"Arrgh." I groaned as I peeled my face from the carpet of my bedroom floor. Darn it, I must have rolled off the bed again. I sneezed. This carpet was seriously dusty. Judging from the sky outside, it was already 8 a.m.
"Alexis!" Dad's voice sounded from below.
"Coming." I muttered and got dressed.
When I went downstairs, dad was already having breakfast.
"Morning, dad." I said, yawning.
"Alexis, don't tell me you're too tired for today's delivery, we've got thirty-five orders today, and I can't possibly do them all by myself!"
I grinned.
No way you're doing those without me!"
Dad and I run a chocolate shop in our village called The Chocolate Factory. I've never really gotten to know my mom, since she died when I was three. There's not much to remember about her, but we've got pictures.
Before I could do more than take a bite out of a roll, the bell rang. Huh, I guess dad opened the shop before I even woke up. A lady sauntered in. Dad got up.
"Good morning, ma'am. How can we help you?"
The lady smiled, "I'm looking for a gift for my son. It's his birthday."
"He's got a sweet tooth, eh?" Dad joked.
The lady shrugged. She turned her eyes on me.
"Is that your assistant? She's quite young, isn't she?"
"I guess you could say that. Alexis is also my daugther."
The lady looked surprised. "Really? You don't even look alike."
We get that a lot, considering that we're total opposites in terms of looks. Dad's from America, with sun-bleached hair, a tan, and a friendly grin. I'm quite pale, with long brown hair and bright green eyes, along with the fact I'm English. No wonder nearly everybody we meet are shocked when we say we're father and daughter.
We helped the lady choose some boxes of chocolates for her son. She thanked us, paid, and left.
"How old do you reckon she is?" Dad asked.
"Dunno. Thirty, forty-something, I guess? Why'd you ask?" I said.
"Lex, do you think you need a mother figure?"
"Not really." Dad sighed. I didn't know why he suddenly asked this question out of the blue. I've done quite well, considering I've never known my mother.
"Alexis... when you get back, I've got someone I'd like you to meet." Dad said.I nodded, grabbed my coat and a tower of chocolate boxes from the counter.
My bike was at the back of the shop, which, beyond a weathered fence, is a collection of stone brick houses bursting with flowers. I've heard visitors say it feels like they've stepped into the past when they see Greenwood Village. I can kind of see what they meant, considering this place's been around since the 1800's. One would probably expect things to look a bit old-fashioned. I loaded my bike, and wheeled it out. The list dad gave me had all the regulars, plus a few new ones.
It was a lot of cycling around the village, delivering the chocolates. For some who might think it's ding dong dash or something, no, it isn't. That's totally rude. And disrespectful. You have to knock on the door and say something along the lines of Good morning, Mr. Perkins. Here's the chocolate you ordered yesterday. Honestly, aren't parents supposed to teach these little things called manners?
I'm getting off topic, aren't I? By the time I was done, it was already twelve in the afternoon. When I got back, I heard two voices talking, one was my dad's, the other, a woman's, which I did not recognise. I felt a bit nervous. Is this the person dad wanted me to meet? Who was the woman? A relative? I had a lot questions to ask. Just then, dad's voice came out of a nearby window, sounding extremely nervous.
"My daughter, Alexis, should be here soon, I'd like you to meet her..." I figured this was my cue. I pushed open the door."Hi, am I interrupting something?" Sitting on a couple of stools at the counter, was my dad and a blond woman in high heels."No not at all, Alexis, this is Felicity." Dad said.The woman got off the stool, straightened her blouse, and eyed me like an eagle.
"It's Alexis, isn't it?" She looked at me up and down. "Not very impressive."
I decided I did not like this woman. Anyone who said I was 'not very impressive' probably wouldn't get a friendly response. But really, what was she expecting?
"I certainly hope that she's a good kid, Jonathan. Other men I've dated are more attractive, but their kids..."
She looked me up and down, like I was a savage creature she was observing at a safe distance.
"I'm not going to cause you any trouble." I said. "Besides, I turned thirteen last month, not a kid anymore."
"Well, you had better behave yourself, all the same. If there's one thing I absolutely cannot stand, it's a brat." She said haughtily.
What the heck? What's this about being a brat now? As if outright talking about other men's kids being brats wasn't bratty behaviour! Right now, it seemed to me that she was absolutely judgmental and a hypocrite. I was liking her less and less.
"Well, good to know we had this little chat. I'd better get going. Very important business." She gathered up her coat, which was lying on top of the counter, and strode out.
I looked over at dad and he smiled sheepishly.
"You could have told me earlier, you know that?"
Dad frowned. "Alexis, this is quite a personal matter."
"You could have at least told me you got a girlfriend." I said.
"I can tell you don't like her much. Felicity is bit rough around the edges, but she's actually quite nice when you get to know her." Dad said.
