Matthew Eric Vital

Chad Willenborg

GE30980: Creative Writing

10 May 2012

Runaway Train

The dock waters stood still as she continued to dip her feet into the water creating

ripples. The slightest droplet of water slid down her feet and began to create motioned rings,

eventually fading out reconvening back to a calm and motionless state. The sun began to bask

her honey blonde hair, lightening each strand giving off the most iridescent highlights. The

late summer afternoon breeze cooled her rested body. She had been running the whole day,

keeping in a constant motion. She had circled the town at least a dozen times before taking a

break by the dock.

Dixie lived in what she called a ‘little big town’ of Westbrook Point. Quite an

oxymoron, but rather than saying it was a so-called ‘smalltown’ was a mere understatement.

Little implied that the town itself held its parameters about twenty miles in every direction

from the very dock where she sat. Big was in reference to the immense population that

seemed to inhabit the area. The town was a character itself, bringing in the most ecclectic

people. Not only was the dock one of the central points of the town, the Fairchild Train

Station down the road was also noted as one of the most hustle and bustle this little big town

has ever seen since they put it in years ago. Gazing into the distance at the faint rainbow from

last night’s rain drizzle shown over the lighthouse in the distance. As she took in one last

moment of her relaxed state, she sat up basking in the sun’s warming touch.

Sitting up from the dock and placing her flip flops back onto her feet, making her

way to her bicycle. As she pedaled down the road she wondered why she had decided to go

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home so soon. She didn’t want to have to deal with her mother scolding her and asking where

she was all day. Or even why she wasn’t home to make dinner or even finish the chores that

her mother neglected to complete during the day. She became the inevitable scapegoat for her

mother’s dilemmas.

Home in this little big town for Dixie Sweet was a realization that she needed to get

out. She couldn’t wait till the day where she would be able to make it to the West Coast and

live her life without having to deal with life in Westbrook Point. A life outside of this town to

call her own was all she imagined. She just never found that smack of inspiration—more or

less, the pocketful of serious change for a life choice that drastic.

Arriving towards her boxed-in cottage from hell, she took note of the pale baby blue

paint chips cascading the house’s exterior. The place was going down into shambles. The

wooden steps were two stomps from actually whittling away or possibly causing a serious

injury upon leaving this hellhole. Welcome to the danger zone, it maybe a major shithole, but

it beats having to pay rent out of pocket when trying to save up to ultimately leave this place.

Opening the rusted screen back door, the hinges snapped back with an ear-cringing sound. As

she made her way towards her room and headed back downstairs to make her mother’s

dinner.

“Where have you been?” Dixie’s cross-eyed boozed-hound of a mother slurred from

her mouth. The short tumbler glass in her left hand seemed pointless since the bottle of

whiskey in the right was clearly her medicine of choice for today’s ritual bashing. With her

hair side-swept to her face, it looked matted and knotted. The woman needed some serious

hygiene tips. The least she could do was wash away the odors of booze eradicating from her

body and actually brushed her teeth with toothpaste. It gives a brand new level to Ke$ha’s hit

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song, Tik Tok, that mentions that she brushes her teeth with a bottle of Jack. No, her mother

not only did that, but swished and downed the amber whiskey like a newfound mouthwash.

With a sigh as she opened the fridge doors, she answered, “I was at the dock. I just

wanted to clear my mind for a bit.” Grabbing the pot from the cabinet she began to concoct

some type of makeshift home-style dinner for her whiskey-soaked mother. In this household

Dixie was the mother. She worked part-time at the local hotspot diner and attended

overpopulated community college. And still was she able to put somewhat of a dinner on the

table.

In reality, she had no choice. Life got a bit harder once her father had left a couple

years ago, probably about the same time the train station ventured its way into the townsfolk

daily routine. Her father was a businessman, like her wanted out of this town, but unlike her,

he later found out to be quite a womanizer. Paul Sweet had became raptured by the glories of

the so-called Wall Street life and picked up a few women on the way. Cindy, Sally, Mary,

Anne, and Georgina. There were probably more, but those are the ones her mother would

retort to her as a kid. Having a mother who straight up and tells you of her own father’s illicit

affairs was the truth that Dixie lived with. Sugarcoating the truth was a treat when it came to

her mother’s stories. Her mother and father’s divorce was one of the town’s top scandals for

a couple weeks. The media of this little big town always needed a local celebrity of it’s

townspeople in the tabloid headlines. In a way, Dixie envied her father—he actually left this

town. Then again, he actually left his mother.

