Copyright © 2002 by Syvia (Aka Rebecca K. Friedrick). All Rights Reserved.
Disclaimer: I don't own FF8, or anything in it. Nor do I own the two Arlo Guthrie songs (City of New Orleans & Last Train) that I've tweaked in this fic.
Author's notes: I wrote this one night when I should have been doing homework... but I needed to write this, and I think that it kinda needed to be written. Enjoy. Please R&R.
Train Songs
When President (Sir) Laguna Loire finally convinced the people of Esthar to open their doors and allow people from 'the outside' to enter their city again, it was a cause for worldwide celebration. Granted, the walls remained up, and the city remained invisible to just about everyone, but now it was possible to get to the city by train, as well as aircraft.
For the first ever train ride into Esthar, he invited his son, Balamb Garden's SeeD Commander, Squall Leonhart, several of his associates from the Gardens, and various other foreign dignitaries.
Now, Squall didn't really want to go, but he was persuaded to go through with the ceremony. Some say that this persuasion involved an incriminating videotape of Squall and his fiance, the Sorceress Rinoa Heartilly-Caraway... but no one has ever admitted to the accusations, and neither of them are ever very keen on bringing up the subject.
Me? I'm not admitting anything. What? Hey, lots of people in Garden have video cameras! Why does everyone accuse me of this? So I like trains- so what? It doesn't mean that I'm going to perform a harmless little bit of blackmail to.... Hmm, anyway, Squall needs to see Sir Laguna more often! Everyone thinks so!
But... I digress. That's where the situation stood at the time. Or rather the situation sat, on the other side of the car we were in. It was luxurious. That's for sure! It was practically an apartment all by itself. I was looking out the window, like I always do, but this time at the sea. Deep blue and fiery green waves rolling all around, and-
"Sefie, do you really hafta' sing that every time you get on a train?" Zell whined. I turned to look at him. To be honest, I hadn't even realized I was doing it.
I laughed. "What? You don't like it?"
"It is kind of repetitive, Selphie," Quistis admitted, grinning.
"Aww, I think it's cute," Irvine drawled. He wrapped a long arm around my waist and swept me sideways off my knees, into his lap.
"You haven't had to sit through five train rides with her," Squall murmured, rubbing his forehead.
I pouted up at Irvine. "They don't like my singing, Irvy," I said, giving him wide little-girl eyes.
"I think you have a pretty voice, S-" Rinoa's voice was cut off as Squall covered her mouth with one gloved hand.
"Don't say things like that, you'll only encourage her," Squall said an ironic tone of voice. Rinoa rolled her eyes above the black leather.
Irvine hugged me, imitating my pout. "Aww, my poor lil' darlin'. Everyone's picking on you today."
Quistis was smiling at me. "Pick a different song if you want to sing so badly."
I laughed. "Assignment accepted, Instructor." I straightened on Irvine's lap and thought for a minute. Then I smiled, cleared my throat, and began to sing.
Ridin' on
the Fisherman's Horizon...
Timber central,
Monday morning rail.
Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders...
three conductors,
25 sacks of mail.
I looked around as I sang, feeling something fuzzy growing in my chest as Zell raised his chin off his hand and leaned forward, interested. Quistis's smile got wider, holding less amusement and more pleasure.
All along the south bound heart of sea,
the train pulls out at Station-E,
rolls along past houses farms and fields...
passin' trains that have no names,
coral reefs, full of old black boats,
and the graveyards where they're rusted down to their keels.
I felt even more gratified as I saw Rinoa lean back in Squall's arms and close her eyes, a small grin lifting the corners of her lips. Squall tilted his neck, letting his cheek rest on the top of her head. He didn't smile, but the lines of his face softened. He actually seemed to be relaxing.
Good mornin' Galbadia,
how are you?
Said doncha' know me?
I'm your native child.
I'm the train they call,
the Fisherman's Horizon.
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is mild.
Irvine kissed me lightly on the cheek. I smiled as I continued.
Dealin' triad,
with the young men in a club car...
Card to card, ain't no one keepin' score.
Pass the paper bag that holds the hotdogs,
feel the wheels rumblin' 'neath the floor.
There were smirks from all of them at the mention of triple triad and the hotdogs and it was an effort for me to keep my voice from shaking with laugher during the next part.
And the sons of old men porters,
and the sons of engineers-
ride their fathers' magic carpets,
made of steel...
