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Molly//Sally

A celebration of life and friends.


 

Chapter 1.

Train to Claire




 

We were visiting Nana, and Dadaí would meet us there.

 

On a separate train of course.

 

The cabin shaking from crashing cymbals and bullhorns departs, as the orange sky begrudgingly snored forward the windows lining our train. Dull, frozen greys of napping light, fell asleep through this neighbored glass. Where, sitting across Mamaí, everything in vision slept soundly beside us. A tightrope even I began to walk; as with one blink more than two, our windowed, dozy morning yawn instantly transformed to an afternoon blue. 

 

Spring pallets and trees covering the far horizon, running green grass along shrubbery trying to keep up, under clouds thin like cotton candy air we breathe on cold mornings. Yet, it wasn’t cold at all with my cheek indented on that window sill; a warm glow opposite of when I slept greeted me this time. Where morning’s drab orange ushered me wanting to sleep, this verdant oceanic nudged me awake. In similar fashion I could still hear those bullhorn and cymbal jazz bands even now, but rumbling very loudly. Placing my hand on my stomach I realized those instruments were coming from me, and I was hungry. Now, enticingly staring off to that countryside out, I started blinking to see if that would change it as well.





 

Sadly, and a little disappointed, it didn’t.



 

“Do you think we have any honey crackers left?” Molly asked, her mother shaking an empty crumbless bag into her mouth. “No, I don't believe we do!” she replied, setting the large bag down rapidly onto the cabin table that laid all their other stuff. In between Molly and Mother were two backpacks bulk, several packets with boxes and signatures, all dotted and lined with words like “Separation” and “Ash Hats” laid in place of the once-before-seen sweets. As Mother surprisingly made the table less heavier than before with this empty food bag, she too could hear stomach instruments; looking forward at Molly as she continuously blinked outside in a hungry rhythm of the loud jazz belly. 

 

“Alright here Molly, take this,” Mother said, holding a ten dollar bill up towards her daughter. Molly immediately grinned, snatching the payment out of her hands now focusing attention onto the thin paper. “Since we won't be landing in Claire for another couple hours,” Mother smirked, “Why don't you get something to eat up the first cabin, and go explore for a bit until night time?” At this point, Molly had already buttoned her turtle blouse standing outside the cabin frame. “But please, come back before dusk, and if you are in any trouble, ask for help.” Molly fastened her shoes as Mother lectured, and in the small minute pause, noticed with no silence, she quickly bolted up and out! Molly’s leather shoes slamming the blurred carpet floor, “Remember, if you need help, ask!” Her mother’s shouts follow behind her. This led for a second or two more after, soon enough leaving Molly to walk a subtle pace. Her stomach instruments grew louder, as now, not only was Molly hungry, but also quite tired. She lazily walked the carpet upward, eyeing the seated individuals, one by one, examining their collars. Sharp points of white to navy blue rounds, collar to collar to collar. The further she walked up this aisle, the more metal brooches appeared. Silver palladium of butterflies with blueberries, dotting such garments; all increasing in number, size, and even gemstones the further she walked! A sudden stop- 

 

Molly, standing still at a collar that showed age and different citrine. Rather, a yellow fur between pendants that shines. 

 

A collar, in no doubt, strapped around a big, yellow dog.

 

Looking up to see a large labrador in a tiny suit, with a taller feminine silhouette beside. Her face covered by a bushy velvet hat; on top, matching glittery wine, all the way meeting down to a red, singular hamster. Its face not shown, only the loud snores revealing their eyes for a second little over, these sounds sucking in and out the CO2 drafted from this picture family. With a labrador panting and glazed over, to a tall figure sitting, all around the hamster matching still dress. It was a quiet scene aboard this loud train. Quiet enough to hear that glitter dance to the subtle panting. Molly reached her mitten hand slowly toward the mysterious family. The wool inched past the labrador as her little fingers wriggled forward. The dog at this point was looking down at her destination as well. Both were eyeing as she moved closer and closer to the red, fluffy animal. Once there, patting its forehead while cooing at the plush. Going in to rub its belly, Molly used her fingers to indent the poppy skin.