Dixie’s mother was no different. The divorce had turned her into a woman scorned,

the town’s black sheep. She was no saint either. Night after night she would go to the bars on

a drunken frenzy finding a man to take home and help raise this dysfunctional family. In the

end, the bars put a ban on her admittance. She then found an alternate route and the liquor

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store became her safe haven. The bar patrons knew of her scandalous lifestyle and only

sympathized Dixie. It was always a surprise to find out which day’s drink of choice was

provided by the unemployment checks rolling in every other week.

And there it was, made-up chicken primavera. Her concoction was hopefully enough

to satisfy the thriving hunger of her drunken mother. Placing a plate in front of her mother,

she watched her every move. Patricia Sweet took a shot of whiskey to her mouth and her face

let out a scowl. Thud. Like clockwork, her mother lay passed out practically onto the plate of

amateur Italian pasta right before her eyes. Dixie, taking in the moment, ran upstairs to get

ready for the night.

This Friday night she was to meet up with Gretchen and Evan Haywood and Trey

Kelley. Gretchen was one of Dixie’s best friends in Westbrook. They met on the playground

because Gretchen came up to her and mentioned she liked the ribbon in her hair. Quite a

jealous fashionista Gretchen was as a little girl. Always wanting the best new thing and in

that moment in the sandbox, she realized Dixie was one step ahead of her. Evan was her twin

brother who she began seeing a year ago, he was a musical prodigy. He could play the guitar

so sweetly to a person’s ears. The best part—it was all by ear. He could read notes,

eventually, but Evan played notes and could recognize and distinguish each sound. And Trey

was Gretchen’s boyfriend tagging along for the ride, no random hidden talent, but did know

how to stay still and keep quiet. The Haywood’s were in essence the town’s known multiples

of Westbrook Point. In all actuality, they were the only set of multiples this town knew of.

How Dixie and the Haywood’s clashed was beyond her. The Haywood twins were practically

her self-proclaimed family once news was out about Dixie’s parent’s divorce.

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This evening back on the dock, the four walked onto the party boat. The town’s locals

had socials to promote safety. Regardless of how it sounded, like it was a semi-chaperoned

rave of fun, it actually was a setting that most active townspeople attended. Even good old

fisherman, William Brickman, would come to court his town sweetheart, Annabelle Charlie.

It was what Dixie needed, time to just enjoy the night and be with her friends.

The dimmed lantern lights were strung around the dock’s wooden posts illuminating

the picturesque nightscape. Dixie began to dance the night away forgetting about her

problems at home. The flicker of the fireflies added to the night on the water scene. Later,

Gretchen and Trey had departed from the group and left together a couple hours later. Dixie

and Evan stayed the whole night together as they celebrated their one-year anniversary. Dixie

was not the type of girl who relied on a month-by-month countdown of her relationship. As

they danced to the music playing, all the couple cared about was having fun. It was a night of

festivities that no one could resist once they were captivated in the party-boat atmosphere—a

pure ecstasy of this little big town.

The warmth of the morning sun and the faint whistles of the Fairchild Train Station

substituted for the six o’clock rooster screams. As Dixie and Evan awoke from under the old

willow tree with the blanket wrapped around them, Dixie looked up to kiss Evan ever so

softly in this morning’s daybreak. They had left the boat party sometime after Gretchen and

Trey. Headed towards the town park by the swing sets, like children, they ran around the

playground until they both seem to have exerted all the energy from their bodies. Dixie was

happy to be with Evan. Waking up to him made her heartbeat with ease that she could see

herself doing for the rest of her life. As they both stood up from under the tree, he began to

pick bits of grass that lay in her hair. At an instance, a tear rolled down Dixie’s cheek. Evan

in quite a confused manner looked at her expression with concern.

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“I’m so happy that I have you in my life. I don’t even want to go back to that disaster

house. It’s just reeking of hostility and despair,” Dixie cried as she wiped of the tears from

her eyes looking up at Evan. “Can we just run away?”

