Just sharing a story I wrote a while back. It's one of my personal favourites.
Spoiler
Standing on the cold station platform, tapping my foot as often as seemed possible, I awaited my train. Or, as I liked to think, my gateway to either heaven or hell.
I wasn’t quite sure which, yet.
“Please stand well back from the platform edge.”
Ah well. At least that monotonous synthetic voice from the tannoy was there to comfort me. Or…do whatever it does.
Hopefully this is the right train. I’d rather not start off this whole journey by going in the wrong direction. The steel ‘portal’, as I decided to call it, ground to a halt. I took a deep breath of cold winter air, gripped my luggage as tightly as possible, and prepared to go through the door. I still wasn’t too sure where I wound end up. After what seemed like an eternity, the door clanked open. With a sudden rush of excitement, I leaped into the train, as if it were a real ‘portal’.
To say the interior that greeted me was disappointing would be an understatement. It was rather old-fashioned, with leather seating areas and an old, dusty carpet. Had I stepped into an abandoned church by mistake? Only one other person, an older, stuffy-looking gentleman was in my carriage. Accompanying him was an even stuffier looking briefcase. Sitting down, opposite him (it would be rude not to), I shifted my bag onto the seat beside me. I was about to open it up to grab a book, before I was swiftly interrupted.
“You travelling far, missy?”
“Oh”, I replied, fixing my face into a smile, like a grin carved into the wood of a puppet. “Um…Osberg.”
He seemed harmless enough, but that didn’t stop my inhibitions from setting in. “Why did you sit down over here!? Why is he talking to me? Why!?”
“I see”, he replied. “I know the place well. And what are you going to do there?”
Oh golly! Did this guy want my entire life story?
No, he just wants to chat, stupid. So chat.
“Um…interview…” I murmured, with many thoughts circling around.
The stern look on his face had dropped, as if he knew how I was feeling.
“Ah. This a big thing, then?” His tone had also softened up, as if he were trying to act as my grandad or something.
“I guess so. I’ve done one or two before, but those were just for temporary jobs.”
The tannoy started blaring again, recounting all the different stops. I counted five more before mine.
“So I…well I, didn’t really…care as much.”
A small frown appeared on his face.
“I see.”
Maybe he was done talking now and I could get to my book? I was really looking forward to finding out what happened to the…
“What jobs were these?”
…Nope. With a quick left turn, I was back on conversation street – a dark, cramped up alleyway that I really didn’t want to be on. But it was only polite to answer. I decided to continue my trek through it, content that he would soon enough run out of questions.
“Oh, just odd jobs. Waitress in a café, some volunteer work. Nothing too interesting.”
“Well, surely, interest is rather subjective, isn’t it? Tell me about your volunteer work.”
This was beginning to feel like the interview before the interview.
“It was in a library at my hometown. They were running short of people, so I offered to do some shifts. They insisted on interviewing me as a formality.”
The librarian was too old and traditional to ignore the process, but he didn’t need to know that.
“How curious,” the man replied, somehow captivated by my very ordinary life. “How did you find it?”
“I liked it!” I replied, for once not having to force my smile. “There weren’t too many customers, so I spent most of my time reading books. I must have gotten through at least four different series while I worked there!”
I quickly realised that this implied I enjoyed the not-working parts.
“B…but,” I hesitated. “This did mean I could recommend books to the customers who did show up! And who wants to go to a library where the staff hate books?”
He gave a wry smile.
“I’m sure nobody would!”
I was about to go into detail about all the different books I loved to read, and gush about the plots, the main characters and their crazy twist endings, when something stopped me. I noticed a book, put to one side, on the seat next to the man. It was written in some foreign language – I wasn’t sure which. But it had certainly caught my interest a bit more than the man himself had earlier.
“W…what book is that?” I stumbled out the words, a bit nervous to ask a question of my own.
“Oh, this one? It’s a German book on various species of monkey. I have a passing interest in primatology.” He turned the book to a specific page, and showed it to me.
