by Donna Poole
When the train whistle blew, I threw my head back and laughed. The other passengers probably thought I was crazy, but I didn’t care. Did you ever have a dream come true, something you’d always wanted but never thought you’d get? The smells of the crowded city were already behind me, and out of my window I could see the countryside flashing by more beautiful than any painting. The colors of the autumn leaves were brilliant in the morning sun.
I’d wanted to take a train excursion ever since I’d been a little girl and heard my dad’s stories about when he and Grandpa had worked on the Lehigh Valley Railroad. If only Dad could see the luxury train I was riding now! But before I could even begin to describe it to him in my mind, my head flew back, violently hitting the seat behind me, and the train began screeching on the tracks. It finally rumbled to a halt, the doors opened, and a youngish man—mid forties, climbed aboard.
He walked straight to my seat and snatched my ticket out of my hand. “There’s been a mistake. You’ve got my seat. You need to get off here.”
He hauled me out of my seat, and there I was, standing in the aisle, rubbing my wrists, sore where he’d manhandled me. The car attendant was politely motioning me toward the door.
“Wait just a minute!” I sputtered. “Is this even legal? Did you see what he did? He just stole my ticket, and you’re going to let him get away with it?”
“Hey, you!” the thief hollered, “I didn’t really have any choice. You know how this works!”
I shook my head, trying to make sense of what was happening, but the headache I’d gotten when the train had slammed my head into the seat worsened. What is he talking about? I know how what works?
The attendant’s hand was firmly under my elbow, and he was helping me off the train.
“Wait! How am I supposed to get back to the city?”
He smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll manage.”
I jumped back from the tracks as the train began to pick up speed and watched it, with all its gleaming beauty, as it disappeared from my sight. The last sound I heard was its poignant whistle, and with everything in me, I wanted to be back on that train. I’d never felt so alone.
There was nothing to be done about it though. I’d been robbed of my ticket; no one had helped me, and instead of assisting me, the person in charge had actually aided and abetted the thief. I could think a bit straighter now. I needed to do two things, report this crime, and call for a ride back to the city. I reached in my jacket pocket for my cell. Great. It was gone. It must have fallen out when the thief had hauled me out of the most comfortable seat I’d ever sat in.
Now what? I wasn’t stupid enough to hitchhike. I might have chanced it in my twenties, but by the time you’re sixty, you’ve learned a thing or two. I’d follow the tracks back. I couldn’t be that far out of town, could I? A cloud covered the sun, and I shivered and started walking. Within minutes the beautiful autumn day turned nasty; windy and rainy, spitting snowflakes, even worrying me with an occasional rumble of thunder. I usually walked five miles a day for exercise, so I could estimate distance. My journey back to town seemed like fifteen miles but it was probably more like ten, and it was dark by the time I got home, shivering, wet, and trying to explain to my husband what had happened to my beautiful dream trip.
“Did anyone hurt you?” Jerry asked. “You’re not making a whole lot of sense.”
The look I gave him stopped more questions. “Okay, listen. I think you need to sleep.” He made me a cup of hot tea and tucked me into bed.
The next day Jerry took me to the police station. It was only when they asked me for details that I realized I couldn’t remember the address of the station or the number of the train. When I looked to Jerry for support, he looked back at me as confused as I was.
“Honey, you never did tell me the details of your trip, only that you were heading west and you’d keep in touch by cell.”
The cops looked at each other like I was nuts, shrugged and said there was nothing they could do, and I should take it up with the railroad.
When we left the police station, I told Jerry about hitting my head on the train seat. Our next stop was the walk-in clinic; Jerry insisted. After they cleared me, we stopped and got me a new phone.
In the Uber on the way home, I was as tired and as angry as I’ve ever been. I tried to explain to Jerry they’d robbed me of more than a ticket. They’d taken a dream, and something else, something I couldn’t put into words. I felt helpless, and I didn’t like it.
“Okay, honey, just let it go. Promise me? Whatever you paid for the ticket, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re broke. I don’t want you running all over the city trying to solve this mystery. Forget it, okay?”
I nodded, and he took that as a promise. It wasn’t. I was furious. I’d probably never find the man who’d robbed me, but the railway company needed to be held accountable. I was a woman on a mission. First step; find out who I’d paid for my ticket. I checked credit and debit cards, nothing. Online banking, nada. Did I have a concussion? The doctor had said I was fine, so why couldn’t I remember where I’d boughten the ticket and how I’d paid for it? My brain felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton. Had I paid cash? When I checked my emergency fund in the cookie jar, it was all there.
I tried to let it go, but I couldn’t. So, I began a new routine. Being newly retired, I had the luxury of time. Every day, I packed a tuna sandwich, called an Uber, and began checking train stations. It was a discouraging process in a big city. Nothing looked familiar. Finally, one day I got lucky.
