Train Trouble

I had some trouble on the train. Yep, real trouble. With a capital “T” and that rhymes with “me” and I had trouble. The day started well enough. I invited my sister to go to the children’s museum with me. Since she has three toddlers and I have three toddlers, I knew we’d make a grand group. She lives over an hour away, and it’s never fun to drive alone with kids, so I suggested she take the train. After all, I’ve taken the train with my toddlers often, and it’s wonderful! No driving, no stopping for potty breaks (there’s one on the train), no stopping for snacks. We sit in the top of the car and enjoy our treats and books while we look out over the countryside through the big windows. Yep, the train is the way to travel with tots.

After some hesitation, my sister agreed to try a train trip. With one infant and two toddlers, she had her hands full, but her husband was available to drop her off, and he helped her onto the platform and onto the train. She called me when they were settled. “The train’s great!” she said cheerily, feeding her baby while the toddlers knelt on their seats, mesmerized by the passing scenery. An hour later I picked her up at the stop near me, loaded her into my bus (er … van) and we were off to the museum. We spent a glorious day letting the children play to their hearts’ content.

Once we were finished, we buckled all six kids back into the van and headed to the train station. I stopped on the way to pick up my teenage daughter for her afternoon appointment.

Pulling up to the station, I saw that we had just enough time to get onto the platform before the returning train arrived. By now, all of the toddlers were asleep. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I told my oldest daughter and hoisted the baby carseat up and onto my hip. My sister put on her oversized backpack with baby gear, and then picked up her sleeping 2-year-old. The tired 3-year-old walked sleepily next to his mama. We reached the platform as the train pulled up.

“I’ll help you load,” I told my sister, seeing there was no possible way (unless she sprouted arms) that she could finagle so many sleeping little people onto the train. The moment the doors opened, I muscled my way past the exiting crowd, carried the car seat up the short flight of steps, and set the baby down on the first available seat. My sister was right behind me.

“Goodbye!” I said, not even giving her a hug, and sprang down the stairs to the door … just as it closed. “I need to get off,” I said with a smile to the train guard standing there. He pushed the button for me, but the door didn’t open.

“It’s already locked,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Then open it,” I said with another smile. “I was just loading a baby.” It hadn’t been 30 seconds since the train had arrived.

“I can’t,” he said again. Sure that he hadn’t heard me I raised my voice a notch or two (or maybe a bit more.)

“I HAVE TO GET OFF THIS TRAIN!” I repeated. “I HAVE THREE TODDLERS SITTING RIGHT THERE IN THAT CAR WAITING FOR ME!”

Surprised by my intensity, the agent picked up his radio, glanced at it, and then started to slowly saunter to the front of the train. A man in a nearby seat shook his head. “What’s a radio for?” he commented sympathetically.

I stood frozen to the spot as I watched the agent leave. The train was still. Five seconds, 10 seconds … Then, slowly, it started to move. Should I scream? Should I faint? Should I pound on the windows? “The train will stop,” I told myself desperately. But slowly, slowly, it picked up speed until the platform was behind us. I felt sick. This wasn’t happening to me. It was all a bad dream.

I felt in my pocket for my cell phone, but realized I had left it in the car. I was alone, and the world was moving past me, while my van with my three toddlers and young teenage daughter was still waiting, by the curb, in a red zone.

Slowly, I came out of my trance. The train agent was nowhere to be seen (I wouldn’t have been very polite to him anyway), so I turned and walked dazedly back up the stairs to where my sister was sitting. She looked at me in total shock. “Did you get off the train?” she asked.

“No.” I replied. “I’m right here.” In a moment she had recovered.

“I’ll call your phone,” she said. Within a few seconds my daughter was on the line. “Lock the doors while I think,” I told her. But I couldn’t think.

A few minutes later the train agent came back. “Just get off at the next stop and ride back,” he offered, unconcerned. I couldn’t even look at him. Had he never been a mother? Trapped in a train while your helpless children are waiting on a curbside? “Call the police!” I wanted to yell. “Stop this train!” “This is an emergency!!!”

The minutes seemed like hours (only eight) until the next stop. I gave my sister a half-hearted hug and stepped out onto the empty platform. With no phone I felt miles away from any compassionate person. I waited on the lonely benches until the next northbound train arrived (12 minutes) and then sat by the door as we rode back to my station (eight minutes).

The train pulled up to the station. I expected to see police officers everywhere, but there was my van, still sitting patiently in the red zone. I couldn’t contain myself. All dignity aside, I ran the few yards around the end of the track and up the sidewalk to where my children were waiting. Out of breath, I climbed into my seat. From the back benches my toddlers were wide-eyed. “Mama went on the train?” said my 2-year-old.

“Yep, Mama went on the train,” I answered. My teenager breathed a sigh of relief. “We locked the doors and waited,” she said, still in shock.

When we sat down for dinner that night, a few hours had passed and my heart had finally stopped racing. “Mama rode the train today,” offered my 7-year-old. My husband looked at me, surprised.

“You did?”

“It’s a long story,” I told him, “one that may take me a few years to laugh about.” But fortunately, by the next day I was laughing on the phone with my sister. And we made a solemn pact: The next time we get together we will forgo public transportation and just take my red bus. Neither one of us wants to risk any more train trouble.