“This is Saimiri sciureus, a common squirrel monkey. June, my wife, is currently nursing one back to health, after we rescued it from a pound.”
“Wow!”
I kept my next question as basic as possible, because I didn’t need another barrage of information.
“They’re so cute! What’s its name?”
“He’s called Samson. He’s very friendly, but obviously, we can’t keep him for too much longer. We’re hoping to donate him to the local zoo as soon as possible, but they don’t have anyone trained as well as my wife.”
“Oh, is she a vet then?”
“Indeed. She used to work at Osberg Wildlife Park, before she retired. We’ve raised a few abandoned creatures back to health since then. It’s become rather a hobby of hers.”
Now that actually did sound quite fun. If only she was sitting there too, so I could ask her all about the animals she’d looked after.
“Do you have any hobbies of your own?”
I mean, I did, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to say.
“Will you promise not to laugh?” I said, picking up my book to cover my face for a moment.
“Of course,” he replied.
“I make marionettes. I used to get the wooden parts from our local carpenter, and dress them up to look nice. They were like my imaginary friends. But...they’re probably not that great.”
“I’m sure they’re perfectly fine,” he smiled. “Don’t down them just yet.”
The conversation continued along these lines. He had once been mistaken for a pirate. Him and his wife had saved a toucan, a few months back. And of course, he had a million and one questions about my boring and normal life. Eventually, we were again rudely interrupted by the tannoy announcing that the train was pulling into Osberg Station.
“This is my stop,” I said, smiling at the old man. “Thank you for the chat, though.”
I stood up and was about to wave him goodbye.
“Oh, this also happens to be my stop”. He remained seated for the time being. “I’m heading off to work, via a little detour, but if you tell me the name of the building you’re looking for, I can give you some rough directions.”
“Oh…” I mumbled. It took me a moment to process his offer.
“Um…it’s called the ‘BIO’ building.” My speech slowed as I saw him struggle to get up, reaching out for his cane and his briefcase.
“I think…that’s an acronym,” I said, standing like a citrus fruit, but not a lemon. I wanted to help, but I was glued into position. Let’s not get in the way, shall we?
“Oh, the Broughton Investigative Offices?” he said, completely unfased. “Yes, I believe it’s a ten-minute walk from the station. Go out of the main exit and head down Juniper Lane. It should be the last building on the left, before you reach the intersection.”
The train ground to a halt, the tannoy continued telling us what we already knew, and we got off. I made sure to let him get off first. ‘Always respect your elders’ and all that.
“Thank you so much. And…thanks again for the chat. It was really nice.”
“My pleasure,” he smiled, and shook my hand. I winced. Even so, I smiled another real smile, as he went off into a convenience store, perhaps in search of a morning paper and a cup of Earl Grey.
A quick glance at my watch told me I had twenty-five minutes to find the building. Now, the directions. I just had to look out for Juniper Lane. What a curious name. And then, as I walked out of the station and into the chilly, windswept town, it hit me.
“I didn’t ask for his name!” I exclaimed, out loud, catching the attention of a lady who was walking behind me. She gave me a confused look, and then continued on her merry way. How embarrassing.
I suppose he didn’t ask for mine, though. And I didn’t really need it, after all. Even if my sub-conscious was begging for it. I had to press on. With my scarf wrapped extra tightly around my neck, I trudged along, to avoid slipping on the icy path. A few quick glances at my watch later, I was there. The building was hard to miss – the letters ‘BIO’ formed a large black logo at the front of the entrance. Not very inviting. I walked through the double doors, and arrived at reception.
“Hello there, miss, how can I help you?” the receptionist smiled.
“Um...I have something to hand in.”
I reached into my bag, ruffling the papers it contained until I pulled out the letter that detailed my interview. She gave it a quick glance, returned it and instructed me to wait on one of the nearby chairs. Apparently Mr. Frischling hadn’t yet returned from a business trip, but he was due back any minute.I scurried away as quickly as possible, and sat down on one of the hard, wooden chairs. I got out my book that I had meant to finish on the train. Maybe I could replace the nerves of my imminent interview by worrying about what was going to happen to Arla’s little boy? She was just a few miles away from home, carrying the healing water from the enchanted spring, when the real world called me back in.
