A/N: Don't own Baccano! … Wish I did…
Passengers Make the World Go 'Round
1928:
Tony said the passengers were the most important part of the train. Passengers gave the train purpose. They gave Tony purpose. They gave Claire purpose too.
And there were so many. Businessmen, on their way to jobs, like he was. Very different jobs, but the shared purpose was enough. It connected him to them.
Families traveling; on vacation, or going home, or to see family somewhere. The strong fathers, the lovely mothers, the innocent children. The children. They were very important. The most important. Maybe.
Because. They were innocent. They were defenseless. And. Like all the other passengers. They were in his care. Claire wouldn't stand for anyone to get hurt on a train he was conducting. Because that would mean he failed. And.
Claire Stanfield was always good at what he did.
So. His job, off the train was to kill. But his job on the train was to protect. And he would protect all of these people, on his trains, going about their mundane lives. While he lived twice in the shadows.
In the shadows of his own world.
It was a paradox, huh.
But Claire didn't mind. Because. It was his world, right? He was free to make it as paradoxical as he liked. And he did like it. Paradoxes. It gave him something to think about.
Oh.
But Tony told him; not to get off task on the job. Because the passengers were important. And you never knew… When they would say something.
That is, say something important. Something that would change your life forever.
So.
When the young girl; she couldn't be more than twelve, tugged on his sleeve, Claire's attention was on her immediately, a kind smile on his handsome face.
"Yes? What is it, ma'am?" he asked.
He knew kids; and they never responded well if. If you called them 'kid' or 'little miss' or anything that implied that they were small. Kids always wanted to be treated like adults. So. That's how Claire treated them. In any case.
The girl giggled into her hand, and gave him a big smirk.
"Hey, mister conductor… You seem real nice, so… I wanna tell ya something."
Claire nodded, imitating the girl's serious look.
"Well…" she continued dramatically. "Ya see, there's this monster that haunts railroads. So I want ya to be real careful, ok, mister? Cuz this monster, it can change into anything."
Into anything. A monster, huh? A kid with a thing for ghost stories. She was a pretty cool kid then. Claire liked ghost stories too. He used to… Tell them to Luck all the time. Scare the heck out of the bookish Gandor boy. And Luck was… Still scared of Poe. It made Claire smile because. His 'brother' was still. Just a child, no matter how adult he seemed to others.
"And it chases after trains at night… Each night getting closer. Closer and closer to the train… And when it catches up…"
Her pause was longer this time. She was breathless. It meant something. It meant that she was invested in this story. It excited her. It was important.
Important, like Tony said. But important enough to change his life? Maybe. Maybe not. He'd see. Because. The story wasn't done yet.
"When it catches up, people start vanishing from the train, mister! One by one. Starting in the back cars. And the back cars… Are where you sit, right mister? So be careful. Super careful. Cuz it might get ya. And I think you're nice, so… Don't let it get ya, ok?"
He nodded.
"Anything else I should know? How do you stop it?"
The girl's eyes shone. It was an expression of pure joy. Because. Someone was taking interest. Interest in her story. The colors would fade, distort, over time. What color was her hair, her eyes? He wouldn't be able to recall later. But. Her expression would stay. He knew. Because. It was important.
"Well… You see, mister… Once all the people are gone, the empty ghost train, even as it's still rolling down the tracks, it vanishes! Poof! Just like that, and it's never seen again… And you see… It's real hard to stop the monster, but… I bet you could do it, mister. You look really strong."
She was sincere in that. He looked strong, huh? Well he hoped he did. Because. He was here to protect her, right? She had faith in him for that, and he was glad.
"Thank you, Miss…"
"Ellabeth," she told him, grinning. "Say, mister; what's your name?"
"It's Claire. Claire Stanfield."
Claire was a name he could use freely, because. Claire had no ties to Vino. So. His identity was safe. And that was good.
"Kinda a weird name for a guy, Mr. Claire," she grinned.
He paused, waiting for a further jab. It didn't come. That made him want to laugh. She didn't want to upset him. Probably. Because he was the only one who was listening to her story. Her rather impressive story. Maybe it was important after all. And he liked the idea of that.
"Anyway, Mr. Claire, like any sorta monster, you gotta beat it, if it shows up on the train. Otherwise it'll get ya. And what's scarier is. If you tell the story to someone while you're on a train…"
She paused, to let him think to himself. To think 'like we are now'. She was good. A very good storyteller, then. He grinned.
"Then, that'll be the one the monster gets next…" she whispered, as if relaying a dangerous secret.
As if she would know of things like that.
"But. The best way to make sure that the monster doesn't get the train… Is to believe it right away, when the person tells it to you. Tell me, Mr. Claire, do you believe?" Ellabeth asked seriously.
And he was hypnotized. Yes. It was true; this was very important. It was so important, so life changing, he knew. But he didn't know how. And he wouldn't. Not for a long time. And yet.
"Before I answer you, Miss Ellabeth… Tell me one thing," he asked softly, seriously, kindly.
She leaned in, to hear him.
"Does this monster of yours… Have a name?"
Ellabeth shivered at the intensity in his reddish gaze. This man, he was deadly serious. She didn't need him to answer if he believed her. Because. It was true that he did; she knew this beyond a doubt. And to repay such belief, she needed to answer. She had to. Ellabeth swallowed thickly.
"It's called… The Rail Tracer."
Rail. Tracer. The two words rolled around in his mind. Yes, yes, that seemed so right. As if he'd known all along and simply forgotten.
"Yes, Miss Ellabeth, I believe you. And don't worry."
He patted her on the head, smiling innocently.
"I'll protect everyone from the Rail Tracer. If ever he happens to show up. So don't worry."
She nodded slowly. Dazed. Hypnotized. Then they were even. Then she smiled at him and walked away. And he never saw her again. Not walking off the train. No family. He'd never seen her parents, so. He didn't know who to look for. Still. She was mysterious. And that was a surprising thing, to him. Because he'd never found anyone mysterious before. At least, anyone that was one of his passengers.
So they'd formed some sort of bond. That belief. Because. He knew if he believed it, it was true. The Rail Tracer was out there. Waiting. Watching. But Claire was waiting too.
And it became his good luck charm. Find someone on the train. Someone special. Someone who looked important. Not 'president' important, not 'senator' important. No. Important in the soul. Someone special.
And then he would look at them. See if he made the right choice. If they believed. And sometimes they did. Sometimes they didn't. It didn't matter much. To him, at least. Because. If the Rail Tracer did get to the train. He would be there to kill it. And.
Claire Stanfield was very good at what he did.
He remembered. Once Ellabeth had gone. He'd tested the words out on his tongue, to see. See if they rolled as smoothly off the tongue as they did off the brain.
"Rail Tracer."
And it just felt right.
The Rail Tracer.
The perfect monster.
And it would be his, all his.
The story of Claire Stanfield.
Vino.
The Rail Tracer.
And who would win in the end?
Who knew. After all…
He didn't know whose side the Rail Tracer was really on.
Until. That year.
When he was finally called home, by his brothers.
Because in the end, he decided, that yes.
They were family, instead of merely something like it.
1931.
His first time conducting Tony's lady.
The Flying Pussyfoot.
And it would change his life.
Forever.