🚆 Grandma's train
Part 2 : At the train station
⚠️ This is a work of fiction
⚠️ Reproduction and distribution prohibited
We have about an hour and a half drive to get to the station, and as we drive, we talk with mom. She tries to reassure me, tells me that everything will be fine, but I am still a little worried. The closer we get, the more I feel the stress building up. I try not to show it to mom because I don't want to worry her in her condition, but inside, I am not feeling very brave.
"The train leaves at 7:17," mom signs to me while driving.
"Will we be on time?" I sign back to her.
"Yes, I have given us an extra margin and there's not much traffic, it should be fine. Once we get to the station, we'll have to wait in line for ticket control."
"How long does the train journey last again?"
"About three hours."
Luckily, I brought a bag with things to keep me occupied, because three hours is a long time! I try to fall back asleep a bit in the car, but I can't. It's very early and I didn't sleep much last night. Despite being 9 years old and trying to act grown-up, being alone with strangers scares me. I imagine my disability plays a role in that. I have often struggled to communicate with hearing people, unable to understand each other, and it wasn't cool. Not long ago, a child even called me stupid. I know because I could read it on his lips.
"Everything will be fine," mom says, as if reading my mind.
"I know," I say without really believing it.
The end of the journey is near and it starts to rain. Mom, who is driving carefully, pays even more attention as the rain intensifies. When we get near the station, we look for parking, and mom drives into a spot as soon as we spot one. Once the car is parked, I check the time on my phone and see that the train leaves in less than 30 minutes.
My suitcase is out of the trunk and I have my small backpack on my shoulder. The adventure is about to begin and I can feel the stress increasing. Once we leave the parking, we are fortunately sheltered until we reach the inside of the station since it's still raining.
Around us, many people are walking in the same direction. Between mom, who is pregnant and signs to me, and me responding in the same way, we do not go unnoticed. I'm used to being looked at because it intrigues people, this language. I know, from discussing with many people, that it's a bit mysterious. People have told me that it must be great to be able to communicate like this, calmly, and especially without being understood by others.
A few years ago, a movie was released in theaters: "The Bélier Family." It was about a deaf family. It caused a buzz in theaters and was quite beneficial within the deaf community, as it made people understand that we are just like others, that if we can't hear, we are not mentally disabled. Being looked at, I'm used to it, and it doesn't bother me.
We now enter the station and many people are already there, waiting. I know this station, I have been here with mom before. The last time, it must have been a year or two ago, and our platform was right in front, or rather underneath. I have a feeling it will be the same today. Mom moves closer. I follow her. The platform for our train is indeed this one. We wait a few minutes after joining the line and I take the opportunity to observe the people.
There are more and more people, but I notice that there are mainly families with children. It's the holidays, it's quite normal. There are very young children in strollers but also kids of all ages. Some seem to be around my age. I find it reassuring, I won't be all alone with adults. Actually, behind me, there is a boy with his little sister and parents. He's about my age, and it would be cool if I could travel with him.
The line starts moving to pass through the ticket controls. It goes fairly quickly, and we present ourselves to the ticket controller.
"Hello sir," mom says. "I'm bringing my son to the train but I'm not getting on. Is it possible for me to accompany him to his seat?"
"Hello," he replies. "Normally no, but go ahead. Just be very careful to get off the train on time though."
"I will make sure of it, thank you very much."
Phew, that was one of my fears, that mom wouldn't be able to come with me to the train. Mom was probably a little stressed too but didn't show it. I had not noticed it at the time, but my heart started beating faster. I can feel it slowing down now.
Mom pulls my suitcase while I carry my backpack. We now descend an escalator and arrive on the platform where the train is already there.
"Follow me," mom says after finding out the direction we need to walk on the platform to find my wagon.
There are a lot of people on this platform. So we start walking and even squeezing between people who are not all going in the same direction. The wagon numbers pass by: 4, 5, and then 6, mine.
"Here it is," mom announces, waiting for other passengers to board before us.
She looks stressed. It doesn't help me to calm down, I even start to need to use the restroom. And maybe even needing to poop because my stomach hurts a little. I am just minutes away from leaving mom, being alone on this train, for the next three hours.
It's our turn to board the train. The deadline is really close now.
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