Mothers with their babes asleep,
rockin' to the gentle beat,
and the rhythm of the rails is all they feel.
Rinoa opened her eyes again with a smile and hugged Squall closer to her.
Good mornin' Galbadia,
how are you?
Said doncha' know me?
I'm your native child.
I'm the train they call,
the Fisherman's Horizon.
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is mild.
I coyly punched the button to close the drapes as I began the next verse.
Nighttime on the Fisherman's Horizon,
changin' cars in Eshtar's Station-D.
Halfway home,
we'll be there by morning.
Through the Salt Lake darkness,
rolin' down to the sea.
There was soft laughter and I think Squall cursed in surprise when the car went completely dark, but Rinoa shushed him as I pushed the button again, letting the curtains slide back open a bit. My expression sobered a little with the next verse.
But all the towns and people seem,
to fade into a bad dream.
And the steel rail,
still ain't heard the news.
The conductor sings his songs again,
the passengers will please refrain-
this train's got to disappear in railroad blues...
It was silly, but my eyes watered as I started on the last stanza.
Goodnight Galbadia,
how are you?
Said doncha' know me?
I'm your native child.
I'm the train they call,
the Fisherman's Horizon.
I'll be gone 500 miles when the day is mild.
Irvine clucked my chin softly at the ending. "That was beautiful, Sefie," he whispered. He kissed me, a quick brush of lips, and rubbed his thumb against my cheeks, wiping away tears. I looked around at the rest of them. No one else said a word, but I saw their smiles of appreciation. A little embarrassed, I shrugged and gave a small laugh.
"Well," Rinoa said, breaking the silence. "On that note, I think I want to go to sleep." She stood up, and turned around, grabbing Squall's hand. "And I think I want you to come with me." Squall mock-groaned, allowing Rinoa to pull him up and lead him into their private section of the car.
"Goodnight, you two," Quistis called after them, smirking slightly. There was some kind of murmured reply from the darkness beyond their doorway before the panel slid shut.
"Sefie, if you knew that song, why haven't you sung it before?" Zell asked, yawning.
"I learned it from a friend in Trabia," I murmured. "She died when the Gardens were attacked." I felt Irvine's arms tighten around me. Zell looked up, embarrassed. Quistis just looked at me, impassive, like she usually is.
"Damn," Zell whispered. "I'm sorry, Sefie."
I shook my head. "Don't be." We were all silent for a while. Then Quistis stood.
"I think I'll follow the 'lovebirds' example. Goodnight everyone." We all wished her a good night. Quisty squeezed my shoulder as she passed, heading for her door, which was beside Squall and Rinoa's. Zell murmured goodnight, still embarrassed, and ran for his room. I turned slightly in Irvine's arms and curled my body into his embrace. He held me, my body in a tight little ball on his lap, his chin resting on top of my head.
"You okay, buttercup?" he whispered.
"I was while I was singing..." I breathed. "Now... I dunno." It was hard to remember them.
Even now, it's hard. All those friends, all those lives destroyed. I was still trying to let them go, but I wasn't doing a good job.
"If you wanna' cry... go ahead," he said, rubbing my back gently. I shook my head, took a shuddering breath, and started to sing another song.
I wanna hop on the last train in the station...
won't need to get yourself prepared...
when you're on that last train for glory,
you'll know-
you're reasonably there.
My voice started to shake, and Irvine just held me tighter.
Maybe you aint' walked on any highway...
you've just been flying in the air...
but if you're on that last train for glory,
you'll know-
you must've paid your fare.
I pulled far enough away to look Irvine in the face and gave him a tremulous smile.
Maybe you've been lyin' down,
in the jailhouse.
Maybe you are hungry and cold...
maybe your ticket on the last train to glory-
is the stranger who is sleeping on your floor.
I looked into his eyes, dark with pain at my sadness, and smiled more easily. Shaking my head as I sang the next line.
I aint' a girl of constant sorrow...
I aint' seen trouble all day long...
we are only passengers on the,
last train to glory-
that will soon be long, long gone.
Tears dripped down my cheeks as I remembered the old group, the friends who died in Trabia. But they'd taught me this song, and I think they heard me as I sang that night. It may not seem like much, but it was enough.
I wanna hop on the last train in the station...
won't need to get yourself prepared...
when you're on that last train to glory,
you'll know-
you're reasonably there....