The Christmas Train (14 page)

“What is going on,” said a voice, “is that a freight train is on the tracks up ahead blocking the Cap’s way, that’s what.”

Tom looked in the direction the voice had come from. In the far corner of the lounge car, in the darkness, was the silhouette of a man. As the figure rose and seemed to float toward him, Tom thought he was about to encounter the Ghost of Christmas Past, who was coming to foretell his future of doom.

When the fellow came into the small wash of ambient light from the window, Tom let out his breath. He was tall in stature and lean, salt- and pepper–haired, about sixty or so, with handsome, chiseled features; he clearly would have turned many a young lady’s head in his prime. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt, tie, and dress slacks. He was also wearing what looked to be a conductor’s cap.

“Do you work on the train?” asked Tom. He was looking at the man’s hat.

“No,” he said, taking off his cap and shaking Tom’s hand. “Although I used to. Retired now. Name’s Herrick Higgins.”

Tom introduced himself and they sat down.

“You say there’s a freight train up ahead? So why don’t they get it to move out of the way?”

“Well,” said Higgins, “the easiest explanation is that Amtrak doesn’t own the track, the freight company does, so freight takes priority over people.”

“Are you serious?”

“Amtrak doesn’t own any of the tracks it runs on, except along the Northeast Corridor and other bits here and there. When the private train companies gave up passenger rail, they weren’t about to give up their tracks. You see, rail freight is very profitable, hauling people isn’t. Amtrak has arrangements with a whole hob-gob of folks. And sometimes it’s a logistical headache.”

“No offense, but that doesn’t sound like a great way to run a railroad,” commented Tom.

“Amtrak was never appropriated the funds to either buy the tracks or build new ones. Its only choice was to deal with the owners. So if a freight train gets backed up or derails, we wait. Happens all the time, and we really can’t do anything about it. Sorry, I keep saying ‘we’; old habits die hard.”

“How long were you with Amtrak?”

“Sometimes it seems like my whole life. I was actually around when it started up in ’71. Been a railroad man since I took my first breath, just like my father was. He worked the UP, the Union Pacific.”

Higgins looked at Tom’s cup of coffee and smiled. “Sleep comes slowly if at all on the first night on a train, but the second night, you’ll sleep through anything, trust me.” He looked out the window. “This route is laid over what used to be a turnpike. George Washington owned stock in the turnpike company. I often wondered what the father of our country would say, seeing the old Cap running up and down that same path. But maybe not much longer. Future doesn’t look too good for long-distance passenger trains. Government’s talking about busting Amtrak up, privatizing, spinning off the Northeast Corridor.”

“Well, America is such a large country, train travel just doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Higgins eyed him. “You’re right, train travel as presently configured in this country doesn’t make a lot of sense. Amtrak folks are some of the most creative and dedicated souls there are; they have to be to get by on shoestring budgets and old equipment. They say rail travel is a financial drain. Well, I wonder what it’s worth to the environment to get ten million polluting cars off the highway or a bunch of noisy jets from over the top of people’s homes. Did you know that the United States spends more on cleaning roadkill off the highways than it does on passenger rail?”

“True, but passenger rail is subsidized, the airlines aren’t.”

“Did the airlines build the airports? Do they pay for air traffic control? Fact is, the airlines have been given tens of billions of dollars by Uncle Sam and they still barely make any money. The highways get over eighty cents out of every transportation dollar and the result is we keep building roads and we keep buying gas-guzzling cars to drive on those roads and we’re one big traffic jam and dependent on foreign oil. With just a one-penny-per-gallon fuel-tax fund, Amtrak could build a world-class passenger-rail system, but the government won’t give it to us. Ironically, this country was built by rail. Connected the east to the west and made America the center of the world.”

Higgins put his hat back on and adjusted it with a practiced hand. “I hear that they’re working on a commercial aircraft that will be able to fly seventeen thousand miles an hour. You could actually commute daily to Europe for work.”

