Train to Nowhere
Written By Sunnie Day
Copyright 2011 - Sunnie Day
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Table of Content
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
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Introduction
Dusty Robbins lost everything. He packed everything he owned in a duffel bag and headed out of town on foot to find his life. He soon discovered the love of his life and a life he could only imagine in his dreams; He took the train to nowhere and found a new life somewhere.
Chapter 1
It felt as though I had been walking for days, my old feet hurt. My old black boots were not use to this mileage. I did not dare take them off, as I was afraid, I would not be able to get them back on. With each step, I attempted to push the memory of that dead end town out of my head. My best bet was to keep walking, and not look back. I knew eventually that I would end up somewhere and that was exactly what happened. That train to nowhere took me somewhere, and this was my story.
As I walked out of town with my duffel on my back, I imagined to myself, how did I get here? I lost my job, my wife, along with my dog almost coincidentally. Did I possess a sign on my back that said kick me until I could not get up?
Whoever had placed a mark on this old man, did not know me very well at all! I was hurting, and God knows I wanted to drown in my misery at least for another month or two, but I was the only one who could pull me up from the circumstances that were dealt me.
Looking back on the events of that morning, I wondered if I had packed all that I needed.
I grabbed my old Army duffle bag, throwing in a few changes of clothes, a flashlight, some food, a hunting knife, and a wool blanket. I believed that would be all I needed. If I did not have it, I believed the good Lord would provide it for me, should he be looking down on me. I was feeling a little sorry for myself.
I locked the door to the house, which was going to be taken by the bank any day, threw the keys in the bushes, and relieved myself on the rose bushes. This was my last attempt to say goodbye and good ridden to my dead end life.
I began walking through town, passing by all too familiar markets. There was the appliance store that Mr. Smith ran. I nodded my head, as he looked out the door, but I kept walking. Mrs. Rucker was manager of the bakery, and I could see she was being the typical busy bee that morning. She attempted to get her daughters attention by grabbing her arm, pointing at me, as I walked by.
The gossips whispered as I walked by, but I could care less. I knew I would be yesterday’s news soon. Some other unsuspecting fool would be the target next week. I saw the so-called acquaintances observing me, as I walked out of town. No one stopped me and no one waved goodbye to me. I knew at that moment, I was a free man.
I followed the long stretch of railroad ties that led out of town. There was not a soul in sight, just a long winding desolate path. Where does a 55 years old man go when he has failed at everything?
I was working at the local post office. It was not a great job; however, it had provided for my family for many years. It paid the bills and allotted us a home. My wife Lucy had been my high school sweetheart but not so sweet after the first five years. We had the two children who were grown and living on their own. They called from time to time but were busy with their own lives.
Lucy was what I called high maintenance. She was one to want her hair done up, nails manicured, and God forbid she ever got her hands dirty. Most of the time, I would come home from work to an empty house. I would fix my meal, dine alone, and head to bed. Lucy had been telling me for years that I was nothing, and would never amount to anything. I guess I stayed because I was like an old devoted dog with no common sense.
About two months ago, I discovered my “inappropriate Lucy” had not been paying the mortgage, but was tucking it away, only to run away with Earl, the water guy. Could she at least have chosen Ben the mechanic?
Earl was one ridiculous looking fellow. He thought he was Joe Q. He strolled around town in starched khaki pants, a white shirt, with a sweater over his shoulders. He thought he had stepped out of some man’s magazine; He was a water meter reader for goodness sakes! How absurd did he look?
Lucy was not any better. She wore so much makeup that I could not recollect what her face looked like. Now that I think about it, perhaps those two were a match. I arrived home one day to discover a note saying that Lucy and Earl had left town together. About a week later, my dog Buddy ran away with a poodle down the street. Good for you Buddy!
My job was the last thing to go. Layoffs were discussed for some time; it was only a question of when. Early retirement was an option, but the thought of being home with Lucy all day frightened me. It made me down right nervous. I decided to keep working until they gave me the boot. I received notice that I would be getting my early retirement paper work in the mail.
Lucy was gone but truthfully, I needed a change. I had to get out of this dead end town. I decided to abandon my old car, as it was in need of repair, but not worth the aggravation. I had the two good feet and that would be my mode of transport.
I became a walking, 55 years old man with a few bills in my pocket, no home, no wife, no dog, no car, but finally free from a life that I loathed anyway.
I have to profess; I felt good, aching feet, and all. As I walked along the rail, I thought to myself, no more mortgages, no more Lucy, not to mention any more worries. I looked up to see a train sitting at the station. I was feeling my heart tug just a bit. Possibly this was what I was supposed to do. I could get on the train and ride this rail to nowhere land.
It had to be better than here. I looked around, and there was not a soul in sight. I pulled the big heavy boxcar door open, pulling myself up into the car. I discovered a few farm animals had taken up residence as well. There was a goat, a couple sheep, and a horse. I looked to my left, and there was some hay calling my name for a good long nap.
