So a few days ago, I had to fly to San Francisco for a conference. I’m from a fairly large city, and I don’t have a car. Unfortunately, that means I - like most people, am stuck with taking public transit. This wouldn’t be a problem, except for the problem that since the city isn’t as big as New York, or Chicago, the trains are sometimes infrequent, especially in the early morning. My flight was fairly early, so I was worried about taking the train, but I didn’t want to shell out money for an Uber, so I decided to go for it.
I arrived at the station at 4:50 AM because Maps told me the train would be arriving at 5 AM. I had never seen the train station so empty. Besides me, I could count maybe a few other people. A college-aged girl, a mom and her child, and a businessman.
5AM passed. Then 5:01, 5:03, 5:08, and 5:12. I started panicking. I was already cutting it close to my arrival at the airport, and if I didn’t get on the train soon, I would miss my flight.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the lights from the train at the end of the tunnel. I checked my watch, which read 5:13. Well, better late than never.
The train came to a stop. Weirdly, only the doors to one car opened. Huh. Maybe it was because it was so early in the morning? Like they were trying to conserve energy or something. Since we had no other option, all of us at the platform entered the car and sat down. I was feeling a bit better about making my flight on time because I had finally gotten on the train. There were about six stops before the airport, so I could sit back and relax for a bit.
About 40 minutes had passed, and we had left the last stop before the airport. We entered another dark tunnel when the train lurched to a stop. Just my luck, of course we’d stop right before we got to the airport.
“Hey folks, we’re going to be adding a couple extra stops before the airport today. It shouldn’t cause too much of a delay, so please be patient. If you want my advice, I would stay on the train no matter what.”
As soon as the train operator stopped speaking, there was just silence in the car. Everyone on the train looked extremely confused. We were still in that dark tunnel when the doors suddenly opened. Not a single person had gotten on the train car at any other stop. But at this stop, almost 20 people—men, women, and children—entered the train car in a single file line. Now, the almost empty car of before was now uncomfortably full.
The doors snapped shut, and we were moving again. The second we were in motion, 20 sets of eyes were on me, and that wasn’t all. The strange group of people that had just gotten on the train—the pack of them—had this identical smile on their faces. I felt extremely uneasy under their smiles, which were directed only at me. Then, like a switch, everyone shifted their gaze and smiled at the businessman on the train. There was a pause for a couple seconds, and then they turned and smiled at the mom and her child. Then, the college girl. It was like they were on a timer, because then they turned back to me. All 20 people were looking at me with that plastered smile on their faces. I felt sick to my stomach. There was something extremely wrong with these people.
The train stopped again, at another station I had never seen before. It was above ground, with lush greenery and the sun shining brightly. Something called to me, and I made a move to get up, partly wanting to get away from the smiling people and partly because it just looked like peace. But somewhere in my mind, I remember the train operator’s warning that I didn’t understand earlier.
Stay on the train no matter what
Then, as quickly as I had the urge to get off the train, I sat back down. The train doors opened slowly, and the college girl from earlier quickly made her way onto the platform with a queasy look on her face. I made a move to stop her, but it was too late. She had already gotten off the train.
I could see her on the platform, facing the opposite direction from me. She slowly turned around, and my heart stopped—because she stared at me with a smile that was all too familiar.
Like they were lifted from a spell, the smiling people got off the train in a single file line, and they all lined up on the platform in a neat line with the college girl smack dab in the middle. The train doors closed again, and we were moving, but from the window, I could see everyone on the platform with that same sick smile, waving at us in unison.
It was about a minute or two before the train stopped again, but this time it was at the airport. The rest of us on the train looked at each other uneasily but slowly exited the train. The platform this time was packed with busy travelers looking to get home. The mom and her child left without a word. But the businessman and I made eye contact as we stood on the platform. We shared a look that conveyed that this strange train ride did indeed happen before we both parted ways.
I’m still in San Francisco right now, but when I think back to the smiling people on the train, I’m still met with an unending sense of dread. But I’m extremely thankful that I listened to the train operator and stayed on the train. I do know one thing for sure: I need to buy a fucking car.
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