Rough around the edges? Dad must either be really smitten with Felicity, or he was totally deluded, or both, because I honestly couldn't see the good in her.
As if the first morning with Felicity wasn't proof enough that we wouldn't get along, when I came down the stairs as usual, Felicity was at the staircase, hands on her hips, and glaring at me like I was a piece of garbage on her lawn.
"I really don't know how Jonathan raises his kids. This is obviously poor self-discipline." She muttered to herself. Her gaze snapped back to me. "Move it, will you? Are you going to take the whole morning just to come down the stairs?"
Felicity was back at it again at the breakfast table.
"Look at you, you aren't even properly dressed! And look at your hair, it's such a mess!" And with that, she reached out with her arm and attempted to pat it into place. I shook my head, trying to shake her off.
"Do you want your hair to become more of a mess?" She threatened.
"It's perfectly fine!" I protested. "I brushed it. Now you've messed it up."
"Don't talk to me like that, girl." Felicity said.
"Hey, where's dad?" I asked, suddenly noticing his absence.
"I'll only tell you when you say sorry."
I glared at her. "What do you mean, 'sorry'?"
"You talked to me rudely. A nice girl would always say sorry." Felicity said matter-of-factly.
"That's not called being nice. That's called being a pushover." I said.
The bell rang. And just in time. I went outside to attend to the customer.
"I'll be waiting for that apology, you mark my words, I will!" Felicity called from the back.
The customers were a boy in his late teens and a girl around my age, maybe younger. They had the same pale skin and ginger hair. I guessed they were siblings.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked.
The girl nudged the boy. He frowned and turned to me, his face reddening slightly.
"It's mum's birthday, and she has a weakness for chocolate."
The girl spoke up. "But we want it to be the best chocolate she's ever had. Do you have any recommendations?"
"We have white, milk, bittersweet and dark chocolate. Which kind does your mum like?"
The girl shook her head. "We need an opinion. You're the expert, aren't you?"
I decided to let her down gently. "Just because I sell chocolates doesn't mean I'm an expert in it."
The girl was still eager. "But you still know a good deal about chocolates, don't you?"
"That much I know." I said.
The boy smiled sheepishly at me. "Sorry about my sister."
I waved his apology aside. "It's alright. Perfectly normal that you'd want somebody's opinion before you do something. Now, why don't we look over what to give your mother?"
They took their time. The girl was dissatisfied with every box of chocolate her brother held up. In normal circumstances, I would've been quite annoyed, but with Felicity at the back of the shop, I didn't mind a bit. They could be sorting through boxes of chocolate until closing time, and I'd still wouldn't mind. Customers like this were precious when Felicity was around.
The brother and sister finally found a box of chocolates the sister was satisfied with. I gift-wrapped it for them, they paid, and I put the money in the till. By that time, it was almost lunchtime. Felicity must be driven nuts by now. And knowing her, she'd still be waiting for that undeserved apology. Darn.
I went into the back of the shop and, sure enough, Felicity was fuming.
"You took the whole morning attending to one customer?" She screeched.
I sighed, knowing what would come next. "Two, actually. They were really indecisive about what to buy."
"Spare me the details. Don't think you can avoid apologising by using indecisive customers as an excuse."
I rolled my eyes. Figures the sooner I got this over with, the better. To be honest, I was too busy sorting out boxes of chocolate for the brother and sister I'd forgotten what I was supposed to be apologising for.
"Okay. Sorry for whatever I did to you." I said.
Felicity narrowed her eyes. "You're not being sincere, girl. Didn't I tell you that I absolutely will not accept insincere apologies?"
"As a matter of fact, you did not."
"Well, I'm telling you now, so pay attention. Now, I want you to apologise, again, with sincerity."
"Give me a break. I apologised, just like you asked." I said, trying not to lose it.
"But you didn't sincerely apologise!" Felicity said.
"I don't even remember what the heck I was supposed to apologising for!"
What happened next was so fast I wasn't even sure it happened. I felt Felicity's hand against my cheek. She'd slapped me. That mad cow slapped me.
Felicity was standing. And wearing high heels, she towered over me a good deal.
"You forgot? You forgot what you were supposed to be apologising for? I know your father speaks very highly of you, but to me you're just an insufferable brat! And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a BRAT!"
Felicity was about to yell at me some more when my dad came in. Felicity gave me an ugly scowl, and went over to greet my dad. I had a few minutes to myself before lunch, so when the both of them weren't looking, I slunk upstairs.
As I went up the stairs, I heard snippets of conversation between dad and Felicity. Well, it was more Felicity babbling and dad sighing rather than an actual conversation.