I took off my boots; dipped my dirty, sore feet in their drinking water. I felt instant relief. I leaned back on to the hay, and pulled my hat over my eyes. I was about to fall asleep, when I opened one eye, surveying my surroundings one more time. I began to talk to myself, a train to nowhere, eventually, would be going somewhere, and that was where I wanted to be. I closed my eyes, and drifted into a deep sleep. Gordon Lightfoot’s “Steel Rails” song ran through my mind.
“And the big steel rails won’t carry me home to the one I love.”
Little did I know the love of my life, would be waiting at the end of the track.
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“Come on!” said Amy as she tried to get the old Ford pickup to turn over.
“I have a train to meet today. I cannot be late!”
Amy grumbled under her breath as she had done so many times since Matt’s death. He was the one who had the magic touch to get ole Sally started. Amy did not have the patience or the time.
“Sally, I am going to tell you one more time, get your butt in gear!”
Just as Amy slammed her left hand down on the steering wheel, turning the key with her right, old Sally started up, as if to say, “alright, already!”
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Chapter 2
I was suddenly alarmed when a splash of water hit my face!
“Hey, are you alright?” She said, with an annoying tone.
I opened my eyes to behold this woman squatted down beside me. She was close enough to smell her breath. I could not help but notice her big brown eyes. I watched her
reach into the bucket of water that the animals had drank from, and where my dirty feet had found relief. She once again dispensed one more splash on my face.
“Hey... I am awake, please no more water!” I said angrily.
“You better get going, whoever you are, I am fixing to unload these animals, and you do not want to be caught up in here!”
I stood up and stretched, attempting to get my bearings. Yawning, I looked at the woman who was now feeding the animals.
“Ma’am, can you tell me where we are?”
She looked at me with a smirk painted on her face, and a pretty one at that I thought to myself.
“I know where I am but there is no “we” in this question. If you want to know, where “you” are, well… you are outside of Alamogordo, New Mexico.”
She looked at me in curiosity, and I knew she wanted to ask me a few more questions but she did not. Grabbing my duffel bag, I turned and jumped down off the boxcar.
“Hey! Mr. Nowhere Man, do you need some work?” she asked.
Turning around, and without thinking, I said, “I guess I do… what you have in mind?”
Without hesitation she said, “The first thing you need to do Mr. Nowhere Man is to help me get this livestock off the train and into my trailer, then we can talk.”
I looked at her and offered a big salute, “Yes Ma’am, at your service.”
She shook her head, obviously unimpressed. I thought to myself, this was going to be a long journey for sure. We guided the animals off the train into a cattle trailer, towed by an old green Ford pickup. This woman hopped into the driver’s seat, and started the truck.
I stood outside the truck, not knowing if I should jump in or wait for the invitation. This little woman was not inhibited and had some boldness about her. After a few minutes of letting me bask in this awkward state, she opened her side of the truck door, and stood on the outside of the driver’s door.
She peered over the pickup at me, and pronounced, “Either you get in, Mr. Nowhere Man, or you’ll have to ride with the livestock, your choice!”
Hurriedly, I threw my duffel in the back of the pickup, opened the passenger door, and slid in. The last thing I wanted to do was make this woman angry. Being left for the coyote’s evening meal was not on my bucket list.
We continued to ride in silence, which set the tone for a long journey. I decided to be a little brave and ask her name. If I was going to drive to God knows where and work-doing God knows what, I thought I should at least know her name.
I took a deep breath, and proceeded to ask, “So, may I ask you your name?”
She looked at me with that same smirk, which by now was becoming her trademark. Her one eyebrow went up and her big brown eyes began to stare a hole through me. I had to wonder, why she was playing games with me. It was almost as if she knew the rules, and I had to figure them out as I went.
For an old mail clerk, I was not used to games such as these. The most excitement I had in years was the annual parade in which I drove the float for Miss Spring Hoe. My arm was out the window resting, I had my shades on, and one hand on the wheel. I had to admit I felt important at that moment.
This was something different and I was not sure how to play her games, as it had been too long. She took forever to answer, which made me squirm. I had no doubt that this was her intention. It was not as if I was asking for money, her phone number, or some other favor.
She then said, “My name is Amy Reynolds,” putting my thoughts to rest.
I smiled out of pure relief, I replied, “Happy to meet you Amy Reynolds, my name is Dusty Robbins.”
Amy looked over towards me and for the first time I could see her teeth, she was smiling. Yep, she was definitely playing games. We turned off on to some old beaten down path and I could not tell which direction we were headed. I could see that by the angle of the sun, it was close to noon.
The old Ford pickup did not have any air conditioning, so the windows were down, the roads dusty and bumpy. The radio was playing and I leaned my head back, as I rested my arm out the window, soaking in the words of an old tune playing on the radio.
I closed my eyes, as I heard the old Paul McCartney song, which touched my heart a little deeper.
“The long and winding road that leads to your door will never disappear; I’ve seen that road before.”