My Uber driver that day was Dominic, a short little Italian who smelled like garlic and reminded me of my dad. I was exhausted and told him the whole story.
“You think I’m crazy?” I asked.
He shook his head and chuckled. “Maybe got your brains a bit rattled when your head hit the seat, but I think I know where you got the ticket. Bet you didn’t pay for it though.”
“What do you mean? Did I win the ticket in a lottery or something?”
He snorted. “Nah. I didn’t say it was free. Somebody paid for it big time. Wasn’t you though.”
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re hard to understand?”
“Yep. My parents did, after I learned English at school and refused to speak Italian at home anymore.”
That distracted me. “You did that? Can you still speak Italian?”
He shook his head. “Only a few words. I can understand it though.”
He stopped. “Out you go.”
I glanced out of the window. The place looked more like a Victorian house than a train station. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been here before, but something seemed familiar. I hesitated for a moment. Then I heard it, that unmistakable sound, a haunting train whistle, calling me to a place I’d never been but knew I belonged.
Dominic grinned. “Sound like a dinner bell calling you home?”
I nodded. “What do I owe you?”
“Nothing. Nada. Vai con Dio.”
I protested. “Uber drivers don’t work for free.”
“Better hurry if you’re going to make that train.”
“Thanks, Dominic. You go with God too.”
My last sight of Dominic, he was lighting a big cigar, the kind my Uncle Frank always smoked.
I was out of breath when I got inside the station, but no one else was in line at the ticket counter. I didn’t know how I was going to explain my sudden departure to Jerry, but somehow I’d make him understand.
“One for the trip West,” I said.
He shoved up the sleeves of his baggy white shirt and consulted a sheet of paper on a clip board. A roster? What? No computer?
“Back so soon, Joan? Nope, just as I thought. Your name isn’t on the list. And you can’t buy a ticket. The benefactor supplies them.”
I didn’t know I could yell so loudly, especially not in public, and definitely not at a stranger. “Listen, you…”
He taped his name badge. “Clarence.”
“Okay, Clarence. You’re going to be lucky if I don’t sue the pants off you and this whole cheating railroad. I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life.”
At the top of my lungs, I told him my entire experience of being unceremoniously exited from the train by a bully aided and abetted by a railway employee. I told him what I thought of his ridiculous tale of a benefactor and a free ticket, and then I slapped my debit card on the counter.
“Now give me a ticket before that train leaves. I have to get on it.”
Then I heard it. The sweet, sad sound of the whistle. The train was leaving the station.
Clarence smiled. “Put that away. I don’t have any way to process it. I’m telling you, the tickets are free, but only for those who are on the list, and only when it’s their time for the trip.”
“I want to see your boss.”
“He isn’t here. He never comes here.”
“I’m waiting.”
He sighed a tired sigh. “Be my guest.”
I sat on a bench and glared at him. After a while I ate my tuna sandwich. I waited again. I marched back up to the counter.
“How many times a day does the train leave this station?”
He glanced up at me, rubbing his eyes. He looked tired, but I refused to pity him. He was part of the conspiracy robbing me of my dream.
“Once,” Clarence said. “That train comes once a day. You might as well go home, Joan.”
“I’ll be back.” I tried to make it sound like a threat. I knew I probably didn’t look very intimidating, not at five feet two and a half inches tall with white hair.
“I can’t wait,” he said.
Outside I called the same Uber company I’d called in the morning and asked for Dominic. “We don’t have a Dominic,” the pleasant voice replied. “Perhaps you wanted Danny? We have a Danny.”
I didn’t believe her, but I was exhausted. “Sure, whatever. Send Danny.”
I almost fell asleep on the way back to the apartment. Just before I got home, I said, “Hey, Danny, do you know another driver named Dominic?”
“Nope. That was my grandpa’s name though.”
“Was he an Uber driver too?”
He laughed. “No. He worked for a railroad years ago when he was young. Can’t remember the name of the railroad though.”
I handed my card over the seat to pay him. “It wasn’t the Lehigh Valley Railroad by any chance, was it?”
“Yeah! That was it!”
I took the elevator up to my apartment. I desperately needed a nap. Thoughts tangled in my brain. I collapsed on the couch, and that’s where Jerry found me when he got home.
“Hey, sleepy head. You haven’t been there all day, have you?”
I shook my head. Why does my head still hurt so much?
“What have you been doing?”
“Oh, this and that. Why are you asking?” And why do I sound so snappy?
“I don’t mean to give you the third degree, but you haven’t seemed yourself lately.”
“I’m okay. Want to order in Italian for supper?”
“We could, but I was thinking Chinese.”
“No, I’m really hungry for Italian.”
Soon one day was like the next. As soon as Jerry left for work, I packed a tuna sandwich, called an Uber, and asked for Dominic. There was never a Dominic, so I took the next available driver, and went to the train station.