 

“My eyes! My eyes!” screamed the Hamster.

 

Molly immediately was taken aback. Bright-eyed at hearing an animal talk for the very first time in her life, she now respected her decision in deciding this family to be weird. The Hamster continued to groan, stirring the lady and dog in focus, as the animal sank from it’s lap of a pillow. You could hear a sinking body hit the floor and moan a bit more after such. Molly peared over the labrador to find where this talking hamster went, but just as quick as it had talked, it also had disappeared! The leather seat was empty between the lady and labrador now, where even the dusty floor revealed no animal in sight. The seat that once held a hamster was now completely vacant. She continued looking past yellow fur, smiling at the silhouette and trying to glance past. Molly felt a subtle knock at her feet whilst examining, and her pupils got even wider than before once she looked down. Knocking at her shins was a tiny man. A dwarfish, red haired man. She blinked and blinked to the next blink wondering if this was a dream, but such only caused her pupils to enlarge more as her thoughts met with confirmations in mind.

 

The talking hamster had turned into a man!


 

“And what bothers you, to be poking a man’s eye!?” it called out. 

“You’re a man!?” Molly trembled,”Then what is that?” she pointed with a cut. The man’s anger froze as his eyes, now curiously darted the following signage. “My dog?” he replied, the labrador panting happily. “No, that.” Quickening his eyes, “My wife?” he questioned loudly, the lady waving her hand back at Molly. No, no, that! Now the dwarf, finally calm, lifted both eyes up, slowly to find a blush finger indented at his hairline.

 

”My hair?” the man furiously squawked, his eyes lowered back to strain at Molly, with eyebrows following. “That’s your hair?”, Molly screamed. “That’s my hair.” he sighed; his eyes strained, now droopy down to the floor. She noticed this as her voice worryingly lightened with a final confirmation. 




 

“So... you’re a man.”


 

“I am a man.”


 

Dropping her eyes, watching the floor with him, The man nudged his dog to scoot as he sat in place. Molly bit her lip as she sat on a vacant seat beside, putting her feet under and above to swing. Dangling sneakers with the rhythm of the train, Molly’s lips pouted down along with her eyes. The rumbling train almost as if clearing the air to lift away the awkwardness, Where in only five minutes of the time Molly knowingly was sixty-two hours away from Claire Loupe, and in that five minutes Molly unknowingly had also met her first friend.




 

“You’re quite horrible for a child.”

 

The man muttered as he sat with arms crossed, peering with one eye from noticeable arm hair.

 

“As you’d think before poking something you would ask the very thing if. It. minds.”. Each ending word revealing the man’s face and anger. Where the sun now illuminating this dark capsule of the train cabin, came to be a soft stern brow atop wide pupils and big, large, bushy beard. A big large bushy beard almost shaped him to look quite similarly to a walrus.

 

“And now that you know of the proper conventions in regards to poking and introducing, how about you ask my name and we start there? Please ask me my name, please!”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry sir I didn’t mean any-”

 

“Mr. Walgruff, nice to meet you very much!” He proudly replied, “Where I'll have you know the Walgruff family owns the most popular and exclusive pastrami shop in Claire Loupe.”

 

“I understand sir-”

 

“Long have we spent serving the hungry citizens on Claire delicious sandwiches and meals of morning breakfast, afternoon breakfast, and later breakfast. These meals of course, being blacklisted to you if you do not immediately give me the sincerest of apologies!” As Mr. Walgruff closed his eyes and tilted his head up in disapproval.

 

“That's what I'm trying to do Mr. Walgruff sir, I am truly-,” Molly Looked down with a subtle frown.