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Chapter 3
I gazed over to see Dusty fast asleep, wondering, what I was doing, bringing a strange drifter home with me. It had been five years since Matt’s death; however, it still felt as if it were yesterday. Certainly, I had not become so lonely, that I resorted to picking up middle-aged men. Granted, I was no spring chicken myself, I was pushing 50, but having a man was the last thing on my mind.
There was work to do, and I was afraid as each day passed, I was falling more and more behind. There were fences to mend, a roof to repair, land to plow, and not enough hours in the day for me to get it all done on my own.
I thought about selling the place and moving back to Phoenix. I had no idea how hard it would be to get back into the corporate world. Deep down, that was the last thing I wanted. Matt and I both were so knee deep in that fast-paced lifestyle, that it almost tore us apart.
We made the decision to leave it all. We bought some land near Cloud Croft, a little mountain town outside Alamogordo. We could veer off the main road, taking the dirt path all the way to our home. It was our little piece of heaven in the desert. We built our little house with our own hands. We were the happiest we had ever been. There was no cable, no phones, just the two of us, sharing the moonlight at night under the desert sky.
We were settled for two years when Matt got sick. I knew something was not right. I tried to get him to go to the doctor. The news “stage four pancreatic cancer” still rang in my ears. The cancer took him from me within six months. My whole world stood shaken. I had not been up that mountain for over five years.
We had a good savings and one that would keep me afloat for a long while. I was self-sufficient out here and had a large garden, chickens, pigs, a few sheep, and goats. I had the one horse named Trump. Matt used to say Trump would always remind us of the life we left behind. When I got down, I would ride Trump, as he was my best friend.
Today I was picking up several livestock but I sure did not expect to pick up a grown man too. I believed I had made a terrible mistake bringing this man home. For a brief moment I thought if I slowed down, I could reach over, grab the door handle, and give him a swift kick out the door. I was sure he would be all right. He would not know what hit him. He could follow the dirt road back, taking him to the main road that would lead him into Alamogordo.
Mustering the courage, I reached across Dusty’s chest and grabbed the handle. He was not wearing a seatbelt, as this old truck did not have any, so this would not be too threatening. I lifted the handle, when suddenly I heard this tune, oh God not now, please not this song.
The Eagles was Matt and I’s favorite group. “Peaceful Easy Feeling” was a song that played the night we made love under the stars for the first time. No city lights, no noise, just me, Matt, with the desert moon. Matt what are you trying to tell me? Whose side are you on anyway?
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Chapter 4
The old truck hit one big bump and my head swung back, hitting the back of the window hard. It woke me up abruptly from my sleep. I was a little startled to find Amy’s arm stretched across my chest and her hand planted firmly on my door handle. I looked at her a little puzzled, and wondered what she was doing. Rubbing my sore head, I waited for an explanation.
Amy quickly jerked back her arm and nervously said, “Yep its good! It is secure, you never know with this old beast. I did not want my hired hand falling out the door and breaking something.”
With both hands on the wheel, and her eyes as big as saucers, she glared straight ahead and we continued the drive.
I
attempted to break the ice once more. “I have not heard this song in I cannot tell you how many years, it’s the Eagles right?” I asked, attempting to make small talk.
Amy appeared kind of agitated all a sudden, without any hesitation; she turned the radio off, and made some kind of remark like, “I would not know.”
I decided to just sit tight and not say a word the rest of the drive. We drove a few more miles and I could see the sun was starting to fade. The colors in the desert sky were magnificent. I had never seen anything so beautiful, except for the disgruntled female driving this old Ford truck.
It took us much longer than I thought to get to our destination but with the trailer hooked up to this old pickup, and those bumpy back roads, it was slow maneuvering for sure.
“Here we are,” said Amy, as she made one last right onto an even more rugged dirt path.
On the right was a small house made of wood, surrounded by a charming porch. A large yellow dog was lying on the porch, and did not pay us any attention. To the left was a corral with a large black horse, a small red barn, chickens busy pecking around, some goats, and many other farm animals roaming about, I believed I saw a couple of pigs. Honestly, I thought Amy had a zoo. It looked like a small-scale farm.
I sat there taking it all in like a newborn baby, looking beyond the little house, admiring the mountains in the distance. I had never seen anything so magnificent. It looked like a painted landscape. It was the most breath-taking site I had ever witnessed. I thought about the big brick home I had lost, but it could not hold a candle to this extraordinary sight in front of me.
Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly heard Amy knocking hard on the passenger door. “Are you just going to sit there Mr. Nowhere Man, or are you going to help me unload these animals?”
Wow, I thought to myself, this woman had some spice! I noticed her hair was pinned up under an old western hat, but curly locks of silver outline her face, she was wearing skintight jeans, old brown boots on her feet, and a blue t-shirt that fitted fine around her small frame. Amy was wearing no makeup that I could see. Her sun tanned face was exquisite to me. She was nothing like the made up women that used to come in the post office and unlike the one, I was so fortunate to have been married to all those years.
Jumping out of the truck, I gave her one of my star-studded grins, and like a giddy schoolboy, I said, “Okay ma’am, what do I need to do, I am at your service!”