Once there, I hassled Clarence, but each day I seemed to lose a bit more fire. I never could get a ticket, but I watched the others who did. And Clarence was right. No money or credit cards exchanged hands. He consulted his handwritten paper roster. I heard the train whistle come in, sounding joyful, and I heard it leave without me. Then I ate my tuna sandwich.
Sometimes I talked to Clarence. He always wore a baggy white shirt. I told him he looked like Clarence the angel in the movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” He looked puzzled and said he’d never heard of it.”
“What planet do you live on? Everyone has heard of that movie.”
“Obviously, not everyone.”
Then one day he told me he hated the smell of tuna. “Reminds me of the story of Jonah and the whale,” he said. “I bet that’s just what it smelled like in the belly of the big fish where Jonah was for three days and nights.”
I laughed. “So, you don’t know about Clarence the angel, but you do know about Jonah.”
“Why don’t you bring a peanut butter and jelly sandwich like Sarah?”
“Who?”
He sighed. “Just as I thought. You don’t even know you’re not the only one here, do you? Sarah comes every day too. Just like you, she got off the train and can’t wait to get back on. I can excuse her; she’s only six. But you should know better. You have better things to do with your time than wait here every day. You have grown children and sixteen grandchildren you could be spending time with.”
I felt a pang of guilt. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about my family. Even Jerry was more of an afterthought, a shadow. I was so tired by the time he got home every night I barely paid attention to him.
“Clarence! How did you know about…?”
But a tiny hand slipping into mine distracted me before I could ask any questions. “Will you help me find Mommy?”
I looked down into wide brown eyes, and straight dark hair.
“Sarah, honey, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to help you find your mommy.”
Clarence was smiling. “If you want to help her, you can help her.”
“Well of course I want to help her. What kind of person do you think I am?”
I woke up in a hospital bed. Machines beeped softly. The IV in my arm stung, and I had the world’s worse headache. I winced and touched my forehead, but I couldn’t feel it. It was wrapped in thick bandages. Despite the pain, I was starving.
A nurse bent over me, checking my pulse. He wore a baggy white shirt. “Clarence?” I murmured, “I’m so hungry. Can you get me a tuna sandwich?”
He chuckled. “Dominic, go to the cafeteria and bring back one tuna on wheat.”
I smiled at the faint scent of garlic. So, Dominic didn’t drive Uber anymore. He worked at the hospital.
Clarence sat next to me while I ate the sandwich. “I had the strangest dream about you. You were a ticket agent at a train station, and I got kicked off the most wonderful train. I think it might have been headed for heaven.”
He chuckled. “If it was, I’m sure tuna wouldn’t be allowed. I hate the smell of tuna.”
When I woke up again the room was full of medical people. “It’s a miracle!” someone said. “I never thought she’d wake up after that many weeks in a comma.”
“Holy cow,” a nurse said. “Where did this tuna sandwich come from? It’s half eaten. I hope she didn’t eat any of it. She’ll be NPO for a while still.”
“Call Jerry!” Someone else yelled. “I can’t wait to see his face.”
A kind face bent over me. I think it was a doctor. “Welcome back, Joan,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
I was feeling warm, happy, and sleepy, but I had to know before I took a nap. “How’s Sarah? Did she find her mommy?”
“Who’s Sarah?” a nurse asked.
“I have a six-year-old brain injury patient named Sarah on pediatrics,” the doctor said. “She came into the hospital the same day Joan here did, with a very similar injury. And she woke up half an hour ago. I just came from her room. Her mother was crying with joy and holding her hand. But that can’t be the Sarah Joan means. There’s no way she could know about her.”
“Yeah, she’s probably talking about one of her grandchildren,” someone said. “I hear she’s got sixteen of them.”
I tried to tell them about the train station, but I was too sleepy. I’d tell them later if I remembered. Far away I heard a train whistle blow. It was a sweet sound. I’d take that train someday, but I wasn’t in any hurry. Right now, I wanted to see my family.
I looked out into the hallway and pointed. Clarence, Dominic, Danny, and every Uber driver who’d taken me to the station was waving goodbye to me. Dominic called, “See you later!”
I smiled and nodded. The doctor and nurses turned and looked into the hall. “What do you think she’s seeing?” Someone asked.
“Who knows?” the doctor sighed. “These brain injury patients. It takes a long time to heal.”
A nurse said, “I’d still like to know how this tuna sandwich got here.”
“And I’d like to know how this crust of bread got on her hospital gown,” the doctor said.
It was a mystery they’d have to solve themselves. I could still hear them, but I was falling asleep. Maybe I’d tell them later, when I woke up. Maybe I wouldn’t. They might think I was crazy.
The end.
***
These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:
Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Four: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
