniffling, “Buildings?”

He nodded even more vigorously, “You know… arches?”

She didn’t know if he was being serious or pulling her leg.

“Anyway,” he brushed it off, holding out a gloved hand, “Nice to meet ya, Archie.”

She shook it uncertainly, still not sure what was wrong with him.

“So, what makes ya think this is so bad? Perhaps yer mum just wants to take you somewhere nice?”

Archie glanced in her mother’s direction. She had finally gotten a turn on the phone and didn’t seem to notice her daughter was now sitting with a strange boy

“If we’re going somewhere nice, why is my dad not coming?” She asked, “Why does she not tell me? She’s always so mean whenever I try to ask.”

Tommy’s expression turned thoughtful. “All I know is, whenever me da had a lot goin’ on, he wouldn’ say much either. He would be short wi’ me though and order me around more than normal. Deep down, though, I knew there was a reason.”

Archie shook her head, “What reason does my mom have?”

“Was there somethin’ wrong with yer da?” he asked, “Maybe ‘e were mean to her?”

“No!” she glared at him. “My dad doesn’t do anything wrong! He is always nice, and when he goes on trips, he always brings me something back. Like these!” She held up her small, gloved hands.

“Those are nice. So, he traveled a lot?”

Archie nodded, “He works with one of those car companies, one of the big ones. "

“Ah, cars!” he exclaimed. “That’s pretty amazin’! So, he always brings you stuff back?”

Archie nodded, “Yep! And if he goes somewhere interesting, he tells me about it.”

“Must be rather lonely, though?”

“No,” Archie shook her head, “It’s for business so he goes with people he works with, like Ms. Reed.”

“Ms. Reed?”

“Yeah, she helps him out. She gave me a stuffed horse once.”

“Tha’s nice… So, yer mum never goes with him?” Tommy asked, looking thoughtful again.

Archie shook her head, “No. She hates when he goes on trips. They always fight after. I don’t know why, though. Just one week ago they were shouting for so long, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, ’bout what?”

“I… I don’t know,” Archie looked down. “I tried to listen, but it… I don’t like hearing them like that. Most of the time I just,” she flushed red.

“Just what?

She bit her lip, “I just hide under my covers.”

Tom gave her a sympathetic look and rubbed her shoulder, “Mine fought sometimes too. Always scared me. I though’ they would split a couple times, bu’ they stuck together pre’y well until… well until me mum passed.”

Archie sat up in surprise. “She died?”

Tom nodded, giving her a sad smile, “Yeah, got really sick. I was ten. After tha’ it was just me and me da. Even though we would also fight every now and then, I always knew he was dealin’ with a lo’.”

Archie paused, “Where’s your dad now?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably. “He… well, we don’t talk tha’ much anymore. I wish we did, though.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can I ask what happened?”

“I…” he hesitated, looking out at the tracks, “I made a mistake. I was angry at ‘im you see, felt like ‘e was ‘olding me back because of mum, bu’ I should have known tha’ he was just tryin to be there for me. Be close en all. I ran off af’er a fight and, well, we couldn’t patch things up la’er.”

Archie furrowed her brow. “What does he do now?”

He smiled sadly, “He works a lot… I just haven’t found a way to tell him I’m sorry.”

Archie looked down at her hands. “Maybe you could write him a letter?”

He smiled at her, “I’ll ‘ave to try that.”

Another gust of icy wind blew through the station, making Archie shudder as it seemed to go right through her coat.

Tommy seemed unaffected, still lost in thought. He brightened after a moment and turned to look at Archie, “Ya know, I think yer mum is probably the same as me da. She has a lo’ going on and tha’s why she’s so shor’ wi’ ya.”

Archie twisted her mouth, “Maybe, but….”

“But wha’?”

“She just… I don’t think she wants to talk to me. She just tells me to do things, and I never know why.”

“Why don’t you try talking to ‘er?”

“I have!” She exclaimed.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, “Do ya? Or do ya just get mad and storm off?”

“I… I did get mad earlier, but I didn’t want to! She told me to leave when I just wanted to know…” she trailed off.

Tommy patted her arm again. “Tell ya wha’, how ‘bout you get some hot chocolate from Mr. Hallinger’s over there. Makes the best cocoa there is! I always used to ‘ave some with me da before we went travelin’. Nothin’ feels beh’er.”

