Train Watchers: A Brett Mccarley Locomotive Engineer Story Brett hefted his black railroad grip to his shoulder and shut the door to the motel room behind him. The door clicked as he walked down the short hallway past the ice machine and pushed the button for the elevator that took him down to the desk in the small lobby. He nodded to the clerk, sliding his credit card to her, and signing the papers. “You doing alright Mr. McCarley?” It was her usual question this plump black woman sitting behind the desk. She gave him a smile. This time there was meaning in her words, not just a farewell greeting imparted to a railroad man leaving the place till his return on Monday. “Much Better, Miss Charlotte” he said, relief in his brown eyes, only slightly distracted as he put away his pen and tucked the wallet into the front pocket of his bag. A light, warm fragrance made him look around, Laurie stood beside him, her keys in her hand, her tanned face questioning him. “Are you ready?” He nodded and followed her out to a blue four-door Sedan, its aerodynamic front pointing toward the exit to this railroad sponsored motel. Laurie put her keys in the lock, opened the driver’s side door, and unlocked the passenger side. Brett put his bag in the back seat and took his spot in the front. he settled himself in the car, resting his long legs in the cleaned out floor boards. He clipped the belt in place, the metal latch clicking into its notch as the engine purred into life. “Okay,” Laurie adjusted her mirrors, confidently set herself and the car in gear. She caught Brett’s weary gaze in the mirror. “Are you alright? Just let me know if we need to stop along the way for anything. Rest stop. Food. Watch trains?” Brett smiled a little; it felt good to smile. “Okay,” he chuckled low in his throat. “I will.” Brett felt comfortable here in this woman’s car, she had, after all, seen him at his absolute worst over the last four days. Now he took time off to get better; he was still a little fragile, not sure what would settle and what wouldn’t. today was Thursday, he had been out of commission since Monday afternoon. He took a personal day and now here he was sitting in Laurie’s car, driving back to his home in La Crescenta. Laurie turned on the air and turned the radio station to an easy listening selection. She enjoyed driving; it relaxed her even with traffic and now she looked at him again, he lay back and closed his eyes. His hands lay on his knees, the gold of his wedding ring sparkled in the early morning sun. Seeing him at ease, Laurie remembered his desperate trip to the restroom three days earlier before they went to the hospital. She heard him in distress, then flushing and silence. Five minutes passed. “Brett?” She wondered if he heard his name through the door. No answer. She hated to disturb an obviously ill man, everyone should have some privacy but maybe he wasn’t okay? She cracked the door open a bit, light showed him sitting on the toilet in the small, star bathroom, his hand on his belly, waiting. “Brett?” she questioned. He nodded. Entering the room she saw his face, pale, his hand comforting his stomach. “Cramps,” he said weakly and sighed as his intestines emptied. He sat motionless, dropping his head into his hands. He moved his head, looked at her, his eyes didn’t seem quite right. His face became ashen, his hand pointed to the wastebasket. Laurie reached around and put it into his white knuckled hands. He grasped it, too busy using it to acknowledge her. Laurie watched him being sick, reached onto the sink where his phone lay within his reach. This had gone on long enough; this time his eyes just weren’t right. She looked at his phone, panicking; it was that damn touch screen. She laid it back on the sink and ran into the room grabbing her own phone out of her red bag and dialed 911. It would make her laugh later; that day it just made her crazy. Her friend was sick and she couldn’t even use his complicated phone! Now sitting here, the image of Brett’s face, his hands holding the basket, his head dropped into it combined with the idea of the phone suddenly made her look at him, sitting quietly, much easier now here beside her. Brett saw her far away look, reached out his hand and took her’s. “What are you looking at?” She blinked, startled and laughed despite herself. He chuckled. “You look kind of lost. Like.