Evan looking at her with confidence embraces her and says, “I can see that you’re

obviously scared. The situations you deal with at home is one thing; you’ll get through it. Just

remember, you’ve never been this loved so much by someone else—even your own parents

have neglected you, rather than trying to be strong for you. You have me to lean onto if

anything. You owe it to yourself to keep moving.”

They both looked up at each other and in unison retorted, “The best is yet to come.” It

was the phrase that they used on a daily to one another. It was like they both knew each other

so well that they could finish each other’s sentences. Folding up the blanket and tossing it

into Evan’s truck, he walks over to open her door before he gets in. As if he was the perfect

gentleman.

“You know, you keep doing that, I’m going to be expecting the whole chauffer

experience,” she sarcastically mentions.

“Oh, yeah… Well, I guess that’ll be my pleasure,” he replies back, “Hey, I got

something to for you tonight. Meet me on the dock by the lamppost that looks directly

towards the lighthouse around seven?” Although it may seem that his romantic persona was a

bit tardy considering that their anniversary was yesterday, Evan hardly did anything

customary; whether it is in his life or relationships. Dixie agreed with this; she was all about

the surprises. That was why she had such a strong feeling towards him. Always keeping her

on her toes. Anything to keep her away from unwanted memories of her childhood of the

pillow covering her ears trying to quiet the slurs and vicious squawks of her parents during

one of their midnight fight fests. She then nodded and pondered what he had planned.

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As Evan pulled up to the unkempt cottage, Dixie looked at him and smiled in

contentment. “See you tonight,” she exclaimed. Turning around and headed into the house

she sees her mother on the porch sprawled out on the outdoor chair swing with a glass of

vodka still perched from her mouth. Without any hesitation, she comments, “Way to drink

responsibly, Mommy Dearest.”

The night on the dock was gorgeous; the sound of the waves rocking back and forth

crashing up against the jetty then breaking off onto the sand. The sun had almost set giving

off the most mesmerizing rich purple sky. Standing there in her summertime dress, she felt so

pristine awaiting her prince charming. Looking at the clock from the lamppost further away,

she noticed it was fifteen after. Where was he? He couldn’t have just forgetting about her.

Her thoughts were soon cut off with the sound of a motorboat slowly easing its way towards

the dock.

“I know, I know… I’m a couple minutes late, I just finished setting up.” Evan

mentions as he offers his hand for Dixie to hop down.

“Where the hell are we going? I didn’t know you had a boat,” Dixie questioned.

“I pulled a few strings. I’m a man of many surprises my love,” he laughed as they

began to float towards the lighthouse. The lighthouse was one of the few things along with

the dock and train station that kept its tourist’s attraction. It was one of the oldest monuments

Westbrook Point had that they treasured. Arriving at the lighthouse’s dock, they exited the

boat and there she saw a petite table outside the lighthouse’s entrance adorned with all the

best pastries and sweets.

“Seriously, this is too surreal. This isn’t the part of the night where you kill me and

stuff my body in the lighthouse, are you?” Dixie joked. She looked around in wonderment.

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Tonight’s dinner amenities was nothing that she had expected as she twirled in her summer

dress all lit up with exhilarated. She was a sight to see. The interwoven stands of glittered

threads enhanced her presence as the lantern’s light illuminated the scene. Dixie was in the

spotlight.

Evan’s gaze was hypnotized by Dixie’s radiance. He paused to take in the moment,

took a deep breath, and walked up to the spinning girl. “Every day, I realize that sometimes

there are some second chances you just need to take once they’ve come by. Usually the ‘once

in a lifetime’ opportunities cross our minds and we bypass it because there’s so much going

around.”

Standing next to Evan, she can’t seem to keep her eyes from watering. She nods

reconfirming his statement. Taking her hand and pulling her close to her they begin to take

one step to the right. Both their eyes are locked on one another and the sounds of the water

act as their night’s soundtrack.

Swaying back and forth, Evan completes his thought, “I got you a present.”

“A present. Evan, seriously, you’ve done enough. This right here just makes me feel

happy that I haven’t plead insanity for once in my life.”

They stop in their dance and he pulls out an envelop from his pocket, handing it to

Dixie. As she tears through the adhesive she sees a one-way train ticket. Hesitant for a while,

Dixie then looks up at Evan, “But, how?”