“Well now, isn’t this a capital reunion?”
That voice sounded oddly…familiar. Turning my head, I saw the very same gentleman whom I had been talking to for so long on the train journey up.“Good day, miss. I believe you are my interviewee. I am Andi Frischling. And who might you be?”
The words weren’t coming out just yet. It hadn’t quite set in. Come on, just your name. Breathe, and get the words out.
“Burgundy. My name is Burgundy. I…hope you like it.”
What a silly thing to say! Was I going to just spout nonsense now? Had I used up all my words on the train?
“Oh, don’t worry, I know. I must say, I had thought that it was you when you mentioned Osberg and an interview. I’m glad to know my intuition was right.”
“B…b….but why didn’t you say something?” I asked, perhaps a little rudely, and covering my mouth afterwards.
“You seemed a bit nervous. I figured it best to get the interview out of the way.”
“So…I’m done then?” I asked, still very confused.
“Well, you are welcome to go and find your accommodation for the night and prepare for your second interview tomorrow, with Miss Bunn. However, if you’d like to, I can show you around the building, and introduce you to some of the staff members.”
“Oh…um…of course!” All this information wasn’t really going in, but it didn’t matter right now.
“Good! And don’t worry too much about tomorrow. It’s more just a couple of standard tests. Nobody who applies for secretary fails the second stage.”
Well, that at least put my mind at rest. As he lead me towards the office, I couldn’t help but think how awkward this could have been if I hadn’t sat next to him. Or if he hadn’t talked to me. Or if I had stopped replying. Gosh! Thinking back though, there wasn’t a voice in the world I’d have rather heard. He wasn’t half as stuffy as I’d first thought, and he handled the whole situation very well. And…maybe now I’d get to meet Samson. That would be nice. I’d like to at least give him a cuddle.
I wasn’t quite sure which, yet.
“Please stand well back from the platform edge.”
Ah well. At least that monotonous synthetic voice from the tannoy was there to comfort me. Or…do whatever it does.
Hopefully this is the right train. I’d rather not start off this whole journey by going in the wrong direction. The steel ‘portal’, as I decided to call it, ground to a halt. I took a deep breath of cold winter air, gripped my luggage as tightly as possible, and prepared to go through the door. I still wasn’t too sure where I wound end up. After what seemed like an eternity, the door clanked open. With a sudden rush of excitement, I leaped into the train, as if it were a real ‘portal’.
To say the interior that greeted me was disappointing would be an understatement. It was rather old-fashioned, with leather seating areas and an old, dusty carpet. Had I stepped into an abandoned church by mistake? Only one other person, an older, stuffy-looking gentleman was in my carriage. Accompanying him was an even stuffier looking briefcase. Sitting down, opposite him (it would be rude not to), I shifted my bag onto the seat beside me. I was about to open it up to grab a book, before I was swiftly interrupted.
“You travelling far, missy?”
“Oh”, I replied, fixing my face into a smile, like a grin carved into the wood of a puppet. “Um…Osberg.”
He seemed harmless enough, but that didn’t stop my inhibitions from setting in. “Why did you sit down over here!? Why is he talking to me? Why!?”
“I see”, he replied. “I know the place well. And what are you going to do there?”
Oh golly! Did this guy want my entire life story?
No, he just wants to chat, stupid. So chat.
“Um…interview…” I murmured, with many thoughts circling around.
The stern look on his face had dropped, as if he knew how I was feeling.
“Ah. This a big thing, then?” His tone had also softened up, as if he were trying to act as my grandad or something.
“I guess so. I’ve done one or two before, but those were just for temporary jobs.”
The tannoy started blaring again, recounting all the different stops. I counted five more before mine.
“So I…well I, didn’t really…care as much.”
A small frown appeared on his face.
