On Christmas Eve, many years ago I lay quietly in my bed. I did not rustle the sheets. I breathed slowly and silently. I was listening for a sound I was afraid I'd never hear. The ringing bells of Santa's sleigh.
Oh, sorry. I suppose a proper introduction is in order. I'm Ocellus, nice to meet you. I'm a twelve year old girl with blue skin and eyes, and pink hair, who lives in Pennsylvania, in a town called Altoona. It used to be a big industrial centre with the Pennsylvania Railroad having their main workshops here. Although the Pennsy is long gone and the railroad factories are no longer here, there's still a lot of life in this town, and Norfolk Southern trains continue to ply their way up and down Horseshoe Curve.
I suppose you're thinking this; why is a twelve year old listening for Santa's sleigh, eh? Surely you'd have grown out of that rubbish a long time ago. Well, I've always been one to not discard something without evidence. Whilst I hadn't heard a good case for his existance, I will admit, I hadn't heard a good case for him not existing either. However, something in me was making me start to swing towards unbelief. Surely somebody would have noticed a giant city in the Arctic Circle, right?
I lay there, my eyes shut, trying to look like I was asleep. And probably failing badly. My ears listened for every conceivable noise, hearing the bubbling of the boiler downstairs, the hum of the fusebox, and my radiator, which was leaking and needed fixing. It was then I heard a sound from downstairs. It sounded like somebody carrying a bag! I jumped out of my bed and went over to the door, putting my eye against the peephole (or the keyhole, take your pick), and looked into the corridor.
I pulled back from the door when I realised who it was. Seems like mom and dad just got back in. Seems that Christmas Eve isn't a holiday for some.
In case you're wondering, both my parents work. Dad's the yardmaster at Altoona, meaning he's out most of the day overseeing train movements and assembly of stock. I've been in the tower once or twice and seen what he does. It's pretty cool, with all the glowing lights and moving letters and numbers on a board.
Mom I see a lot more of, as her line of work doesn't require her to be in an office all the time. One of the upsides of being fairly important in the banking sector is that you can work from wherever you want, though not neccesarily from wherever you want. Some of the other parents gave her crap for trying to keep her job going whilst raising me, but she didn't tale any notice. She's got very thick skin, and virtually nothing bothers her, so that's a win in my book. Besides, the periods of time when I was on my own gave me a good deal of independence. I can look after myself.
I hid out of the light from the hall light as they began talking to each other. "Well, that's me done until New Year!" Dad said, sounding rather cheerful. I reckon I'd be too, if I'd learned I had the rest of the week off. "Thorax is covering for that time."
"Doesn't he have his own family to be with?" Mom asked, as she opened a door, presumably to their bedroom.
"I've never been able to get to the bottom of that," Dad sighed, as he put something heavy down. "I'd better start putting these under the tree in readiness for tomorrow. We've got an especially large load this year!"
This confused me. I hadn't asked for much, and lavishing large numbers of gifts on their kids wasn't their style.
"I think we'll need it, given what's coming." I suddenly heard footsteps coming towards my door. I bolted for it and dived into bed, pulling the covers over myself just in time as Mom entered. "Are you asleep, Ocellus?"
I didn't reply.
"I'll take that as a yes, then." Footsteps indicated she was moving away from my current position. "Nothing would wake her up, not even a train."
"Well, we ready?" Dad asked.
"Yep!" Mom replied. "Time to see if Mandible's asleep. You know how hard he can find it to sleep on Christmas Eve..."
Mandible's my little brother, a full three years younger than me and an expert at sleeping like a log. But I couldn't sleep. I had to get some answers. Something was nagging at the back of my mind, and I went for my bookshelf. On it I had my copy of the Encyclopedia Britannica that a friend had given me for a birthday or two ago. I scanned through the pages, eventually getting to N, and then flicking onwards to NO. At last, I found the entry I was looking for and started to read, my torch doing little to penetrate the gloom of my dark room.
North Pole, northern end of Earth’s axis, lying in the Arctic Ocean, about 450 miles (725 km) north of Greenland. This geographic North Pole does not coincide with the magnetic North Pole—to which magnetic compasses point and which in the early 21st century lay north of the Queen Elizabeth Islands of extreme northern Canada at approximately 82°15′ N 112°30′ W (it is steadily migrating northwest)—or with the geomagnetic North Pole, the northern end of Earth’s geomagnetic field (about 79°30′ N 71°30′ W). The geographic pole, located at a point where the ocean depth is about 13,400 feet (4,080 metres) deep and covered with drifting pack ice, experiences six months of complete sunlight and six months of total darkness each year.
