Stories That Got Us In: “Quit” by Angela Alvarez

A blur of cotton candy pink danced across the train against a soundtrack of screams as the bags flew. Tutus and pointe shoes scattered the floor. That’s what Ella registered first, the flying tutus. Then she heard the screams. Then she saw the gash on her arm dripping blood. Then she felt the pain. It radiated throughout her body, immobilizing her mind.

“Ladies, let's try to calm down,” Ms. Pickross attempted to instruct, always in teaching mode. No one would listen. Or maybe they couldn't; Ella wasn’t sure. Her arm throbbed, keeping pace with the pounding in her chest. She focused on her breath, attempting to return to an even in and out. She had heard somewhere that focusing on your breathing would relax you. It was a fruitless endeavor.

She looked out the small window and took in the peaceful scene before them. The mix of dark green and brown vegetation almost calmed her. Almost. She noticed a deer feasting on a small patch of grass. It looked up at her, his ears turning out. Help us! Ella wanted to scream at him. But somehow, he was completely oblivious to the chaos only feet away from him. To the screams. To the panic. The train had crashed, with what Ella wasn’t sure. She couldn't even move. Her arm was pinned down by the railing that had dislodged from her chair. Looking at it again her brain finally caught up with her body and she registered the faces of her sobbing friends.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in Caroline’s ear, attempting a side hug with her good arm. She willed herself to believe that empty promise. Caroline’s bone-chilling shrieks didn’t pause. They only grew louder when she took in the sight of Ella’s arm. Ella turned away, giving up on comforting anyone.

It was hard to believe just ten minutes earlier Caroline was fighting with Jo over their duet. Just ten minutes earlier all Ella wanted more than anything was for Caroline to shut up. Just ten minutes earlier they were normal girls on the way to their dance competition overcrowded on a small train and stressed about their hair. Just ten minutes earlier felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Do you ladies need any help?” A gruff man asked, approaching their cohort from the other end of the train, jolting Ella back into the unfortunate present. He was wearing a red flannel shirt and, if Ella had to guess, it looked like he hadn’t shaved in at least a week. She couldn't help but notice an eerie similarity between him and her favorite teddy bear. That put her at ease, slightly.

“I- I don’t know,” Ella replied. Her mind was spinning, and a slight headache had begun to form.

“I think it might be a good idea to try and at least clean that up,” He said, gesturing to Ella’s arm. She glanced down and nodded. She felt nauseous looking at the gaping wound and quickly returned her gaze upwards to the kind stranger.

“I’m Tommy by the way,” he said as he wet a napkin with his half empty water bottle before applying it to Ella’s wound.

“I’m Ella.”

“Y’all dancers?”

“Yes,” she said, grimacing from the pain of the pressure.

“What kind?” Tommy wasn’t usually one for words. This feeble attempt to distract a stranger was the best he could muster.

“We are ballerinas, I thought the scattered tutus would've tipped everyone off. We’re actually on the way to a dance competition in Uptown now.” Each labored breath made her speech harder. She shuttered from the effort.

“What can I say I’m no dance connoisseur,” He was no doctor either, but he was getting actively concerned about how much blood Ella was losing. Tommy began to rip off the bottom of his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage, hoping it would help somehow. Ella looked like she needed all the help she could get.

“Well what do you do?” She barely managed to get out.

“I’m an archaeologist. I’m actually on this train to go to a new site over in Uptown.” Ella’s eyes began fluttering. There was no denying it now, she was scared. The faces before her were beginning to blur. She knew that wasn’t a good sign.

“How's it going over here?” Ms. Pickross asked, finally making her way to Ella who was stuck on the edge of the group of dancers.

“I’m, I’m- f-fine,” Ella stuttered.

Ms. Pickross shared a concerned look with Tommy. “Are you a doctor?” She asked him in whispered tones trying not to frighten Ella.

“No ma'am, I’m an archaeologist but I’m doing the best I can here.”

“Okay, I appreciate your help sir.”

“She’s going to need medical attention, do you know how long we are going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere?” He asked, his concern growing with each passing minute.

“I-I don’t know, someone is on the phone with 911 now, I’ll go see what I can find out. I can’t thank you enough sir.”

“Of course, I just wish I could do more.”

Ella’s eyes closed.

“Ella please stay with us,” Tommy pleaded with her, shaking her awake again.

All she could focus on was the pain. It had evolved from a fiery sensation to a numbing one. Suddenly her parents' faces flashed before her eyes. Her dad never wanted her to dance in the first place, thought it was a waste of time and money. But once he saw her take over the stage during her first solo, he never complained about it again. He said she danced the way the tides flow, with a sudden rush and then hints of mystery twinkled in. Her mom danced all throughout her own childhood. She said she could never have become as good as Ella. They both agreed Ella was born to dance. What would they say if they saw her now?

She closed her eyes again.

Tommy shook her awake again with more force, terrified that a moment would come when she would not reopen her eyes.

“Do you want to know a secret?” He asked.

She nodded her head ever so slightly.

“I have another job, but I don’t tell anyone about it. I also perform as a professional juggler. Isn’t that fascinating?” Tommy never tells people that. Never. But he didn’t know what else to do. Ella’s eyes widened. At least she could still comprehend what was going on, Tommy thought.

“Can I trust you to keep my secret?” Tommy asked, desperately trying to keep her engaged.

“Y-yes,” Ella whispered, barely audibly, as she watched Tommy’s eyes slowly morph into what looked like buttons. Her teddy bear was a juggler too…

“Don’t quit on me Ella.”

Quit. What a funny word, Ella thought. She knew she was never supposed to quit. When a subject at school is too hard, she shouldn't quit. She shouldn't quit when choreography gets too complex. She shouldn’t quit when she feels on the outs with her friends. And she never did. She is not a quitter. She told herself not to quit today either. But she couldn't help it. Her eyes were too heavy. She thought it was strange that she never noticed how heavy her eyes were before. Suddenly, her world darkened, and the pain disappeared.

“No, it has to be a lighter shade of pink,” Mrs. Fantasia insisted as the shop owner rolled her eyes.

“I’ll check the back again.”

Mrs. Fantasia sighed, her daughter needed the right costume for the competition tonight and she was already on the outs with the dance teacher for waiting until the last minute to find it. Ring Ring Ring. She pulled the phone out of her purse and picked up an unfamiliar number.

“Ma'am this is Ms. Pickross, the head of school at Uptown Elementary. I am calling to inform you of an unfortunate incident today. Your daughter, Ella, fell off the toy train at recess on the playground and it ended up collapsing on top of her. Her teddy bear cushioned the blow to her head but she badly cut up her arm. She actually passed out before her friends Caroline and Jo were able to bring the teacher over. She is in an ambulance on the way to the Uptown hospital right now.”

The store turned into a blur of cotton candy pink before Mrs. Fantasia’s watering eyes as she took in the news.

“I’m on my way.”

Please don’t quit, Ella, she slightly prayed.