“I see.”
Maybe he was done talking now and I could get to my book? I was really looking forward to finding out what happened to the…
“What jobs were these?”
…Nope. With a quick left turn, I was back on conversation street – a dark, cramped up alleyway that I really didn’t want to be on. But it was only polite to answer. I decided to continue my trek through it, content that he would soon enough run out of questions.
“Oh, just odd jobs. Waitress in a café, some volunteer work. Nothing too interesting.”
“Well, surely, interest is rather subjective, isn’t it? Tell me about your volunteer work.”
This was beginning to feel like the interview before the interview.
“It was in a library at my hometown. They were running short of people, so I offered to do some shifts. They insisted on interviewing me as a formality.”
The librarian was too old and traditional to ignore the process, but he didn’t need to know that.
“How curious,” the man replied, somehow captivated by my very ordinary life. “How did you find it?”
“I liked it!” I replied, for once not having to force my smile. “There weren’t too many customers, so I spent most of my time reading books. I must have gotten through at least four different series while I worked there!”
I quickly realised that this implied I enjoyed the not-working parts.
“B…but,” I hesitated. “This did mean I could recommend books to the customers who did show up! And who wants to go to a library where the staff hate books?”
He gave a wry smile.
“I’m sure nobody would!”
I was about to go into detail about all the different books I loved to read, and gush about the plots, the main characters and their crazy twist endings, when something stopped me. I noticed a book, put to one side, on the seat next to the man. It was written in some foreign language – I wasn’t sure which. But it had certainly caught my interest a bit more than the man himself had earlier.
“W…what book is that?” I stumbled out the words, a bit nervous to ask a question of my own.
“Oh, this one? It’s a German book on various species of monkey. I have a passing interest in primatology.” He turned the book to a specific page, and showed it to me.
“This is Saimiri sciureus, a common squirrel monkey. June, my wife, is currently nursing one back to health, after we rescued it from a pound.”
“Wow!”
I kept my next question as basic as possible, because I didn’t need another barrage of information.
“They’re so cute! What’s its name?”
“He’s called Samson. He’s very friendly, but obviously, we can’t keep him for too much longer. We’re hoping to donate him to the local zoo as soon as possible, but they don’t have anyone trained as well as my wife.”
“Oh, is she a vet then?”
“Indeed. She used to work at Osberg Wildlife Park, before she retired. We’ve raised a few abandoned creatures back to health since then. It’s become rather a hobby of hers.”
Now that actually did sound quite fun. If only she was sitting there too, so I could ask her all about the animals she’d looked after.
“Do you have any hobbies of your own?”
I mean, I did, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to say.
“Will you promise not to laugh?” I said, picking up my book to cover my face for a moment.
“Of course,” he replied.
“I make marionettes. I used to get the wooden parts from our local carpenter, and dress them up to look nice. They were like my imaginary friends. But...they’re probably not that great.”
“I’m sure they’re perfectly fine,” he smiled. “Don’t down them just yet.”
The conversation continued along these lines. He had once been mistaken for a pirate. Him and his wife had saved a toucan, a few months back. And of course, he had a million and one questions about my boring and normal life. Eventually, we were again rudely interrupted by the tannoy announcing that the train was pulling into Osberg Station.
“This is my stop,” I said, smiling at the old man. “Thank you for the chat, though.”
I stood up and was about to wave him goodbye.
“Oh, this also happens to be my stop”. He remained seated for the time being. “I’m heading off to work, via a little detour, but if you tell me the name of the building you’re looking for, I can give you some rough directions.”
“Oh…” I mumbled. It took me a moment to process his offer.
“Um…it’s called the ‘BIO’ building.” My speech slowed as I saw him struggle to get up, reaching out for his cane and his briefcase.
“I think…that’s an acronym,” I said, standing like a citrus fruit, but not a lemon. I wanted to help, but I was glued into position. Let’s not get in the way, shall we?
