'Excuse me, would you like a banana?'

I have no idea why I am standing drunkenly on Platform 2 at Alexandra Palace Station. I'm even less sure as to why I have exactly two bananas. All I know is that I don't really need both of them.

'Please stand back — the next train is not scheduled to call at this station.'

The rails in front of me start to hiss quietly. The hiss grows louder as I wait for the tall, thin man next to me to reply.

'Sorry, did you offer me a banana?' he inquires in a surprised tone. The train hurtles past, perhaps in a flight from the devil himself.

'Yes. Yes I did.'

'Oh.'

The train is nearly gone, but its red beady eyes still watch our conversation from the horizon.

'Are you really offering me a banana?' he inquires once again.

'Well, yes — please have one if you want.'

'Sorry — it's just that there are millions of people in this city, but you're the only one who's ever offered me a banana.'

'Oh.'

'Oh' is one of those words which exists in the human language to make up for the fact that our brains are disappointingly slow and we are more easily shocked and confused than a bunch of escapist sheep testing out the electric fence in damp weather. It is also quite aptly used by both the tall, thin man and myself.

The train now approaching Platform 1 is the...

The electronic voice fades out unexpectedly. Just something up with the announcement — as I turn around I see the train has pulled noiselessly into the station. I'm going to get on it — I now know for a fact I don't live around here.

'Don't get on that train!'

The tall, thin man has my arm in a vice-like grip by the time the train comes to a halt. I stare at him for an hour while mere seconds pass. Meanwhile, the train doors open of their own accord, even though the train is empty. I thrust a banana into the man's hand and make a bolt for the train. I hit the button to close the doors and throw myself into a seat in the corner, but he leaps through the narrowing hole and back into my view.

'I told you not to get on this train! You've made a quite terrible mistake! You must get off this train before it gets —'

But I am no longer conscious.

—

Wake up.

Wake up, damn you!

I regain consciousness with a start. There is no one here. I stare at the faded seats, but they offer no explanation to me. They don't look familiar at all. I'm on a train rushing blindly through a tunnel, and for the first time in my life I'm actually scared. I feel freezing water wash down my spine as the train shudders along its enforced path. For all I know I'm on my way straight to hell — or at least I would be if there really was one. That small thought makes me feel a little better, but not much.

Then I feel a lot worse — I realise I've missed my stop. I was on my way home to Drayton Park, so I was changing trains at Alexandra Palace, so I must be on the way to the terminus at Moorgate. I've never been there before, probably because its grim name has prevented me from straying this far from the safety of the world I know. But now I have no choice: the train continues to hurtle me across my own personal river Styx and into a world full of uncertainty. Little do I know how apt this metaphor really is.

Reality regains its sadistic grip on me once more and I realise that I have failed at yet another simple task. I needed to get home to finish the essay I'm working on, but now I'm going to fail at that, just like everything else. It's at times like this that I realise that I'll never amount to anything in life and that there's probably not that much point in trying. With this idea reaffirmed in my mind, I decide to fall asleep again. Who cares if I never get home?

—

The whooshing noise of the train wakes me as it hurtles past a platform. I rub my eyes and look out through the window at the ceramic scenery as it rushes by. Although it's dark, I can make out the sign on the platform.

MOORGATE

The train rushes at full speed past the terminus. My heart freezes like a block of ice, but manages to continue to squeeze blood through my immobilised body. At least the rabbit has his headlights to explain the situation — I have been plunged into pitch darkness once more, without a single clue as to my current fate. The last thing I feel as my body is thrown forwards is the top of the train crushing me into what I can only hope is unconsciousness.

—

I lie alone on the track, facing the wreckage of the train. I don't remember crawling clear of the wreckage. Terror floods me like dark water, but my pulse does not quicken. My heart is no longer beating. But I know I'm not dead. If I were dead I wouldn't be able to think! Why am I still here?

'I'm sorry you had to go through that — I hope it was quick and painless.'

The tall, thin man is standing over me. He offers me his hand, so I take it and stand up. As I walk along, there is no feeling in my legs. I feel as if my mind is being carried along in someone else's body. I try to talk, but a mere bullfrog croak passes my dry lips. We walk along the tunnel and reach the station. He helps me climb up onto the deserted platform.

'I've been watching you for a while — I didn't think you'd ever notice me.'

'Who are you?'

'I never appreciated what I really had. Neither did you, even though you had so much potential. Such a shame.'

'What?'

'You were so young, too. You could have had such a future, if you'd only realised how capable you really were.'

'Do you mean I'm — dead?'

Involuntary tears start to well in my eyes. I don't know why I feel so much sorrow for my passing. My life was useless and I dragged other people down with my own stupid problems. But I wanted to do something — I just wasn't capable of anything.

'I'm afraid you needed to die. It's the only way you can understand.'

'This isn't fair! I don't want to die! I could have done so much with my life!'

'It wasn't fair on all those people who died the first time that train crashed. They had lives they wanted to lead.'

'What?'

'But that was a pointless waste of human life.'

'Oh! And this is different, then?'

'You are the first kind-hearted person I've seen in 20 years. I thought I ought to repay you for your compassion in life.'

'What? By killing me?'

I stare at him one last time with a glimmer of hope in my eye. He nods slowly.

'By helping you to learn a lesson.'

—

I wake up in my bed with an aching head and a deadly thirst. I draw a deep breath into my lungs and feel the warmth pass back into my body. I muster the strength to pull off the covers and stand up. I'm back home. I'm alive. Sweet tears run down my face. I now seem to have a hangover, so I wander through to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. I take three paracetamol tablets and traipse back to my room. On the desk is an empty banana skin and a single scrap of paper:

Fiction Archive

AlexAshman

26.01.06 Front Page

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