Train Enthusiasts
A short story
“We’re not terrorists, Jimmy,” Zara said as her finger hovered over the red button atop the three-inch square circuit board on the desk in front of them. “We do this for humanity.”
She swiveled her chair back toward the desk and slowly lowered her hand toward the button.
“Wait!” Jimmy nudged Zara’s hand to the side. “This is a big deal. Are we sure?”
Zara folded her hands together on her lap. The button could wait a little longer. Her eyes traced the thin, black cable from the button board to her laptop and the wire from the computer to the ethernet port. “We’re sure, babe. I’m sure, and I know you are, too, but if you want to talk about it some more, we should do that. It is a big deal, the biggest deal in the history of the world.”
“Can we? There’s no going back once we press the button.” Jimmy tried to will his hands to stop shaking. His tongue tasted like cold metal. “I’m worried that this will make the world medieval.”
“It won’t.”
“Maybe not to medieval times, but ridding the world of cars will have repercussions we can’t foresee. I know it’s best for the planet. Even electric cars are a scourge because of lithium mining, increased power plant emissions, and that electrics take more energy to build than old-style fossil fuel autos. And people still die in traffic accidents. But everything’s connected. Who knows what will happen if we remove cars from the planetary equation?”
Amber sunlight filtered through the window, and soft cooing from the pigeons echoed off the walls. Steam wafted from the coffee cups that bracketed the circuit board on their Ikea bedroom work table.
Jimmy squinted and adjusted his striped train conductor’s cap to block the sunlight.
“Don’t overthink this, love.”
“I need to be sure,” Jimmy said. “Can we talk about it again?” He felt light-headed.
My heart must be going two hundred beats per minute.
Zara shook her head. “More talk will only gnaw at your soul. You’ll relive the last moments before we pressed the kill button rather than enjoy the beautiful world we created. Here’s what’s going to happen, what has to happen. I’ll press the button to send an over-the-air update to the world’s one-point-five-million cars. Only the update won’t update anything because it’s a car-killer virus that bricks engines. The computer code you created will bypass automobiles’ firewalls. Thanks to a universal worldwide charging system, all vehicles use the same operating system, enabling us to infect every automobile everywhere.”
Jimmy nodded. “You’re right.”
“No, we’re right. You just have the jitters.”
“Yeah.”
“People are fed up with cars like when Tesla forced customers to pay thousands of dollars to extend their electric cars’ range, when BMW billed drivers an annual fee for heated seats, and when Mercedes charged owners twelve hundred a year for an acceleration boost. All controlled through cars’ software. People will thank us.”
“They’ll never know who did it, right?”
Zara’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Trains will blossom after today. When cars no longer function, the political will that supported the automobile-highway complex will collapse like a sand castle annihilated by an ocean wave. Governments will fund trains, not cars.”
“Japan, Europe, and China already have great train systems.”
“America will, too, soon. And those countries’ trains will be even better. Trains are—”
“The safest way to travel.” Jimmy squinted at the eight-car Lionel model train chug-chugging as it circled their room on the catwalk above them. He built that platform and laid the train tracks the first day they moved into their Bronx apartment.
“Yes, but more than that, trains are a fun way to travel. Does anyone truly enjoy driving? Maybe they did in the nineteen-fifties, but city driving, highway driving, even country road driving—it’s all stressful. In contrast, trains let you relax, read a book, listen to music, watch a movie, or enjoy the scenery rolling by. Cars are expensive, too. Except for the rich, people agonize over the cost. Gas, maintenance, insurance, parking tickets—they’re a drain on people's livelihoods.”
“I love to ride the first car when I take the subway,” Jimmy blurted.
“I know you do.”
“This is the way America should have been. The proliferation of cars and their oppressive support system of roads, gas stations, repair shops, garages, parking lots, parking meters, and sleazy car salespeople isn’t natural; it isn’t even a product of capitalistic economic competition. An act of Congress built the Interstate Highway System, a massive infusion of federal dollars forced by Detroit and its lobbyists. If the fifty billion dollars authorized by Congress in nineteen-fifty-four to construct highways had been spent on trains, America would be a different, better country today. Imagine having a-hundred-and-sixty-one thousand more miles of train tracks in America instead of all those highways.”
“Yes.”
“The cinema adores train movies: The Lady Vanishes, The General, Murder on the Orient Express, The Taking of the Pelham One Two Three—”
“I love those movies,” Jimmy said. His phone piped a loud, three-note train whistle, but he ignored it.
The air tasted thin, and Jimmy saw the room’s light fade, the bed, desk, lamp, and computer losing color and focus. Adrenaline shot into his veins, quickening his pulse.
“Cars are cramped cans, while trains are luxurious expanses, some of which have bedrooms and dining cars.”
“Observation cars, too.”
“All of that, Jimmy. We’re delivering grandeur to the world.”
“Grandeur… We’ll take the Oi River steam locomotive in Japan in October to celebrate our first wedding anniversary!”
“I already booked our trip.”
“I can’t wait.”
“We’re mind-blowing the planet.”
Jimmy swallowed deep breaths. His heart pounded against his rib cage. He thought he would have a heart attack, but twenty-six-year-olds didn’t get heart attacks.
Zara slipped her fingers through Jimmy’s blond hair. “You can press the button if you want.”
“Can I think about that for a second?”
Zara kissed him and slammed her palm on the button. A gust from her hand blew the paper with Jimmy’s computer code off the desk. “It’s done.”
Jimmy’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. He grabbed his left arm with his right hand and wailed in a slur of syllables, “Call an ambulance!” His face morphed to blue and he grabbed his left arm with his right hand. “Call, call—” he croaked.
Zara instinctively snatched her phone off the desk, but her fingers lost strength and she dropped it onto the floor. She could call, but no ambulance could come.
If you enjoyed this story, I think you’ll also like my short story, The Train to Nowhere.
Those of us living in the back end of no where would like a word with Jimmy. Ireland would *almost* be back in the middle ages, we have less trains now than we did 100 years ago. I would have to jog everywhere.
I was reading Laura, and I am south of Atlanta but with no bus or train. There are states that have a train system already set up but only around Atlanta. Food would not get to the stores and I am afraid the two didn't think this all the way through.