"... Such a brat, that girl. Hair all messed up and everything. It was all just a mistake, I told her, all you have to do is apologise, but no, she absolutely refused. You know, Jonathan, she could stay in the city with me for a few weeks, I know you're so busy these days..."
I stormed up the stairs. Not only Felicity was immature, but she was also a liar. I sat down on my bed, hard, and fumed.I looked at the photo on my bedside table. It contained a beautiful woman with long wavy brown hair, pale skin, and sparkling green eyes. In her arms was a three year old me in shorts and a green blouse, who was her in miniature. I've been told I looked like her before, often by most of the old-timers I deliver chocolates to.
According to them, her family originally owned the shop for generations. When she was seventeen, she went to America to study. That was where she met dad. They got married in England, and had me.
Felicity's shrill, whiny voice called up to my room.
"Alllllexxxxis! It's time for luuuunnnnch!"
For some reason, she really liked to drag her voice, which made it all the more annoying. I rolled my eyes and got off the bed. I sighed.Lunchtime was going to be messy.
Felicity had evidently taken a shower. She sat at her seat, arms folded, and glaring daggers at me.
"You're late. And contrary to what people might think, a real lady is always on time."
Dad sighed. "Felicity, she's only late by a few minutes. You shouldn't be so harsh."
"The fact that she needs to be reminded of the time she needs to have lunch, is already worse than tardiness."
"Felicity, be reasonable, how can Alexis know that lunch is ready when she isn't around to see it?"
Felicity was about to reply when I said, "Can we just have lunch? I'm starving."
Even during lunchtime, Felicity just wouldn't shut up. She only liked talking about one thing during lunch: me. And it was nothing complimentary either.
"In my opinion, Alexis has the discipline of a dog with an incompetent owner. Not that I'm criticising the way you raise her, and I'm sure you like the way she is now, but really, there's plenty of room for improvement."
She shot me a big, sickeningly sweet smile to inform me that I'd get it later. I lowered my eyes to my food and kept my mouth shut.
"Discipline schools are good places to start. One of my good friends had a son who was a hopeless case. After sending him to a discipline school, he became so obedient that she was completely shocked!"
Felicity smiled a smile that was supposed to mean that she realised she was boring everyone with a pointless story, (which she was) and that she needed to get back on track of the conversation (which she wasn't).
"Anyway, what I'm saying is, your daughter has discipline issues."
I could feel the anger bubbling inside me now. Who the heck does she think she is, to tell a man that his perfectly well-behaved daughter has discipline issues? And what's more outrageous is that she does it just out of spite for the daughter? Overkill. Just overkill. Dad really must be deluded at this point, now that she's shown her true colours.
Felicity smiled smugly at me.
After lunch, I had a talk with dad.
"You serious she's going to stay?" I asked.
"Well, you might have had a bit of a disagreement with Felicity..."
I cut him off. "It was more than just a disagreement, dad, and you know it."
"Alexis, be reasonable..."
"I'm tired of 'being reasonable'. I don't even see what you see in her. She's just a horrible person who doesn't know when to quit."
Dad's gaze hardened. "Alexis, I'm busy enough without you whining about all these things. How about you think about how lucky you are to have a mother figure you can relate to?"
I wanted to tell him that Felicity was a person I would never relate to.
Mother figure? Don't make me laugh. I kept my mouth shut, though. I had enough arguments for one afternoon.
I went back upstairs. If there was a word to describe this afternoon, it would be crazy. Stopping short, I realised that my room was a mess. If Felicity came running to check on my room, she'd go nuts. As much as I'd like to drive Felicity nuts, I didn't want to be under her fire again.
I set about cleaning my room. Starting on the overfilled waste-basket first, I emptied the contents into a plastic bag and tossed it out my window into the backyard. My clothes were next. I tossed the smelly clothes into the laundry basket and turned the rest inside out and sorted them out the best I could. Doing all these mundane, mindless tasks kept me occupied from recent events.
I was reading a book when dinner was announced. I put the book down and took note of the page number and got off the bed. As I expected, Felicity was at the bottom of stairs, wearing an expression that reminded me of an especially bad-tempered bulldog.
"Late again. From this day on, six o' clock sharp will be the time dinner will be served. Any later than that, you'll have to find your own supper."
I bit my lip. Something told me that she was serious. She might be petty and immature, but I figured if there was one thing she could do, it was that she could do as she threatened. Felicity turned away from the stairs with a huff, her heels making a click-clack sound on the wooden floor. I followed her over to the kitchen.
As soon as everyone was seated, Felicity began her jibber-jabber. I tuned her out by thinking about the book I was reading. Felicity looked at me strangely and snapped her fingers in my face.
"Hello? Earth to Alexis? Is there something wrong with you?"
I was snapped out of my train of thought. Felicity looked at me like she was expecting me to drift off again, and then resumed her babbling.
