Freezing Cold

Original writing: September 2019
Last modified: September 2019

A man stands alone in the stairs of a moving train. The winter cold can be felt through the terrible insulation of the passage between the train wagons. A chaos of screeching sounds can be heard, accompanying the train on its way to McMasterville, a small and quiet urban town of Quebec. The man's gaze is lost out in the distance. Through the small window, past the small shops and the fields that stretch for miles, the man is gazing at the stars. He doesn't take his eyes off their soft twinkle.

A bright light suddenly washes into the passage, tearing away the view of the stars and replacing it with a dull reflection of gray walls. The man protects his eyes for a moment, frowning. The door to the wagon is wide open, with a young woman leaning against it.

The woman has long brown hair, small lips and dark eyes. She's accompanied by a paper-thin boy, probably in his twenties, they're laughing together. Their noses touch. The man relaxes his shoulders, sighs, and looks away for moment. To be heard over the screeching of the train, the boy speaks very loudly.

"...so, you still down for this weekend?"

There's a short moment of silence as the woman's smile leaves her face. She takes a step back. The boy closes the gap by taking a step forward, continuing.

"You know, three is even more fun than two... Joey, he's a nice guy, he's gentle... I mean, look, you said yourself you would try!"

Eyes narrowing, the woman points a finger right in the man's face.

"I already told you, no! No means no!"

The boy reaches out.

"Marie..."

The woman backs up, turns around and enters the wagon. The boy watches her leave, he doesn't follow her. Sighing, he removes his hat and rakes his fingers through his hair. He stands still for a moment. The man, one eyebrow raised, is watching everything from his spot in the stairs.

The boy deftly pulls his cell phone out of his pocket - he's receiving a call. Suddenly alert, he takes a quick look inside the train and closes the door to the wagon. The passage is plunged back into semi-darkness.

The man's gaze happily plunges back into the dark sky.

"Hey Joey... Yeah, actually, she said no... Uh-huh..."

Eyes adapting, the man can slowly see the stars reappearing in the sky. The moon isn't visible tonight.

"...of course not, Joey, look... Joey, shut up and let me speak!"

The sky now fully restored, the man can see the millions of stars staring back at him. He smiles.

"Alright, look, even if she doesn't want to try, it's no big deal... We can still have our fun! Yo, my buddy gave me a little something special, just a little powder that'll take care of everything for us..."

Eyebrows suddenly knit, the man frowns, ignoring the stars. His head tilts slightly to the side.

"...Of course not, not like that... You just slip in her drink when she's not looking and... Haha, dude, I know! That's the spirit!"

The mans hands start trembling. Twisting himself around, he uses the railing to shoot himself up to the top of the stairs. Rooting himself, he stops moving, faces the boy. Currently smiling, the boy lifts his head, notices the man. The man stares back at him with daggers in his eyes. The boy's smile slowly fades. His eyes narrow. The two men stare each other down in the darkness. A small voice makes its way out of the boy's cell phone. It tries to catch his attention. Without averting his eyes, the boy slowly brings his thumb around. Ever so slowly, he presses the button to end the call. The voice is cut off. Neither man says a word.

The train keeps screeching on. A minute passes. The train starts slowing down. The wagon door opens, interrupting the silent duel with a blinding light.

- François, look, I'm sorry...

It's the woman again, Marie. Destabilized look in his eyes, the man looks over at Marie, then at the boy. The boy's nose flaring, he curls a lip in disgust and gives the man a menacing look. The man's face turns white. Staring at his feet, he awkwardly steps around the boy and flees into the train wagon.

The man walks quickly towards the front of the train, hands trembling. He notices their shaking while opening a passage door, and quickly proceeds to jam his hands in his pockets. He hurries accross two whole wagons before finally stopping. At this point, the train had stopped moving for a while. They were at the station. An alarm sounds, indicating the doors will shut soon. Breathing in a raggedly, the man takes a quick look behind him. No one. The man takes the nearest exit out of the train.

Hopping out into the streets, the man sees the woman and the boy a short ways ahead of him. The two of them are laughing. Looking down, the man hesitates, face torn between a mix of hatred and fear. He pulls his right hand out of his pocket and into the cold, watches it keep trembling. In the freezing cold, he watches his hand quickly turn white, then red. Pure hatred slowly replaces the fear on his face. The man exposes his left hand to the cold and rushes straight forward.

The boy isn't very far ahead, the woman is right next to him. She pulls her hat down in an attempt to cover her ears, and then gives up and starts rubbing her arms.

"God, it's so cold! Do you live far from here?"

"No, don't worry, I live just a few streets ahead. Come on, let's hurry!"

The couple speeds up. The man does the same. Each step hits the hard snow with a solid crunch. Up ahead, the two turn a street corner. The crunch of their steps can still be heard echoing off the houses in the quiet neighbourhood. Following their sounds, the man tries his best not to slip on the occasional ice patch.

A scream rips through the air, following by a sickening crack. The man stops in his tracks.

"François...?"

Silence. The man, frozen in place, hesitates. A soft crunch is heard, followed by more silence. The man takes a step forward. And another. He starts running, the sound of his boots seemingly louder than ever. He finally turns the street corner. He slows to a stop as the scene unfolds before him. The boy is on his back, head full of blood. The woman is on her knees, lips trembling. Eyes wide open, she doesn't move. Tears start to flow down her cheeks.

The man is frozen in place. The woman stares blankly at the boy's body. More silence. The air is frigid. The man tears his eyes off the scene and looks down at his hands. They're completely red. He slowly tucks them into the warmth of his pockets. He starts to slowly back up, looking back towards the boy. The crack of the snow could be heard from blocks away. The woman doesn't react. The man turns around and walks away.

Sobbing can be heard in the distance. The man doesn't turn back. In the cold, his nose turned red. He removes his frozen hands from the warmth of his pockets. He keeps walking, and walking, as if the cold was an integral part of him. He heads towards a dimly lit park. Once in the middle, he stops walking. Nose leaking, he lifts his gaze up to the millions of tiny sparkles in the sky. A smile forms on his face.