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s alright. What’s up in that head of yours, Laurie?” “did you know that, poor Brett,” she tried not to laugh, “when I dialed 911 I couldn’t figure out how to use your phone! I knew we had to get you some medical attention, you were so sick, and I couldn’t use your phone! You had to be there; it was one of those moments.” Now he laughed, his face lighted up, he squeezed her hand. “I’m just glad you’re better.” He kept her hand, holding it in both of his, his eyes sparkled, perhaps for the first time since Monday afternoon. “Me, too.” She signaled her lane change and got onto the freeway. Soft piano music surrounded them and she looked over to see that he lay peacefully, half awake. She felt honored to be helping her friend; her special friend that she loved for no reason except that he ran the train. No, it wasn’t that anymore. Yes he knew how to run a train but he was just a nice guy and he was always helping someone. In this casual cab to ground relationship, two minutes at a time, talking, exchanging numbers, waving as he high balled out of the stations, in the hours he had helped her to understand the intricacies of his chosen profession, he had never asked her not to call, or to go away, never reprimanded her for asking too many questions, calling too much, she wouldn’t analyze it so much; it should just remain uncomplicated. Finally he had said he would go to lunch with her when he got to his ending point; he had a coupl of hours before running train number 3 for the day. Now here they were, she drove him back to his house, he slept peacefully now. “Laurie?” She didn’t dare take her eyes off the road; traffic snaked for miles. “yeah. Are you ok?” “I’m fine,” he responded sleepily, looking out the window. Brett looked at his gold wrist watch. “I slept for an hour,” he announced. “where are we?” “we just passed Tehachapi.” “Yeah? You must be hungry” he said, turning, catching her gaze in the mirror. “Am I?”,” she questioned herself. “Are you hungry, Brett?” “Thinking about it,” his word was quiet. “I see a freight train Do you want to stop and look at it? Let’s look at it.” They walked together up a hill to a grassy spot he had directed her to. The train would pass them, soon. Now they sat apart, almost conscious of each other, and yet discretely together, looking into the distance, the engineer kicking to life, something that hadn’t happened for three days. Laurie looked at him, his gaze far away, responding to the approaching lights. Laurie gasped. “What?” “Sd40s.” “You like those GE locomotives, yeah?” “I like all of them,” she explained, “I just recognize those.” Was she train watching with her favorite engineer? She sat looking with him, but maybe keeping her eyes on him and not the train. She loved this man; it was hard for her to explain why. Was it his smile? His words? Did he know it? Now that he was out of distress she didn’t dare reach for his warm hand out of respect for his wedding ring. Was she tempting him by being so close? Was she tempting herself? But he had been desperately sick there was no way he was taking a train back to his origin point that day, and today, well she had time, she might as well drive him back there. The motel,for the last few days, clean, cool, if a little noisy at times had been his refuge. She remembered coming to him, placing small glasses of clear broth In his hand, small glasses of water, the doctor said keep him hydrated. The day he had fallen ill she had left him in the coolness of the air conditioning while she went to the store for him and returned to find him sleeping peacefully. Once, when he returned from his unpleasant business, he went to his grip and fished around in its pockets, returning to her, waiting for her to look up from her magazine. Brett scannd the cover facing him, a signal bridge, something he recognized from his younger days in railroading. “Railroad magazine?” His word made her look up to see him holding out his rule book. “Always keep one with me,” she explained, “just in case I get a chance to look at it.” “Yeah?” He tapped the book, and extended it to her. “You might want to look at this if you’re going to stay.” Her eyes questioned him. “You can stay,” he said gently. “Please stay.” She took the proffered book from his hands, glanced at its title and smiled. Brett tried to smile a little but couldn’t manage it just yet. “You’re the only one I know who is fascinated by the general code, anyone not running trains directly, I mean,” he admitted. “If you get tired of watching the bugs on the wall or I’m not very responsive.” She held the book as if it were a living thing. “I find it fascinating. Maybe just because it’s not my job. Who can explain these things?” Brett nodded with understanding. Their eyes caught for a moment and then he returned to his bed to curl up and sleep through this unhappy time. Laurie got up and went to the air conditioner, adjusting the vent so that the air would