As they had approached the little town, Gerald poked his head out the engine’s window.. The pair of hobos were weaving and bobbing on top of a full coal car as they took swings at each other. First one would fall down and start to get up then the other would do the same. Before either could be hurt or killed, the train was stopped, and the local police took them away.
Most hobos peacefully rode the trains. They helped each other survive and picked up the stray pieces of coal that would otherwise go to waste. Barry most didn’t approve of any of the hobos, peaceful or not, on his trains. Gerald felt sorry for a majority of them; they were only trying to survive.
***
BLERT! BLERT! BLERT! Darwin rolled on to his stomach, yanked his pillow from under himself, and clamped it over his head. BLERT! BLERT! BLERT! The noise continued. “Ah, man, shut up!” He shouted half into the mattress and half into his pillow.
After a couple more minutes of the non-stop noise, reality final took a hold of him. It was Monday morning and that was his alarm clock. Darwin sat straight up to see it was already 5:40 am; his work shift started at 6:00 am. He slapped the alarm off and jumped out of bed, only semi alert.
He jammed his legs into the jeans he had worn yesterday. Then in his sleep fogged state he attempted to calculate how best to get to work on time. Mr. Riggs said if he was late one more time, he’d be fired. It takes fifteen minutes to get to work taking his normal route, but only ten if he cut across the train tracks.
He grabbed a rumpled t-shirt from the floor and shoved it to his nose. Phew! He tossed it back on to the floor and grabbed another one. The second one passed the smell test. Darwin yanked it on as he stumbled out into the hallway to the dryer. Blindly, he fished out the first two unmatched socks he touched.
Duke, his black lab, was at the kitchen door whimpering to be let out. “Okay, but you better make it quick or you’re going to be out there all day.” He opened the door and Duke went out like a shot. Darwin dropped to the floor in the doorway and shoved his feet into his socks and shoes. As he stood back up, he shouted out the still open door, “Hurry up old dog!”
Darwin scooped out a cup of dry dog food, and dropped it into the metal dish as he picked up the water bowl. He ran a quick splash of water, then placed in back on the floor. “Hurry up, Duke. I’ve got to go.”
Darwin pulled a beef jerky stick and a crushed package of cheese and peanut butter crackers from an overhead cabinet. He grabbed a Mountain Dew from the fridge. “Breakfast of champions,” he muttered.
Duke was back in the kitchen with the look of ‘give-me-some-attention’. Darwin reached down and gave a quick scratch behind the lab’s ears. “Good boy. I’ll play with you when I get home.” He stuffed the crackers in his t-shirt pocket. Then put the still wrapped jerky between his teeth. And tucked the bottle of pop between his arm and ribs as he stepped out onto the back porch. Duke howled in protest as Darwin pulled the door shut.
***
Gerald checked the log and the time on his phone, then nodded. “Good, a couple of minutes early.” He placed the log book back in its holder and slowed the train. A north bound train would be coming through in about five minutes. That train needed to pass and the switch thrown before he could finish the last hour of his ride.
As the train slowed, the breeze through the engine’s side window withered to nearly nothing. The heat and humidity of the early July morning became less tolerable as he waited. Preferring the fresh air, he’d tough it out rather than turn on the engine’s air conditioning.
A whistle blew in the distance; a small dark dot far down the tracks grew in size as it sped towards Gerald and his train. He was used to Randy running the north route when Gerald ran the south route and vice versa. Today, it wasn’t Randy, it was a younger fellow he had never seen before. Gerald waved to him, but the other engineer didn’t even look his way.
***
Darwin dropped the still closed bottle of Mountain Dew in the floorboard. He hadn’t even cranked the old Ford. “Ah, heck, now I’ve got to eat those crackers with nothing to wash them down.” He picked to bottle up and jabbed it between his legs as he cranked the truck.
The truck lurched forward as he fed it some gas. Dirt billowed up behind as he sped down the dirt road. He tore the corner of the plastic encasing the jerky with his teeth and spit it out the window. He bit into the jerky as he pushed the gas pedal harder.