 

“I don't wanna hear it!” Mr. Walgruff exclaimed with both palms out laughing at the manner of the conversation.” You don't mean a word you say miss- What is your name, little lady?” He smiled and extended his hand to greet.

 

“My name is Molly sir, and it’s very nice to meet you!” Her frown transformed to a smile as she shook hands with the businessman. The cabin at this point revealing all against an excited sun; illuminating new reflections in the shimmering red dress, Mr. Walgruff’s oak dark suit coming more casual, the fresh coat of the labrador’s strawberry coat and opposite tie, to the wine-pincushioned seats lulled around. The train car had a warm magic as it rumbled and skipped along its tracks compared to other cramped lofts. Where outside the bumpity bumping glass panes past beginning formal introductions, aloft, lush green countryside relaxed under acoustic skies so blue, as past such blues’ under cotton cloud chimes, laid the bridge to Claire Loupe waltzing in focus. An extensive marble viaduct protruding from the nautical sea separating the quiet rural life far away from it’s older, and louder brother, the city of Demoko. Yet, between said capital siblings along this spring travel today, the wind ran differently, glistening such outside green bio. Of the backyard where Molly, the passengers, and those lifestyle brothers all lived in. Earth whistled a new tune towards the train having not one bit of the cabin now, hiding away from the warm glows entering. Its soft whistles and smiling light breathed through the glass like choirs. Weaving through and to iron tracks surrounded by rich, lively trumpet grass. Zephyr beside esse both beautifully became instruments in that afternoon, playing their gig on the limitless, green open orchestra loud enough for everyone to hear.





 

The train to Claire Loupe was nowhere close to its destination.

 



 

Chapter 2.


 

 

 

I’d like to think trains move backwards. Not for any special reason, only because it sounds a little beautiful. Especially to places gone before. A lonely visit instead as simply a nice return. How complex this thought could be. We’re all going somewhere, somehow also meant to be. 

The acoustics of travel strumming with each step. Our train returning to Claire practiced such. Just faster, and with bigger feet. 





 

“Chugga chugga, Chugga chugga, Chugga chugga!” Molly and Mr. Walgruff chanted with fists banging on their laps. Molly, clenching in her hand the dollar note, had noticed the food cart stopped barreling through the aisle and proceeded to a slow crawl. She could feel the glossy texture bounce excitingly in her palm as the cart reached their exit.

 

The lizard, in an instant tossed together a clean, white tablecloth in front of them. It’s shimmers fell with sunlight,each fiber and thread glowing in the air as it tumbled and landed perfectly square on the wooden table. The scaly artist gingerly placed matching ceramics, the booth at this point was filled with white decor. The lizard took from his cart a large metal kettle, “Vichyssoise Soup for this afternoon” as it poured the golden stew in each bowl. “And to top it off, fresh greenery from our garden”, it concluded, dropping thyme leaves and miniscule leeks onto the potato soup like a verdant blanket. The lizard smiled and bowed, extending it’s hand” We hope you enjoy this wonderful meal before our final course this evening. Molly and Walgruff at this point had picked up their utensils and aimed it at the soup gobbling it up. A nice warm taste that hit the tongue, a creamy sensation that had an amazing contrast with the cool and senseful veggies. Each spoon a cool colorful explosion in their mouth

 

“Ahem.” The lizard interrupted, it’s arm now hovering over Molly and Mr. Walgruff. Their eyes wide and looking up. “Afternoon service is ten notes” it demanded. Molly smiled as she gave the  waiter her crunched up dollar. “We just got excited, sorry about that sir!” The lizard nodded, looking up and down the messy note before rolling it’s eyes and shoving the note away.

 

“Yes, yes, yes we did get carried away.” Mr. Walgruff said as he rummaged through his wallet. Lady and Labrador had all paid at this point, leaving the busy sound of old business cards groveled in search being his only reply. “Now sir.” The lizard exclaimed, “If you do not have the necessary notes we’re afraid we cannot serve you.” Mr. Walgruff's stern eyebrows shifted towards the waiter, very quickly relaxing as he smiled. “Waiter, Sir what's your name?”