flow in his direction. “When I was young, I got really sick,” she explained to her friend. “I couldn’t sleep. So I just lay on my bed and put the fan so that it blew air on my face, not a lot, just softly so I wouldn’t feel so sick.” “Did it help?” he lay there, polite, eyes closed, thinking that the air did help him. If he lay still and concentrated on something other than his misery he imagined that helped, too. “Yes.” She adjusted the air so that it caressed his bearded face. The cool air made him feel better, he said, his eyes did ease a little, that was till it was time for him to take care of his unpleasant tasks. When he lay in the hospital she sat with him as the IV dripped the anti nausea medicine and glucose solution into his system. She was right to call 911 the doctor said, your friend is dehydrated. “Cant’ keep anything down,” she said wearily. “He’ll be alright,” they assured her. “You stay with him. Give him a few days. We’ll write a doctor’s note for him. We tested his blood; he did get some salmonella. Railroad doctor’s going to want to see him.” He lay on the hard bed in the cold gray room, warmed by something familiar, his eyes fluttering open, a pinching in his arm, but definitely feeling better. He moved slightly slowly comprehending where he lay. Laurie had spread the warm rose-colored fleece blanket over him one she had gotten from his bag without his permission, but one that now swathed him in his discomfort. Brown eyes opened quietly, breathing eased, his insides stabilized. His hand comforted his stubble beard, Laurie rested next to him, not touching him. Now, sitting here waiting for the train, she remembered his appreciation, his kindness, glad she could help him. She knew she would need to step back, to assume her passive role as his casual friend. She was honored to take either of those roles. She was honored to know him. Now she watched him as he scanned the tracks, counting the cars. His hand was on her’s, the ring warm against her skin. She did not pull her hand away. Brett moved and sat up straighter now, watching intensely as the train passed, bringing silence with it. “Train meet?” she asked distractedly. “How do you mean?” “Your train meet?” “Oh.” He drew his hand away, maybe noticing that he had placed it on her’s. He looked at his watch, thought about it for a minute. “It is. How did you know?” “It seemed like you recognized the number, the train set.” “Yeah. The hoppers. That’s pretty observant, Laurie. that would be mine. It meets us earlier it just comes this direction.” They sat there for another hour, waiting, watching, perhaps both just distressing from the agony and the intenseness of the last three days. They didn’t talk; they didn’t need to say anything. They just existed side by side, Laurie happy to be here, Brett relishing in the comfort of just feeling good. Who knew! “There’s a restaurant around that corner,” he said to her now, breaking into the tranquil afternoon. “let’s stop and get that lunch we never got. I believe I might be hungry.” “Alright,” she said cheerfully. Brett put out his hand and helped her to her feet. He looked away; she walked beside him down the hill and they drove to the restaurant in silence. She watched as he contemplated the soup in front of him, his eyes promised enjoyment. “You aren’t the only one who got food poisoning,” she said. “I know. Small comfort.” “Train 504’s crew, both of them. 505, 506. Guess they closed that place down for a while, it’sunder investigation.” “Never had trouble there before. Guess that day the usual eggs and bacon just weren’t right.” Brett frowned, the memory of it making him feel a little queasy. “Probably won’t eat that for a while.” “Oh you will, maybe not there. Some of the teachers on a field trip got sick, too. They were getting on your train, they got off a few stops before the final one where I was supposed to meet you.” “That wasn’t a good day,” Brett said, sipping at his iced tea. The soup went down easily; he could feel his strength returning. “After they got off, the freight hit the car stranding us behind it. We sat there for an hour and a half. That’s when I got sick. Alex kept calling me; I didn’t have time to tell him I had gone down to the nose. Finally he found me and called in the emergency. We were stranded behind that freight and so they had time to get a replacement to us. That was the day from hell if there ever was one.” “I met Alex off the train; he came and got me. You told him we were meeting?” “I don’t remember if I did. Did you come to the cab?” “I was walking toward it; he caught me at the first car. I guess you were still getting yourself together. He told me what happened but