"As I was saying, I thought we could move away from the country and live in the city. We can open up The Chocolate Factory in London, where business will be better." She shot me a look. "Even though it doesn't apply to you right now, it will in the future, so you'd better listen."
To be honest, I couldn't be bothered. I've only been to London once, and while it was a nice place, it was too busy for my liking. I turned back to my dinner. I looked over to dad. He didn't seem to be jumping in joy at this prospect either.
"Felicity, it would take a lot of money to move to London, and I don't think we have enough just yet."
"Nonsense, with my funding, I can make sure we settle into a nice place in London, complete with furniture to replace the junk around here." She shrugged. "I have always been the sole breadwinner in the family, after all."
I snorted into my dinner. Felicity snapped her gaze over to me. "Yes, any questions, Alexis?"
She turned back to dad. "Well now, I'm getting off track, aren't I?" She shot me a devilish grin. "We'll be getting married soon."
My eyes just about popped out. Felicity saw my expression and grinned wider.
This was an absolute nightmare. Felicity marrying my dad and moving in with us? And in the city, no less? I quickly finished my dinner and went upstairs. I was going to take some time to process this.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in my bed. I couldn't stop thinking about dad and Felicity, the woman who had the attitude of a cow. I got fed up. I grabbed my coat and making sure dad wasn't awake, slipped down the stairs.
There was a bench at the shop window where I could sit down and take a break after a whole morning's work. I wrapped my coat tightly around myself as it was a chilly night.
I leaned my head against the window. There was a chill against my head, but it went away after a while.
The autumn air was cold and crisp. A gentle breeze swayed the flower bushes all around the place. The leaves rustled along like busy workers. I sat back, taking it all in.
The breeze suddenly became a gust of strong wind. Then another. Then another. It blew my hair back and tugged fiercely at my coat. A pair of lights appeared in the distance. I even thought I heard a vague choo-choo sound. The lights grew. I could just barely make out the silhouette of a train. The silhouette became a shape, then an actual train was barreling towards me where I stood. I screamed and collapsed against the bench.
The train came to a halt. I couldn't make any sense out of it. There wasn't a train station in Greenwood, much less here. I studied the train. It looked like the kind of old-fashioned train in movies, with luxury compartments and bedrooms where you could stay the night in. Along its side was emblazoned the name:
The Train of Hope
A door opened at the front of the train and a short, stout man with a walrus moustache poked his head out. He wore a blue conductor's uniform and looked like he was in a very bad mood.
"And that useless driver wouldn't even tell me where we are! God, I do hope this is our last stop!"
The conductor looked back at the train. "I know we have all the time in the world, dammit! Are you going to tell us where we are or not?"
I moved up to where the conductor was standing. "If you don't mind, sir, you're in Greenwood village."
The conductor saw me and jumped. "Another one? The Ambassador will have his hands full, he will!" He turned his back to me and muttered a few things to the train door. He came back to me, face flushed with anger. "Well, are you getting on?"
"Huh?" I was taken aback.
The conductor gritted his teeth. "Kids these days, slower than any snail I've..."
He was interrupted by a weary voice coming from inside the driver's compartment.
"Come on, cut her some slack, it ain't every day one sees a magical train."
The conductor clenched his teeth so hard that I thought they were going to burst in his mouth. He turned back to me.
"Seriously? You've never heard of this train? Of me, the great conductor of the Train of Hope?"
"Not really."
"This train you're looking at right this moment was in fairy tales. Fairy tales, mind you! If you've read fairy tales, surely you've heard of this train, and me."
"Um, the fairy tales I read never mentioned any trains, much less this one."
The conductor's expression changed from shock, to disbelief, and then to a reassured smugness.
"You've been reading the wrong ones, then!"
If a train in the village without any railroad tracks wasn't strange enough, then this was.
The conductor looked so mad that I thought steam was going to come out of his ears.
"Really? You've never even heard of us? We've been in the business for centuries! We've been around before you were even born!"
I took a step back. Funnily enough, the neighbourhood wasn't even roused by the conductor's outburst. But it wouldn't be long until someone came running. I decided to change the subject.
"It's not everyday you see a 'magic train' around these parts, so what brings you here?"
The conductor huffed . "Well, the title is pretty self-explanatory. We pick up kids who've got problems with family."
"If you mean divorces and abuse..." I began.
He cut me off. "All problems. From the brattiest sibling to the most abusive of parents. And everything in between. Our boss, the Ambassador, has a motto: problems are problems, no matter how small. I don't agree with it though. Kids never seem to get the memo. So, you getting on, or what?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I have a choice?"
The conductor shrugged. "Nope. But you have a choice on whether to consider this kidnap or a nice vacation. I recommend you pick vacation, though, saves you lots of stress. Besides, when the Train of Hope stops at your door, you're getting on, no matter what."