 

“Newt, now if you don't pay like all the other passengers we will be taking away your lunch.”

 

“I get that waiter, yes but not what?” Walgruff replied.

 

“What?” Newt’s eyes, now scanning him.

 

“Your name, not what?”

 

“No sir, not not, it's newt.”

 

“Knot you say?” Walgruff looked at the ground with his finger over his lips.

 

It is not knot it is newt.

 

Not, knot… whatever it is, waiter, I just wanted to know your name so that my friend the conductor would be nice enough to tell you that we shouldn’t have to pay for lunch to begin with.” He exclaimed

 

Labrador had looked up from his bowl, soup covering his nostrils and mouth as he stared back up.

 

“We didn’t have to pay for this?” Labrador replied.

 

Newt slammed its hands on the booth table” Yes, yes you all must pay for this, the conductor told me none of the sort about knowing any special guest in third-second, and if he did I would have remembered.” Newt crossed its arms as Mr. Walgruff now began to stand up. “Look Knot, just go to the conductor and ask him Mr. Walgruff sent you, he will know who we are!” Walgruff’s hands mirroring Newt’s on the table. “I will not be doing any of the sort that is not my job!” Newt groaned. “Well get a new job then Knot!” Mr. Walgruff sternly roared.

 

Newt’s eyes turned red, its eyebrows now angled much further than Mr. Walgruff could ever achieve, “It is Newt, not knot!” it exclaimed.

 

Well, you'll have to take this soup off my dead hands if you think you’re going to separate me from this meal.” Walgruff replied, crossing his arms as he fumed. 

 

Newt, arms crossed as well, peered its eye out and snapped its fingers. Immediately, the bowl and cup that was once there before had now disappeared without a trace. The lizard quickly packed its equipment as Mr. Walgruffs eyes bulged out of his head in disbelief. “ If you feel like our service was unfair, I advise you to send us a complaint, but in the meantime sir I must do my job.” Newt gabbled, its cart once again barreling down the aisle as Mr. Walgruff stood and demanded across the booth “No, No No!” Stammering to the edge of the table, “ You can't go, you can't go, no no.” his demands turned into sobs. As the cart had now launched itself far from distance, Mr. Walgruff sat in tears on the aisle.

 

His sobs quieted as Molly put down her spoon to comfort him, her hand warmly placed on his shoulder as the train gilded and ran. And with all the sounds of the busy train and the other passengers laughing and eating, you could hear a quiet rumble in it all. A quiet rumble no doubt, coming from Mr. Walgruff’s empty stomach.

 

To steal a beer:

A finger juxtaposed towards Molly’s arm.

“Now you’ve got to make up for this.” Walgruff slighted. “Now why do I have to fix this?” Because -

 

“Im the adult”

 

Molly pouted as Mr Walgruff continued

 

And as we all know Children must listen to adults. Regularly. So, heres the plan! Walgruff in a haste, grabbing his napkin and pen scribbling. “The cart is traveling 10mph, and with that newt following suit we can expect it to reach the conductor at 200.” Now, I suggest - Walgruff furiously sketching his tactics - “We attempt to  intervene the slow moving cart up ahead, and at the same time dodge his gaze, we cant steal what he can stop -

 

Right, said molly

 

So, to circumvent this we shall ambush him in the further carts and wait

 

Right said molly

 

We’ll accomplish this by traveling above the train swiftly darting to the next couple of carts where we will strike.

 

Right said molly,


 

Wait wait- were leaving the train?

 

No, no no no you're not listening, 

 

Were just climbing above the train see,

 

Walgruff dots the sketched top train- it's not like we're leaving it, just simply riding it, but on top.


 

A rush of wind brushed her hair, strands upon strands shimmering with carbon movement.

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