The Night Train
Private Conversations, Closing the Space Between Us.
I was at the Doctor’s office the other day, and as usual, I am there early. I took one of those rare opportunities to just look around, and not be on my phone. There was a guy, sitting next to me, and soon enough we were the only ones in the waiting room.
“You from around here?” He asked.
“yeah”, I replied, “all my life with a few exceptions”.
He offered further: “I guess I am now too, moved here 52 years ago with my bride. I raised four daughters, and now 18 grandchildren, and 4 great-grandchildren. Wow times flew by”.
I listen for these moments, they seem less common these days with most people constantly on their phones. He certainly wasn’t of the age to be on his phone either, so I took the chance and turned toward him. This could be one of those rare times, when someone is willing to spend the facts of their life, like gold coins, on a stranger like me.
“Well, originally I was from Richland county, born and stayed through high school. Do you know where that is?” He asked. I in fact did, and offered an affirmative, including naming several rivers I had paddled years ago.
“Oh I know those! That’s a good way to stay in shape, you look like a young fella”.
He continues, on my prompting. “What did your family do up there?”
“Well, my folks had a farm up there, man, I loved working the farm. Before school, and especially during the summer time. We had acres. I used to walk the edges, and take one of the dogs my dad had trained to move the cows. People were always dropping dogs, and cats near the farm, figuring we had room for them. Most of the time we didn’t, and had to figure out what to do with them. My Dad would try and train the dogs, sometimes he got lucky and found one good at herding cows. This one dog, man, he could chase the cows back. My Dad would point a hill, far off, you couldn’t see anything there, and tell that boy ‘go get em’. He was sometimes too good, we had a chute, concrete, under the road, and man he’d have the cows all backed on the other side, all bollocks up not know which way to turn!” He laughed.
“Well, one day, after I graduated from High School, that would have been 1967, my Mom calls me over and says, she says: ‘Tom, are you planning on making farming your career’?. Well, my spirit sailed, I sure was, and now here was my chance! Then she says ‘Cause if you are, just know this farm can barely support your dad and me’. Well, let me tell you, my heart sank. That was my whole farming career, lasted all of 30 seconds.” He laughs again, at the irony of it.
“The next day, I went over to the railroad to see about work. And the fella there says, ‘hey are you Bill Higgins boy?’ Well, I wasn’t sure what the right answer was, but figured the truth is always better, and I says, ‘Yeah, I sure am’. ‘Well’, he says, ‘can you start tomorrow?’. I was like well, OK, I guess this is it for me.” He was reminiscing, and he paused for a moment.
“That didn’t last long, I got called up in the draft for the war”, and he took a somber tone. “My friends, all of em, they went too. Some went overseas to fight, some like me, didn’t have to. Stayed State side. I always felt guilty about that, especially when one of them didn’t make it back. Or, they did, in a box.” I just nodded, and offered how that had to be tough.
His story took a jump backwards then: “This one buddy of mine, we ran in High school, the mile, I beat him every day in practice, every single day. But when we went to meets, man, I could not beat him to save my life, he just went hard and didn’t look over his shoulder. he just had that fire, you know?” I offered, I sure did.
“Well, soon after the war, I came back, starting working on the railroad again, and this buddy of mine, well, he invites me over to his folks house, you know before we go out and run around doing our shenanigans.” He grinned. “Well, he had a sister, and I took one look at her and says to myself, ‘boy, you gotta marry this girl, she’s so pretty’. You know those moments, when you just know your life is about to change forever? That was one for me. I just knew it. And sure enough, I got her to fall in love with me, we got married. Moved here, raised our family, never left.” He stated it like, that’s what a man would do, you did the right thing, you took care of the family.
“You ever ride a train?” he asked. I offered only commuter trains.
“Well, let me tell you, you get on a freight train, a night train, and they go out deep in the country, farm land, way past city lights. You can look up, and see god’s creation, stars, shooting stars, the moon cut big as a bone on black sky. You know you are small, when you see that. But you know you are big, when you think of your family”. He seemed content with that.
“I sure miss my wife, but’s she in a better place, that’s what my girls always tell me. No more pain.” He paused. “Cancer took her”. I could only nod.
Reluctantly, I had to go. It was time for me to be seen, so I shook his hand, “Tom Higgins1” he said, “it was sure nice to talk to you”. I said likewise.
A conversation, that took 60 years, and 10 minutes to happen2. A private conversation, to fill the space between us.
Names changed to protect privacy.
I tried to be as faithful to order of events as I could. I took some poetic license on some language and details, but nothing that I believe materially affected the story.
Beautiful piece Marty!