“Oh, the Broughton Investigative Offices?” he said, completely unfased. “Yes, I believe it’s a ten-minute walk from the station. Go out of the main exit and head down Juniper Lane. It should be the last building on the left, before you reach the intersection.”
The train ground to a halt, the tannoy continued telling us what we already knew, and we got off. I made sure to let him get off first. ‘Always respect your elders’ and all that.
“Thank you so much. And…thanks again for the chat. It was really nice.”
“My pleasure,” he smiled, and shook my hand. I winced. Even so, I smiled another real smile, as he went off into a convenience store, perhaps in search of a morning paper and a cup of Earl Grey.
A quick glance at my watch told me I had twenty-five minutes to find the building. Now, the directions. I just had to look out for Juniper Lane. What a curious name. And then, as I walked out of the station and into the chilly, windswept town, it hit me.
“I didn’t ask for his name!” I exclaimed, out loud, catching the attention of a lady who was walking behind me. She gave me a confused look, and then continued on her merry way. How embarrassing.
I suppose he didn’t ask for mine, though. And I didn’t really need it, after all. Even if my sub-conscious was begging for it. I had to press on. With my scarf wrapped extra tightly around my neck, I trudged along, to avoid slipping on the icy path. A few quick glances at my watch later, I was there. The building was hard to miss – the letters ‘BIO’ formed a large black logo at the front of the entrance. Not very inviting. I walked through the double doors, and arrived at reception.
“Hello there, miss, how can I help you?” the receptionist smiled.
“Um...I have something to hand in.”
I reached into my bag, ruffling the papers it contained until I pulled out the letter that detailed my interview. She gave it a quick glance, returned it and instructed me to wait on one of the nearby chairs. Apparently Mr. Frischling hadn’t yet returned from a business trip, but he was due back any minute.I scurried away as quickly as possible, and sat down on one of the hard, wooden chairs. I got out my book that I had meant to finish on the train. Maybe I could replace the nerves of my imminent interview by worrying about what was going to happen to Arla’s little boy? She was just a few miles away from home, carrying the healing water from the enchanted spring, when the real world called me back in.
“Well now, isn’t this a capital reunion?”
That voice sounded oddly…familiar. Turning my head, I saw the very same gentleman whom I had been talking to for so long on the train journey up.“Good day, miss. I believe you are my interviewee. I am Andi Frischling. And who might you be?”
The words weren’t coming out just yet. It hadn’t quite set in. Come on, just your name. Breathe, and get the words out.
“Burgundy. My name is Burgundy. I…hope you like it.”
What a silly thing to say! Was I going to just spout nonsense now? Had I used up all my words on the train?
“Oh, don’t worry, I know. I must say, I had thought that it was you when you mentioned Osberg and an interview. I’m glad to know my intuition was right.”
“B…b….but why didn’t you say something?” I asked, perhaps a little rudely, and covering my mouth afterwards.
“You seemed a bit nervous. I figured it best to get the interview out of the way.”
“So…I’m done then?” I asked, still very confused.
“Well, you are welcome to go and find your accommodation for the night and prepare for your second interview tomorrow, with Miss Bunn. However, if you’d like to, I can show you around the building, and introduce you to some of the staff members.”
“Oh…um…of course!” All this information wasn’t really going in, but it didn’t matter right now.
“Good! And don’t worry too much about tomorrow. It’s more just a couple of standard tests. Nobody who applies for secretary fails the second stage.”
Well, that at least put my mind at rest. As he lead me towards the office, I couldn’t help but think how awkward this could have been if I hadn’t sat next to him. Or if he hadn’t talked to me. Or if I had stopped replying. Gosh! Thinking back though, there wasn’t a voice in the world I’d have rather heard. He wasn’t half as stuffy as I’d first thought, and he handled the whole situation very well. And…maybe now I’d get to meet Samson. That would be nice. I’d like to at least give him a cuddle.
*many thanks to Oscar for the red panda avatar*
Quote:"Anybody who thinks this is a good idea deserves to be prodded repeatedly with my selfie stick" - CJ's impression of me
Quote