Danny Elfman's Train

We were at an amusement park. Again! This time, it wasn't a very good amusement park. It was a big clearing in the middle of a junkyard. There were mountains of rusting cars and dishwashers.

The clearing had a lot of playground equipment. It wasn't the real stuff that you find in schools and parks, it was the crummy kind you still see in people's backyards a few years after their kids have grown up. They eventually got hauled to the dump, I guess, and the dump people put them in the clearing to use as an amusement park.

There were a lot of small children at the amusement park, playing gleefully on the jagged and rusty equipment. Their parents perched on the junker cars' hoods and bumpers, sipping coffee from Styrofoam cups.

That wasn't why we'd come, though. Pop had heard about a full-size working steam train at this amusement park, and he was really excited.

The train tracks were through the middle of the park. Kids played on and around them, but then red lights flashed, sirens wailed and bells rang. The kids shrieked and moved away from the tracks. Seriously, kids are a lot smarter than you'd think.

The train shot through the park almost too fast to see. It came back quickly, though, so it must have had a shorter track to slow down on. The train slowed down and stopped.

Interestingly enough, the fellow in the engine was Danny Elfman, looking scary and elfin as usual. He looked a lot like he does on the back cover of Nothing to Fear, except in amazingly greasy overalls and matching engineer hat. He also had a halo of fire that floated in space about three inches from the back of his head, and tilted when his head tilted. It looked really cool.

Pop started looking at the train and inspecting gears and plaques and insignia, like a train-likin' person might do. Some kids got out of the open air passenger cars, but mostly the cars were full of more parents waiting for their kids in the park.

Danny Elfman did some train things, like adjusting knobs and checking the pressure. There were some kids shoveling coal, and he mussed their hair and told them they were doing a good job. The kids were about six years old, and covered in coal dust. They were very happy.

We sat in the front of the first car. My sister finally got the nerve up to ask, "Are you the Danny Elfman?" I was going to say something like, "Duh, look at the halo," but he quickly swiveled his head around, and his face honestly was a paper-white mask of evil, illuminated by the flaming halo. And he said:

"Yes I am! And I LIKE TRAINS! BIG FAST TRAINS!"

So that was that, then.

Everyone got on the train, and Danny Elfman blew the whistle. It was really loud. Then the train started and we were pushed back into our seats.

It was like riding the Gravitron at the fair. The train moved so quickly that it was hard to even breathe, let alone sit up or uncross legs.

Pop, sitting next to me, struggled to say something. I managed to turn my head - I only had to move it a little bit, before the G-force threw it the rest of the way. "This is a really good train!" Pop said, "That Danny Elfman's not so bad a guy!"