The Travel

By Lucie

When I was on the road, driving my car, I thought about old-fashioned travelling. I see in my mind a lot of people rushing in and out of the train station. Some people are waiting for the coachman; some woman with her hatbox and her little tiny purse, hanging at her wrist. It seems to me all people were elegant at this time. Maybe it was because people, both men and women wore hats, but everybody had a haughty look and their walks were so proud.

I can almost smell and feel the steam escaping from a train’s chimney. It’s so steamy, we can barely see each other and, like in a movie, with a light wind, the steam disappears and you finally see someone you are waiting for.

It’s so romantic, the idea of travelling by train. It’s more comfortable than an airplane, but the airplane will come later. At this time, we can travel by horse or by foot or by boat. But in the past, if you lived on P.E.I., the train came on the boat, the bridge didn’t exist yet. I didn’t try it and I don’t know how it worked. It’s not easy for me to imagine a train on a boat. So many stories, some were dramatic; others could be full of happiness and maybe intense and passionate. For sure, if the wharf could talk, we would have a lot of books to write or a lot of tales to tell. Why not like this one!

The people dress really nicely; the women wear their pretty gowns. There is great excitement on the wharf, because the Queen is arriving. Not the Queen from royalty, but the Queen Singer. She sang all around the world and, just for one night, she has agreed to sing at the grand theatre. So the people are really excited and there is a little confusion. Nobody knows exactly when the Queen will arrive. Since yesterday, the people have been moving to and fro between their houses and the wharf. But suddenly, they hear a siren far away. The people stop breathing; waiting for another sign, but all of them see the shape of the boat drawing nearer in the sunset. With a deep sigh, the people applaud and begin to talk together, such relief it is. Who knows with this kind of transport, it can break down and this kind of artist, she can change her mind at the last minute and decide to go elsewhere. But the scare is over and life will go on. The crowd scatters, everybody knows it will take a long time before the boat berths and the diva puts her feet on the ground. So they will go back the day after and pray for the good weather.

But, during the evening, the captain makes all the operations for the berthing. The passengers can go down and some go to their homes and the other to their hostels. In this perfect anonymity, the star comes down and joins her hostel. She prefers that, she likes the crowd, but sometimes she enjoys being alone, far away from the lights and the footlights. Lately in particular, she fells a little depressed, a kind of fatigue has set in her. Night after night, to be on the stage, singing, smiling, bowing and after signing all this cards and photographs for all these people. Sometimes it seems to her so heavy. Maybe, she should take a break, a little holiday or disappear for a while, some days or some weeks. For a short time, she has been thinking about that. She isn’t sure if she wants to carry on. She balances between the quiet life and her career. Lately she has begun to feel her voice has failed, not so much, probably nobody remarks it, but she knows and she’s afraid to climb on the stage again a little. Maybe, it’s just because she works so hard and maybe too much lately. The voice is a fragile instrument, you must take care of it and all these travels, all these boats and trains that she has taken, aren’t good for her. She’s not young now.

But now, she doesn’t want to think about that, tomorrow night, she must sing again and the most important, she must sing in front of her fellow citizens. Indeed, she was born on this little island. So the little island who gives birth to a famous artist, it’s almost incongruous, but life is made like that, sometimes it can be amazing.

She always feels nervous every time she must sing at home, for sure, the people have a great expectation about her and she doesn’t want to disappoint them. Change your mind! she says to herself. She wants to enjoy this short stop and mostly to profit the quiet before all these agitations. Tomorrow, all the people will want to see her and listen her and ask her a lot of questions. Always the same questions: Have you had a good travel? How long do you stay here? How many people attended your concert on your last tour? Did you get married? Always the same, but the artist’s life is like this. She must take care of her, mostly of her voice. Tomorrow morning, she’s going to practice with her accompanist and coach. Even he feels that something is wrong with her voice. She saw it at the last practice, he didn’t say anything, but she could read on his face there was something that made him worry. She wasn’t able to think other things. She needs to talk with him, she should see a doctor. Maybe there is something physically wrong with her voice. Hitherto, she never thought that one day she wouldn’t be able to sing. It would be better for her to begin to think about that, she might be a singing teacher, why not! She likes to teach, probably she has a lot of patience to do this and she wouldn’t have any problem to find students.

This thought pleases her and suddenly her life seems to her so simple. She has a B plan. Why didn’t she think earlier? Finished with this stressful life, she sings enough and the passion for the stage aren’t as essential as before.

She takes the path which leads her to the hostel and the air seems to her lighter, the sky bluer, the life more exciting that before. Her decision has taken; tomorrow night will be her last concert. She will finish her great career where it has begun.

My name is Lucie and I come from Quebec. I took English courses at the school “Study abroad Canada” during 2 weeks. I really enjoyed the writing course. In the past, I took a writing course in French, of course, but it’s the first time I write a short novel in English. It’s a good experience and a good practice. Maybe my inspiration comes from P.E.I. or maybe I’m not born in a good time.

When you’re on a long trip, it’s a bad idea to fall asleep, but maybe it’s okay to daydream— just a little...

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