Muffled toddler train imitations float down from above. As I climb the stairs it seems the train is gaining speed.
“CHOO-CHOO!”
The train and I arrive in the room at the exact same moment.
There he is, pudgy hands gripping his Thomas the train. The faint smell of kimchee lingers. We study each other carefully. This is the moment everything changes.
This is the first time I discover I have a brother. As I stand in his room, I feel like Alice in Wonderland and contemplate the rabbit hole that brings me here.
My mind wanders through both the minor and monumental circumstances that bring me to this unexpected moment.
“All aboard!”
October 8, 2005, was all about speed and time. I rose early for my last day of standardized testing. Bubbles were blackened. The minutes flew by. We put down our pencils. Instantly the clock seemed to slow to a crawl. The proctor slowly counted each and every test before releasing us; then I was at the fundraising car wash for the school band where students scrubbed away; a lengthy discussion of the band Queen; a pointless price check at Target; last moments, final memories.
“Next Stop!”
My senses were not hindered in any way, yet my car flew in the air and flipped three times before landing upside down. Time stopped. Suddenly the clock that ran my entire life no longer existed. There was no place to be, no task to be done; there was only a coma and brain trauma.
This is where the train came off the tracks and I entered that hole in Alice’s Wonderland. As I came out of the trauma of the accident, time started ticking slowly again and the train readied itself to leave the station, but this time, its schedule and destination were less clear.
“Choo–choo”
If the item at Target was priced correctly or the SAT proctor had collected the tests faster, would I have gotten into my accident? If it were not for the coma that brought my father to see me for the first time in five years, would I be standing in this room? Would I ever have the chance to know my little brother? These questions arise and will never have answers. The only clear thing is this: for all that was lost, something truly amazing was gained.
The journey to this new station has been remarkable. As I watch my brother push his Thomas along the tracks, I know that this is not the end of the line, but one of the miraculous stops on an adventure that is just beginning. If this is high school I cannot fathom the possibilities that college holds in store for me.
“Chugga–chugga ……