Archie looked mournfully at the cart, “I don’t have money…”

The boy rummaged in his pocket and then grabbed her wrist, setting two bills in her hand.

“Get me one too!” he said.

With a rush of excitement, she got up.

“Okay! Aren’t you coming?”

He shook his head, grinning.

“Lazy,” she rolled her eyes and set off towards the cart.

She asked for two hot chocolates. The old man smiled at her. His face was wrinkled from age and he stood slightly stooped, but he had the kind of wrinkles that suggested he always smiled a lot.

“Very well, Miss,” he replied in a heavy accent, “Would yer friend like marshmallows?”

“Um,” she turned to look in Tommy’s direction, but he was gone.

She ran over to the bench, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Tommy!” She called out.

No response came.

Confused, she walked back to the cart, where the old man was waiting. He had an odd expression on his face as he was watching her.

“Tommy was his name?” He asked in a low voice.

“Yes, but he’s gone now.” Archie replied, looking back again.

At that moment a train rolled into the station, sending another gust of wind through them. This time, it screeched to a halt.

The speakers blared with an announcement that boarding for London would start in five minutes. The train doors opened, letting out a trickle of passengers.

Archie looked up in surprise. That was their train.

“Tell ya wha’,” the old man said, holding the two steaming cups, “If I see yer friend, I’ll be sure to give ‘im one free o’ charge. Instead, give this to yer mum. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Archie accepted the cups hesitantly. “I…I don’t know if she’ll want any.”

The old man smiled warmly, and there was a knowing look in his eye. “If it comes from you, I’m sure she will. Nothing melts a parent’s heart more than when their kid comes back with something nice for ‘em.”

“I wasn’t too nice earlier…” she said, staring at the cup.

“Tha’s fine.” He held it out, “Parents always know their kid’s ‘eart. Just try, and see.”

Archie nodded, accepting the cups and walking over to where her mother was hanging up the phone.

“Mum?” she asked tentatively.

Her mother sighed, “Yes, Archie?”

For the first time, Archie noticed how tired her mother looked. Her pale, normally rosy skin, was almost ashen. And her eyes, a rich brown color, seemed dim, as if she hadn’t slept in a long time.

Swallowing, Archie held up the small, steaming cup.

“I got this for you, mum. I heard that it’s good to have… before traveling.”

Her mother glanced at the cup, eyes widening slightly. And then she smiled, a real, warm smile.

“Thank you, Archie,” she said, accepting the cup and taking a sip, “It’s just what I needed.”

Archie shifted, “Is this our train?”

Her mother nodded, “Yes, it’s time.”

“And… Dad isn’t coming with us?”

Her mother hesitated and then shook her head. “He didn’t want to come, sweetie.”

Archie knew she was holding back, but she didn’t press it. She just nodded.

“I… I’m sorry about…” but before she could finish, her mother wrapped her up in a hug.

Archie tensed but then hugged her back.

“Archie… I,” her mother said, pulling back, “I know this is tough on you, but I promise, this will be a new start for us. I can get you a dollhouse just like the one you had. Better even.”

Archie shook her head, smiling, “I didn’t play that much with it, anyway.”

Her mother’s expression seemed to stutter for a moment, and then she smiled again, eyes glistening.

Grabbing their cases, Archie and her mother boarded the train. Archie kept looking for any sign of Tommy, but he seemed to have vanished.

They found an empty compartment and sat across from each other. As the train started to move out of the station, Archie looked out the window. Suddenly, a flash of red caught her eye. Sitting up, she saw Tommy standing by Mr. Hallinger and his cart. He was waving at her, grinning. She waved cheerfully back.

“Who’s that?” her mother asked, peering out.

“Oh, just a friend I met,” Archie smiled, settling back down. She watched as the train station, Tommy, and her old life disappeared behind them.

. . .

Once the last train departed, all fell quiet at the station. It was nighttime now, and the only sound came from the crickets and other creatures getting ready for their time in the open.

Mr. Hallinger had just finished packing away his cart for the following morning, when the station would once again be filled with people coming and going.

Slowly, he pushed it down the station, pausing at the end to rearrange the flowers in front of the small memorial plaque set in the brick wall. A dog had apparently riffled through them, and the old man liked to keep it tidy whenever he could.

“G’night me boy,” he said in a broken whisper, “I’ll see ya in the morning.”

The plaque read:

Tom (Tommy) Hallinger

1909-1921