“I sold my guitar. Take the ticket. I’ve planned it out, my buddy in California owes

me a favor and he said its fine for you to crash there until you find means of living there.”

“But…” she can’t seem to let the words out, “By myself?”

“No, definitely not. Just for time being. Give me a couple weeks, I’m picking up

some extra shifts at work and I have a bit saved up for emergencies. Plus, I figure you can

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familiarize yourself with the area. I know how much you’ve been dying to get out of this

forsaken town and I want to push you towards that future you should have. Then I’ll head

down and we can find a place together,” reassured Evan. His eyes were fixed on her every

move. She knew that this was completely crazy, for her to run off leaving her life behind in

this town like a cloud of dust. She realized that her dreams awaited her within the physical

reaches of the palms of her hands.

“I love you, you know,” she began to sniffle, “I don’t know how, but you’re basically

my fairy godmother in disguise of my amazing boyfriend.” She had felt as if a shooting star

fell straight towards her and hit her in the gut. She was about to actually leave the town that

she lived in with so much despair and unhappiness to rebuild her life.

“Now, I hate to cut it close, but we should probably eat. The dessert is not going to

taste so good after it sits out. Plus, I have to get you on that train.

“Wait? What!?” Dixie shrieked.

“The train leaves at midnight. You have a couple hours to get ready.” He knew that

time was of the essence. In this instance, it was not good wasted on waiting. As spontaneous

as he was in his actions, he knew that he loved her so much that he needed for her to be

happy and start a life outside of this town.

She decided to pack light. The mindset to start fresh had immediately set in. She

didn’t need any more baggage—emotional or physical—once she arrived at the place of her

dreams. Placing the last article of clothing into the carry-on suitcase, she walked her way

down the stairs.

Thinking about writing a note, she decided to at least inform her drunken mother of

her possible whereabouts. Grabbing a pencil and paper, she began to write:

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Mother: The school’s community service has offered select students an opportunity to

help the victims of this past year’s hurricane disaster. I’ve been chosen to help in this

hurricane relief project. See you when it’s over. There’s backup dinners in the

freezer. Dixie.

Hardly the best goodbye-letter she had ever attempted, but it was something on paper.

She knew that no matter what she had written down, that woman would only be waiting

around for a plate of food to pass out face-first into. Thank goodness for future planning, she

had frozen up to a week’s worth of meals in that freezer.

Walking out of her little the house of horrors, she kept moving forward not looking

back. Strolling beside Evan, they walked off towards the train station. The Fairchild Train

Station was a more of a subdued scene at this time of night. Generally, the hustle and bustle

of people made the background noises the train station’s natural musical theme song.

Gretchen and Trey stood there with smiles.

“Just to let you know, I’m visiting once you both are settled down,” Gretchen insisted

helping Dixie with her bag.

“You guys are the best. Obviously this isn’t the type of everyday thing that happens

around here, but hey, we have to live it up right?” Dixie reassured the group as she handed

her ticket to the conductor. The attendant grabbed her suitcase and motioned her towards her

seat. She said her goodbyes to Gretchen and Trey, then made her way to Evan. He had a

sparkle in his eyes that she could see emanating into a light stream running down his face.

“I’ve waited and counted the days that passed me by for the day I would actually get to leave.

You made it happen. Thank you.” She locked her gaze to his, kissed him and whispered,

“I’ve searched for that missing piece of my soul and all along it was you.” Taking a step on

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the train, her eyes locked onto Evan’s. Startled by the rumbling of the train cart, she quickly

closed her eyes to wipe away the tears of happiness, “I’ll see you soon,” she uttered.

Before turning around Evan dropped something into Dixie’s coat pocket. “I’ll see you

soon,” he answered”

Taking a deep breath she realized that she was about to do the impossible. No longer

will this little big town contain her in a bubble of an emotional rollercoaster. She looked at

Evan as the train slowly traveled down the tracks. Then reaching into her pocket she pulled

out a princess cut diamond ring with an engraving in the inner band that she tried to

distinguish in the moonlight. And in unison, like they read each others mind, they Evan

looked at Dixie and Dixie began to decipher, “The best is yet to come.”