The small train station is particularly busy today. The long war has finally ended and people are rushing to leave the countryside towns they have been sheltering in. Now returning to the cities in hopes of reuniting with loved ones and rebuilding their lives, everyone is eagerly listening for the sound of the arriving train that will bring them home.
Amidst the crowd, a few young people from the same city have found each other for the first time since they fled their hometown as children. As more familiar faces arrive, the group grows, igniting expressions of welcome and happiness. Time has passed and they are not children anymore. They have grown up, acquired new experience, and confronted challenges that have changed them forever. Behind the happy young faces there is a sense of maturity and responsibility that only hardship can provide. But after such a long time, it does not matter where they have been during these difficult times; what matters now is that they are going home together.
There is so much to say, so many questions to ask. Each one has a story to tell about the places they have seen and characters they have met. But there are also silences followed by nervous smiles that disguise a sadness that may never fade.
No one knows when the train will arrive. After the chaos of a long war, being on schedule is not such a priority anymore. The wait seems endless, and the conversation slowly turns to the train they are expecting.
“I wonder what model it must be?” one asks.
“I’m sure it’s the AK 4523; it was a supply transport during the war,” replies one with a tone of authority.”
“I don’t think so,” says another, “it must be an AP 6298. Those are the most common around this area.”
“Actually, it doesn’t matter what locomotive it is,” adds a third one, “the important thing is the kind of wagon it’s pulling.”
“Do you think we could tell the model and kind of wagon by the sound it makes?” the youngest in the group innocently asks.
“Don’t be silly!” someone replies, and the others laugh.
“Well, actually it is possible,” a voice is heard, capturing the attention of the group. An explanation about the train’s sound follows.
“If the train makes this sound it means the wagons are a cargo model,” another replies, which divides the group between supporters and retractors of that particular train sound.
As more information is added, the conversation becomes an argument. It seems that everyone has some expertise on trains and has to make their case. When they left home as children, nobody knew much about trains. But the locomotive was an important piece of technology during the war, and knowing about it is absolutely essential for anyone who wants to be up-to-date. It seems that some in the group take their train knowledge more seriously than others.
The unspoken feeling amongst the young people is that this knowledge could be the deciding factor in some kind of leadership for their newly formed group. And very soon there are rival candidates and their supporters.
The conversation becomes more heated, to the point that one of the members interrupts, “Guy, guys, is this argument really necessary?” “Yes!” is the answer of the majority. So they continue talking, adding layers upon layers of facts and arguments that only a young brain can produce.
The group seems to have divided themselves into concentric circles: At the center are the parties at the heart of the conflict, debating with increasingly argumentative enthusiasm and “leadership.” Around them are their supporters, actively participating in the argument. In the next layer are the ones not much interested in the argument, but enjoying the conversation and making comments on its development—mainly interested in finding out who will win.
The last layer of the circle are the ones not at all interested in the argument at hand. They are there because they enjoy being with their friends. At some point they attempted to stop the argument but, being ignored or rejected, have figured it is better to just be quiet. At this point the argumentative conversation is loud enough that one has to shout to participate.
Suddenly, a far-off sound calls the attention of the young people who are not involved in the argument. They stop listening to the argument and step aside to pay more attention, wondering if that sound is what they hope for. After some time the sound is heard again—still not strong, but clear enough to confirm their expectations. The train is arriving!
One of them approaches the main group and says, “Guys, guys, the train is coming!” But the argument has reached such a fervor that the announcement is completely ignored.
Finally the train arrives. It will stop in the station just long enough for passengers to board before continuing on its way. There are other stations with people eager to go home.
Now it is time to go. The train is ready to bring the young people home as they leave behind the saddest period of their lives and look forward to a new beginning. The ones who noticed the train jump aboard the last wagon. But their friends are still involved in the frantic argument, trying to show off their knowledge of the train they are supposedly waiting for.
Now the train is starting to move. Slowly it gains more speed. It carries the small group of young people in the last wagon. While everyone else finds their seats, they are looking back toward the station platform at a huddled group so distracted by a noisy argument that they are blind to what is happening around them.
As the train moves, leaving them behind, the noise of their argument fades until only the loudest points can be heard, disappearing like a dying man’s last breath: Anthropocentrism! Denominationalism! Apostolicity! . . . Ontology! . . . Scatology!. . . Women’s ordination!. . .
Copyright Italo Osorio 2021
Photo by Artur Łuczka on Unsplash