“Well, that has appeal.”

“Oh, sure, if you’re into the destination only as opposed to the trip itself. It’s been my experience that most folk who ride trains could care less where they’re going. For them it’s the journey itself and the people they meet along the way. You see, at every stop this train makes, a little bit of America, a little bit of your country, gets on and says hello. That’s why trains are so popular at Christmas. People get on to meet their country over the holidays. They’re looking for some friendship, a warm body to talk to. People don’t rush on a train, because that’s not what trains are for. How do you put a dollar value on that? What accounting line does that go on?”

Higgins fell silent, rubbing his chin and looking at the floor. “I’m not saying that riding the train will change your life, or that passenger rail will be a big moneymaker one day. But no matter how fast we feel we have to go, shouldn’t there be room for a train, where you can just sit back, take a breath, and be human for a little while? Just for a little while? Is that so bad?” chapter seventeen

As Tom left Herrick Higgins sitting there in the dark and walked slowly back to the sleeper cars, the Cap started up again. Over the sounds of the rolling train he heard something else. Something that made him race down the hall and clamber down the stairs as he followed the source.

There, sitting against one of the bulkheads was Julie, sobbing, and Eleanor sitting next to her, her arms around the younger woman.

“What’s going on?” asked Tom.

“I’m not sure,” said Eleanor. “I just found her like this.”

In a voice often halted by sobs, Julie explained that Steve’s parents had called. They’d found out what the couple was planning and had threatened to both disown and disinherit Steve if he married Julie. Steve, apparently, hadn’t been very decisive in telling them he was going ahead with it. In fact, he’d started to waffle so much that Julie and he had had a serious argument and she’d fled her fiancé to cry her heart out.

“Where is he?” asked Tom.

She told him that Steve was back at his compartment.

“Take care of Julie, I’m going to see him.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Eleanor.

“Stop him from making the mistake of his life.”

Tom stalked off and soon found young Steve staring forlornly out the window of his compartment. For the next ten minutes, he read the younger man the riot act, and voices and tempers flared on both sides, until Tom finally asked, “Do you love her? Do you? It’s really that simple.”

“Yes,” Steve said without hesitation.

“Then you take her without reservation, disclaimer, parental demands, or otherwise. You take her as she is with all her faults, weaknesses, idiosyncrasies, and requirements. You take her without qualification, with no strings attached by anyone else, because that’s what loving someone means. If you let that woman out of your life, you’re a fool. She’s given up as much as you, if not more. This may be the only shot you have at happiness. She may be the one woman in the entire world who you will love and who will make you happy. If you blow it, there’s no going back, Steve, trust me.”

“I love her, Tom, I really love her.”

“Then that’s all you need, that’s all you need.”

Steve looked past him. Tom turned, and there was Eleanor and a red-faced Julie. They’d apparently heard pretty much everything. Julie flew to Steve’s embrace. Tom stepped out and closed the privacy curtain. As he and Eleanor walked back, she said, “That was a good thing you did. I’m impressed.”

“Why sit around and watch someone mess up his life?”

They were going through the darkened dining car when Eleanor gasped, screamed, and then pointed. Under one of the tables, two eyes were peering out at them.

“What is that?”

At that moment a depressed-looking Kristobal came into the diner. When he saw Eleanor, he said, “God, Eleanor, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Max is going to cut my salary. Can you talk to him?”

“Why is he cutting your salary?”

“Oh, because of a little misunderstanding about a pair of sunglasses I lost.”

“His?”

“No, mine. They cost—”

He looked where Tom was staring and screamed louder than Eleanor had. Jumping on one of the tables, he yelled out, “What is that?”

Tom crept forward for a closer look. About the time he started to smile, Regina had come racing up in her robe.

“What’s going on now?” she asked.

Tom was squatting in front of the table where the two eyes still peered out. “We have a visitor here, and I don’t think it has a ticket.”

When Regina saw the two eyes she drew back and clutched at her robe. “What is it?”

