THE TOPIC OF THIS CONTEST WAS:
It was a dreary, cold day, but the cast iron stove kept the passenger car warm. Outside, cobblestone streets covered with orange and red leaves started to appear as they approached the town. She glanced around, wondering why the train wasn’t slowing down. As the locomotive hurtled past the depot, she and the other passengers stared wide-eyed through the windows at…
(Stories need only touch on this topic in some way to qualify.)
Irma’s feet were cold.
She moved closer to the cast iron stove, basking in its warmth. Nana would be here soon. Finally, they could celebrate her birthday. Mom even made her favorite cake.
Nana was barely inside when Irma snatched the bag from her hands.
“Irma, where are your manners?” Lucinda asked, visibly displeased. “Please forgive her, Mom. She’s been waiting all week for you to get here.”
“I figured as much. That’s why I knew I had to get this for her.” Nana smiled. “Now be careful, young lady. That’s quite fragile.”
But Irma didn’t listen. She never did.
Tissue paper flew in the air, some of it landing on the tiny wood pile stacked neatly in the corner. Lucinda scrambled to grab the rest before it reached the stove.
Irma barely noticed as she pulled out a large glass fixture. Ooh, a snow globe! Like Mackenzie’s from down the street. Only hers filled with white flakes as you shook it. This thing-whatever it was-looked nothing like that.
“See that train?” Nana asked, bending down to Irma’s level. “That’s just like the one I took to get here.” She pointed to the fancy cobblestone path and the storefronts scattered alongside the tracks. “And the leaves reminded me of your hair.”
Nana ran her fingers through Irma’s loose, copper curls, and she squirmed. She hated it when people touched her hair. But Nana had brought her a gift, so this time, she would allow it.
“And this… This is what makes it go ‘round.” Nana turned the thick silver handle attached to one end. A faint jingle filled the air-so low, Irma had to lean in to hear it-as the train lurched around the track. It traveled around the globe once then stopped, the music halting with it.
“How was your trip?” Lucinda asked from her perch in the doorway. “I made lunch if you’re hungry.”
“About as expected.” Nana sighed. “Lunch would be great.”
She set the toy on the floor, and Irma reached for it, eyes aglow.
“Be careful, Irma. It’s fragile, and I don’t want you cutting yourself.” Nana glanced apologetically at Lucinda. “I realize it’s not the best gift for a child. I was going to give her money to get what she wanted, but I ran into this little old man at the station. The poor thing was so thin and dirty, I felt sorry for him…” Her voice trailed off as she and Irma’s mother disappeared down the hallway.
Be careful, Nana had warned.
But Irma never listened.
She grabbed the globe with both hands and tilted it back and forth, hoping she could force it to produce snow.
Nothing.
Irma twisted the crank as hard and as fast as she could. This gift would do something more than just drift around a stupid track. She’d make sure of it. She didn’t care what Nana said.
The smell of smoke filled the air. Irma crinkled her nose, and her hands turned bright red from the heat. She dropped the globe as the train careened wildly along its tracks. Smoke billowed in the enclosed airspace, and Irma flopped to the floor, watching as steam coated the train’s windows.
A tiny smudge formed in the first row of windows and expanded to a vertical line as what appeared to be a finger wiped away the fog.
Irma leaned in.
An eyeball popped into view, and Irma froze. One by one, more smudged lines appeared until the windows were clear and she could see movement inside the train car.
There were people inside!
Irma knew she should call for help, but she was too mesmerized. Who was inside, and why?
The train neared its station, the momentum of the last crank wearing off. It came to a halt, and Irma noted a dark figure making its way down the aisle.
What would happen if…?
Irma couldn’t even finish her thought. She had to know.
She cranked harder and faster. The music ramped up, cheerily belting its only tune over the din of screams that filled the living room. She reached for the handle once more.
“Irma, no!” Nana’s plate crashed to the floor as she and Lucinda rushed in.
But Irma couldn’t resist. She cranked harder. The train picked up speed as it rounded the curve. Around and around, it went, until…
Irma frantically scooted backward. What had she done?
The train crashed through the glass barrier, its headlights barreling toward her. A stinging heat slapped her in the face, and her mom’s screams filled the air.
With a puff of smoke, Irma was gone.
The figures she had just stared at from the comfort of her living room – a group of kids about her age – scrambled to touch her, yanking on her hair and tugging at her clothes. Irma fought them off as their refrain, “You’re one of us now,” rang in her ears.
A disheveled old man made his way to her, rubbing his hands in glee. “Welcome, my child.” He sized her up, a ghoulish grin overtaking him. “I knew when I spoke to your Nana about you, she would deliver.”
Irma screamed as his fiery essence consumed her.
She should have heeded her Nana’s warnings. She should have listened.
And now it was too late.