I heard your call on the scanner, too and I knew you guys were late. I just had someone I know check ACTS and they found you at the signal before the station. I wanted to make sure you were okay, Brett. I wasn’t going to leave you stranded especially if you needed help. If you didn’t I was willing to leave you in peace. But you had finally said we could go to lunch and then you got sick and I just wanted to be there if I was needed.” “You’re a responsible woman.” “I always try to meet people when I say I’m going to meet them. There wasn’t away to communicate with you on the train. And I’m on vacation for two weeks. I had all the time in the world.” “Well, I guess I was lucky then,” sighed the engineer looking at the check. He held it; she reached for it. “I’ve got it. Relax, Laurie. You’ve been through a lot the past few days helping me out. You’re a brave woman. I might have bitten your head off.” “I saw your face when you came out of the cab.” She grew silent for a moment. “I figured I’d deal with that later.” conversation halted as a young woman wearing a black andwhite apron and wearing a name tag that said RACHEL set fresh glasses in front of them. Laurie sipped from her’s, setting it down, the ice clinking in it. Brett looked at his for a moment and put it to his lips. He suddenly knew he was better. He set the glass down and looked at this woman who had given selflessly over the past few days. “You could have kicked me out, I guess,” she said. “Told me to go away.” “I was too ill for that; not in a position to do that, I suppose. Thanks Laurie. Now I just have to drive myself back to Los Angeles on Monday. I’ll be up to it then.” They sat there almost in companionable silence. But now she sat back, concentrating on the picture of a woman dressed in a long, flowing white skirt and blue blouse holding a vase of flowers in both hands. “We’re only an hour out,” she said to the picture. She turned back and watched brett look languidly out the window almost ignoring her. “Brett?” “yeah.” “There’s another train watching spot or are you ready to go home? Alex called Carol and said I was driving you home. Will she be wanting to know when you get home?” “Probably he talked to Debbie, my daughter” Brett said. “Carol’s,” he interrupted himself, looked out the window and brought his gaze back to Lori. “My wife is in a psychiatric facility. She won’t be there.” Suddenly Brett sat back and sighed, his entire body growing easy. He pushed the spoon through the remainder of the broth in his bowl and sipped it. If Lori had seen him in such distress and had not run away maybe he could trust her? It was a painful thing, he didn’t share it with most people. “I see,” his friend responded. “Alex didn’ say anything to me about it.” “Alex doesn’t know. She’s been in since Monday. I don’t have a good marriage on some days, Lori. I guess you know now.” “You don’t have to tell me about it if you’re uncomfortable.” “Thanks,” he said quietly. “We won’t talk about it. Just know that’s the way it is. She’s a good woman sometimes. Now isn’t one of those times.” “Not an easy week then,” she said. He shook his head. “How long have you been married?” “Twenty-five years.” “Do you like working so much?” He thought about it for a minute. He stirred the ice tea with a spoon. “I suppose I do. I’ve always been fascinated with trains. So, as much as anyone does, I guess.” He sat back, sipping from the glass again. “We can go watch trains.” He sat forward. “We’re near the UP line so there will be some. That will be nice.” “I’m at your beck and call, Brett. If you want to sit and watch the trains we’ll do that as long as you like.” Laurie looked at her silver watch. The digital read out said 3:30. “You have a scanner?” She looked up, startled by his words. “You said you heard me on the scanner. Maybe you heard Alex; I wasn’t transmitting after the freight hit the car; I couldn’t. Alex has a good head,” Brett said, remembering. “There wasn’t much he could do for me. He just kept everyone calm. It was about all he could do, really, waiting for the replacement engineer and the investigation in front of us to finish.” “I was sitting with the guys on the platform, the morning train watchers. They knew I was waiting for you and they’re always there. One of them has a scanner. I heard the number and the replacement engineer. That’s what it was.” Laurie watched Brett sign the check and give Rachel his credit card. She looked at her friend and chuckled to herself. “brett, if I ever show up at your train with a scanner…” “You’re hooked?” Brett laughed. “I think you’re already hooked. Come on Laurie. Let’s go watch trains.”
Copyright © 2012 Shelley J Alongi |