“A stowaway of the reptilian variety. Do you have a flashlight, a cardboard box or a Styrofoam ice chest, and a spare blanket?” asked Tom.

She ran off and was back shortly with an ice chest, blanket, and flashlight. Tom poked a couple of air holes in the chest, then shone the light under the table; that caused the creature to draw back in fear. Tom smiled.

“Okay, Kristobal,” he said, “position yourself so that if it takes off, it won’t get past you.”

Kristobal remained on the table. “Are you insane? I’m not getting anywhere near whatever that is.”

Tom looked at Eleanor.

“Okay, okay,” she said, “but I’m making no promises.” She positioned herself at the other end of the car and looked at Tom expectantly.

“Here we go,” he said. Using the blanket, he was able to corral the critter and put it in the chest, but not without it almost getting away. Actually, it had made a beeline for Kristobal. The young man screamed so loudly it was now likely every citizen of Pennsylvania was fully awake.

“What is it?” said Eleanor, who hadn’t gotten a good look at it.

“A boa constrictor, a young one, about four or five feet long. Beautiful markings.”

Eleanor said, “I have several friends in LA who have them as pets.”

Kristobal just stared at her blankly. “This is a nightmare. All I wanted was my sunglasses and my same salary, and instead I’m almost killed by—by that thing!”

Eleanor smiled. “Kristobal, you love animals. You have a pet too.”

“A Jack Russell terrier, Eleanor. Don’t you dare compare my little Hemingway to that... to that serpent from Hell.”

Eleanor said, “That’s got to be somebody’s pet. It’s not like boa constrictors are indigenous to Pennsylvania.”

Tom agreed. “Probably got out of its cage and was scared to death.”

Regina said, “I guess I’ll take charge of it and find out whose it is. Can’t be too many people on board with a snake. At least I hope not.” She didn’t look too happy about taking the boa, thought Tom, and then he had a sudden brainstorm to rival anything Max Powers could come up with.

“I tell you what, Regina, let me hold on to him for a bit while you check to see whose it is.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“There’s a special friend on board I’d like to show it to.”

“Well, okay, but just don’t let him loose.”

Tom looked over at Kristobal. “You can come down now.” The man gingerly crept off the table. “You said you were looking for your sunglasses,” said Tom. Kristobal nodded. “Well, my pen is missing, and so is Father Kelly’s cross.”

“My silver brush has disappeared too,” said Eleanor.

“And Mr. Powers said his gold-plated money clip is gone too,” added Kristobal.

“And remember that creep Merryweather is missing some stuff,” added Tom. “I think we do have a thief on board.”

Regina rubbed her forehead. “Why me, Lord, why me?” She wrapped her robe around her more closely and said, “Okay, I’ll file a report with the Amtrak police when we get into Chicago. They’ll probably need to talk to you, get your statement too. I’m sorry. This is pretty rare, I have to tell you. Most people leave valuables out all the time with no problem. I’m really sorry.”

She wearily trudged off, and Eleanor said, “What are you going to do with the boa?”

Tom smiled. “I told you, show it to a special friend.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see. Come on, Kristobal, we’ll need you.”

“Look, I’m not getting in trouble over some snake. I never wanted to take the train in the first place. I mean, Mr. Powers has his own jet, for God’s sake.”

Tom said, “Just do what I say and it’ll be fine.”

A few minutes later, outside Gordon Merryweather’s compartment, someone peered in and saw that the lawyer was lying in the dark solely in his underwear, his brief of choice being the blue bikini style. The man hadn’t bothered to lock his door.

Kristobal and Tom crept forward on their knees and placed the ice chest on its side. Tom had explained all about Merryweather to Kristobal, and he’d reluctantly agreed to help. Tom slowly opened the door and lifted the top off the chest. Both men heaved, and the boa went slithering into the compartment. Tom reached in, hit the switch by the sink, filling the room with bright light, and then slid the door closed.