The truck bounced along the dirt road towards the two lane country highway. The clock on the radio reflected he had eleven minutes left. “Dang dog. I would have a couple more minutes if I didn’t have to mess with him.”
***
The northbound train had finished passing. Gerald released the brake and set the train to accelerate down the switched track. He removed his bandana hankie from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow and the back of his neck. The blue bandana smelled of sweat and showed traces dirt. As he tucked it back into his pocket, the breeze began to cool the interior of the engine car.
A small sliver of sun peeked over the horizon; glinting off the dew covered fields. A light fog gave the farmlands a dreamlike quality. Gerald poked his head out the engine’s window and breathed in the morning air. He debated whether he should drain the rest of the coffee from his thermos. “Ah, why not, I’m off tomorrow anyhow,” he said out loud.
Gerald had decided to spend his weekend in Kansas City and visit an old friend. Maybe he’d get some barbecue the city was so famous for. His belly rumbled as if in agreement.
***
Darwin barely slowed down at the T where the dirt road ended. He had to choose to turn right or left onto a narrow shouldered two lane highway. No cars or farm vehicles in sight. He turned left and floored the gas pedal once all four wheels made contact with the asphalt.
He looked at the clock – nine minutes left. Darwin took another bite of jerky and smacked the steering wheel in frustration. In the distance he could see the red blinking lights and the train crossing arms slowly coming down.
***
Gerald took a quick look out the front window of the engine. Everything was tranquil as usual this time of morning. He fished around in his lunch bag to see what might be left to quiet his rumbling belly – an apple. Not the same a barbecue or even a fresh glazed doughnut to compliment his coffee, but it would do.
He polished it on his shirt sleeve, more out of habit than out of necessity, and took a bite. The sun had climbed a tiny bit higher over the distant hills. A flock of geese flew by in formation. He couldn’t hear them honking encouragement to each other over the engine noise, but he could imagine it.
***
“Seriously! This can’t be happening me. Not today.” Darwin slowed down and looked north and south. The alarm bells clanged; no train was in sight. “Some jerk must have parked a train on the tracks and took a break.”
In the distance on the other side of the tracks was the grain processing plant Mr. Riggs ran. The radio clock showed he had eight minutes. He turned the wheels of the truck and goosed the gas pedal enough to make it around the nearest crossing arm.
***
The train neared a small town. Gerald blew the horn and throttled the engine back to the required slower speed. Then he noticed something in the distance. Was that something on the tracks?
***
Over the clang of the bells, Darwin heard a train whistle and looked up. A train was fast approaching from the north. He looked in the rear view mirror. There was no going back the way he came.
***
Gerald gasped. His heart pounded. He yanked back on the brake as hard as he could. The brake lever wouldn’t move any farther. He sounded the horn again and again.
***
Darwin twisted the steering wheel and hit the gas. He has to get around the other crossing arm. The clock showed he had seven minutes. The truck wheels only spun in place.
***
Sweat beaded up on Gerald’s brow. An old red pickup was sitting with its butt end at a forty-five degree angle towards the train. “Get out of that truck, you fool!” he shouted.
***
“Come on baby. You can do it,” Darwin said. He looked over his shoulder at the oncoming train. His truck seemed to be stuck on the tracks. He couldn’t let the train wreck his truck or be late for work. Darwin pushed the gas hard and spun his wheels more, turning the rear end a little more towards the train.
***
Please, get out of that truck. Run, thought Gerald. The train was now several football field lengths from the truck. It was still going forty-five miles an hour. He could see the driver in the truck; he wasn’t getting out to make a run for it.
***
The train horn blared and brakes screeched.
***
The truck engine revved, the wheels spun and smoked.
***
Boom, the two solid masses collided. Crunch, the truck metal crumpled. Crash, the glass shattered.
***
Then only sound left was the clanging of the train crossing bells.
J K Metz 