Time on my hands...

I had some free time on my hands so I wrote this. I know it's lengthy, but take the time to read it. I consider it some of my best work. The idea isn't original, but my writing is.


Jacques was a simple man. A man who had loved a woman so deeply that when she became terminally ill, all he wanted to do was lie beside her and take her place. Instead, he vowed to protect, raise, and love their only son, Chandler, to the fullest extent. He was a superbial father -- bike riding on Saturdays, pancakes on Sunday mornings, bedtime stories turned into legendary tales, and brushing their teeth no longer seemed like a tiring habit. You see, Jacques put all of his devotion and time into his son. From the outside, one could see that raising his son was almost a therapy for dealing with the loss of his one and only true love -- his wife. The only other passion he ever felt was for his work. Jacques worked as the bridge conductor for the railroad near the county bridge. When a boat needed passing through, it was Jacques' responsibility to clear the bridge. When a train needed tracks to race through, Jacques was at full service. Jacques found peace and serenity knowing that he was in charge of saving people's lives. If it weren't for him, he'd think, then there would be thousands and thousands of wrecks and fatalities.

Sara Billows, a brown haired, light-skinned woman, grabbed the train ticket from her dresser along with a bottle of pills and a tiny clear plastic bag with a white powdery substance inside. She had hoped that one day she could drop her drug addiction, but every time she tried to escape, it only dragged her deeper into it's dangerous and addicting web. As she stepped into the hallway of her small, dirt-filled apartment, she wondered whether that blunt of a husband would chase after her, only to beat her once more until she would agree to continue buying and selling drugs for him. "He won't follow me, " she thought, "Not this time."

It was a particularly cold morning when Jacques stepped outside for the morning paper. Inside was his son eating away at soggy corn flakes, swinging his feet off the chair and singing the newest song he had learned in his first grade class. "Father, may I go to work with you today?" Jacques turned to his son, smiling softly, "You do know that is the 5th time you've asked me that, don't you?" His son grabbed his father's arm and planted himself into his lap. "And I know that this time you'll say yes," his son replied. With a tiny laugh, Jacques hugged his son, and knowing that his answer would make Chandler's week, whispered a yes into his ears.

It was a long walk inside the train station for Chandler. Eventually, Jacques would have to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way to the control station for the bridge. Walking past the 7am train, there were so many different kinds of people preparing for the train ride. People rushing onto the train, some with children, others without. There were couples canoodling outside the train doors, and couples barely even walking next to each other as they took their seats. Some would arrive in their seats feeling lost, angry, jealous, selfish, or hurt, all going about their own lives. But it was Sara who caught the eye of Chandler in the arms of his father. There were many times when she had asked her husband for a child, but seeing as he was only using her for drug money, a child wasn't ever in the playbook for him. She always thought that having a child would have been a redemption for her. That only the love for her own child would bring her to escape the wretched life of a drug addict. All of these feelings happened in a moment as Sara and Chandler caught each others eyes. Looking back, Jacques noticed the woman Chandler was staring at. Moving his head in the opposite direction, the moment shared between the two was vanished.

There was a tiny clearing near the edge of the pond, and Chandler was becoming restless in that tiny control room. He had already learned all about how the buttons worked and was even shown how the chains suspended the bridge to prepare for boats to pass through. It was a marvelous sight to see! However, as all 8 year olds get, Chandler needed more. "Father, I see a clearing near the edge of the river, may I skip rocks for a bit?" Agreeing, Jacques also mentioned that Chandler was to stay in that one area only.

As the last morning boat passed through under the suspended bridge, Jacques felt it was almost lunch time. "Chandler, let's have lunch," Jacques called out, but it was never heard. The sound of the train horn from afar sent Jacques running to the control station. He didn't even notice Chandler's jacket hanging near the chains for the bridge operations. Once inside the operation room, however, the view through the window sent him screaming from inside out. He saw Chandler's jacket near the bridge chains. Then it hit him. If he didn't press the control button to lower the bridge, the train would wreck and hundreds of people would die. Yet, if he did lower the bridge, the chains would set in motion, grab his son, and crush his tiny body, killing him in a brutal and shameful way. It was the single most challenging decision to ever have been made, and all within seconds.

As Jacques pressed the button to lower the bridge, he immediately ran outside of the control room hoping to save his son, but it was too late. The chains had crushed and killed him. The rescued train passed by, but not without Jacques at its side screaming and wailing in anger and sadness. Sobbing and wheeping, screams of pain and anger all rushed out of Jacques' body. Every part of him wanted to take back what he had just done -- killing his one and only son. Men should be killed themselves for committing such acts. It was the fact that no one inside the train was able to understand his pain that angered him the most. Because inside the train were people sitting there. Som with children and some without. There were couples cuddling together in their seats and some couples facing opposite directions. People who were lost, jealous, angry, or hurt. But it was only Sara who had looked outside the train window at that very moment.

Recognizing him from earlier that morning, she saw him standing there sobbing, crying out "my son! my son! my son!" There was something about the way he was acting that touched Sara's heart. Even though she couldn't hear a single word or cry from him, it was as if she could feel his pain and anger. In her heart, she knew he had just suffered from a great and terrible loss -- at her expense. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she dropped the pills and powder from her hands down into the sink.

.......

Several years had passed since that moment. Jacques had moved to a new town, had a new job, but still empty from that terrible day. The pain never left him. There was always that one toy or one child who reminded him of Chandler, and the pain would re-surface once again. Every morning, Jacques would eat at the local pancake cafe in memory of his son. Sitting at the corner booth next to the windows, a brown haired, light skinned woman walked through the cafe doors with a toddler boy in her arms. "It was her. The woman at the train station, the woman in the train window from that day," Jacques thought. As she sat in the booth next to his, they caught eyes and she immediately knew, "It's him," she thought. Shyly, she sat in the bench across the table from Jacques with her son playing with his toys and sitting next to her. She softly smiled.

After a moment of tear filled eyes from both of them, she spoke softly, "Your son's life saved mine. I'll never forget that day." With a tremble and quiver in her voice she continued, "It was your son who redeemed me from the pit. He is my angel." Swallowing back his tears, Jacques smiled back at the woman.... and grabbed her hand.