It was clear this wasn’t what I was looking for. I skipped on a few pages;
The first ships to visit the pole were the U.S. nuclear submarines Nautilus (1958) and Skate (1959), the latter surfacing through the ice, and the Soviet icebreaker Arktika was the first surface ship to reach it (1977). Other notable surface expeditions include the first confirmed to reach the pole (1968; via snowmobile), the first to traverse the polar region (1969; Alaska to Svalbard, via dog sled), and the first to travel to the pole and back without resupply (1986; also via dog sled); the last expedition also included the first woman to reach the pole, American Ann Bancroft.
I sighed, and put the book back into its place. It seemed as though the North Pole was a completely desolate place, completely devoid of any life of any description. I lay back down in my bed and continued listening, hoping, praying for something that would finally prove something one way or another.
This was where things started to get rather peculiar. I have a loud, very noisy clock with a very prominent ticking noise (and go ahead, make your Potter Puppet Pals jokes). As I listened, the ticking sound gradually slowed down, and eventually stopped completely.
That caused me to open my eyes and take a look at it. The clock had stopped at 10 minutes to midnight, or 23:50 if you prefer to use 24 hour time. This had to be a dream, as time doesn't just suddenly stop!
Just then, there was a loud rumbling noise from outside. A handful of objects in the house began to shake, quite loudly too. A cup filled with pencils fell off my desk as a loud booming sound echoed from outside. I jumped out of bed and took a look out of the window. Several sets of bright orange lights rolled by, and there was an unmistakable jet of steam in the air. I ran over to my wardrobe and quickly pulled on my clothing of choice; a red, knee length dress with white socks and black shoes. I also grabbed my coat for good measure, but I caught one of the pockets on the knob of my door and accidentally tore it! That, however, was far from the front of my mind as I made my way down the stairs and to the door. What was that sound or object? And why didn't it wake mom and dad?
I sprinted down the road to where the light was seen. I live pretty close to the Altoona transportation centre, a horrible pile of concrete that replaced the old Pennsylvania station. I ran around the side of the building (as the light was just beyond it, and the gate was somehow unlocked) and stopped in disbelief at what I saw.
There was a train sitting in the platform. The passenger cars, which on my first glance appeared to be streamliners finished in a variant of the PRR's deep red livery, with the lettering POLAR EXPRESS where Pennsylvania would have been. The engine sitting at the front of the train was a Pennsylvania Railroad K4 class engine, road number 1381.
"That engine hasn't run in decades!" I thought to myself, as I walked down the train. I spotted a figure standing in the clouds of smoke and steam. As I drew closer, he became clearer. He had extremely dark green skin and purple eyes, with a crop of red hair. He was dressed in a Conductor's uniform that wouldn't have looked out of place on a tourist railroad.
He glanced to me. "Are you Ocellus?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," I replied. Despite the bizarre situation I found myself in, I didn't forget to be polite.
"Excellent," he said. "I'm Pharynx, and I'll be conductor on this train tonight. Are you coming?"
"Where?" I asked.
"To the North Pole, of Course!" he said. "This is the Polar Express, just in case the names on the passenger cars didn't give it away."
"How?" I asked. "And why me?"
"The Big Man noted you appear to be having something of a crisis of faith this year," Pharynx continued, looking at his list. "No letter sent to him this year, of course. Will you come on a once in a lifetime adventure?"
I hesitated. On the one hand, this was a chance to quell my doubts once and for all. On the other hand, would my parents approve? I'd only left Altoona before on holiday trips, and that was with them or my aunt.
Pharynx picked up on my hesitation. "Very well, suit yourself," he said, and climbed back aboard. He grabbed a radio set. "Clear to depart."
The engine blasted its whistle, and seconds later the train began to move off. I stood watching as it moved off, and then made my mind up. I sprinted after the train, and grabbed the handrail on the passenger car where the conductor had been. I pulled myself up and, after looking ahead one time, climbed through to the outer vestibule.
"Glad you chose to join us," Pharynx smiled. "Right this way, please, to the Coach Car."
Little did I know, I was just starting the adventure of a lifetime...