This is a work of fiction any similarities between the characters, events, or locations in this story and actual locations, events, or people are purely coincidental.
© 2007 Warlord
Traveling by rail on the Empire Builder from Chicago to Seattle along the Canadian border. I paid for a roomette in the sleeper car but the tiny compartment does not suit my mood. Instead I sat in the observation car, dozing in the chair as scattered North Dakota farm lights pierced the dark with the train’s horn moaning at each crossing as we rocket across the lonely landscape.
Finally at Wolf Point I wander the platform stretching. Under way again, its time to head for the dining car and have another excellent meal as I marvel at the waitresses’ ability to carry a fully laden tray when the speeding train is swaying so much the rest of us can barely walk upright!
The train rolls into Havre in the early afternoon, I begin to sense unease on the platform. Nothing overt. You have to be paying attention but the train crew is nervous as they cluster together and a deputy sheriff carrying a shotgun stands by his squad car next to the tracks.
After the usual admonition to: “stay close to the platform so you hear the announcements, this is only a short stop” I walked around looking at the big steam engine and the various statues and plaques but at the 45 minute mark the passengers were restive and even Gregory the usually gregarious attendant for my sleeping car was talking only to other crew.
When the second Sheriff’s car arrived after we were over an hour idling at the station and “he” un-assed the car with a Mini-14 in hand, it was time to find out: “What the fuck, over!”
I sauntered up to the two vehicles, slow and easy, with my hands nicely in view and my very best friendly smile. The younger one, he with the pump gun asked: “Yes, sir, can I help you?”
Observing that the younger one was sweating so hard that he was unconsciously taking his hands off the gunstock and wiping them on his pants while the older one, who to my ancient eyes looked for all the world like he might be out of junior high by now, was wound as tight as a cheap watch with his knuckles white on the stock of that Ruger rifle should have warned me, but oh well. .
I kept on smiling as I quietly, slowly and pleasantly asked: “Perhaps you could answer a couple questions, please?
Even with the tip off I wasn’t prepared for the reaction. He slapped the slide back on his rifle with his left hand as he came to high port arms scowling at me, he barked: “Sir, step away from the car and return to the platform! Now, SIR!”
His companion looked over with some alarm saying: “Rocky, what the hell are you doing?”
I froze watching the one he called Rocky as his eyes darted between his partner, the platform, and me.
Right that second I was pondering curiosity, dead cats, and what looked like a forty round mag on that Ruger. Immobile I waited still working that friendly smile for all it was worth.
Frowning furiously Rocky lowered his rifle slightly as he said: “Fuck Neil, I don’t know what to do.”
Neil looked apologetic as he said: “Sir there’s…”
His voice trailed off as the whistle of the eastbound Empire Builder sounded behind him. Okay, this was beyond odd even took my mind off the very confused guy holding the loaded gun more or less threatening me.
Normally the westbound and eastbound trains on the same run don’t arrive at the station simultaneously. Yet here we were. Crew number 7 stopped in Havre with crew number 8 rolling up. Odder still, crew 7 showed every indication of backing up the westbound Empire Builder allowing the eastbound train to park nose to nose sharing the siding and platform.
Glancing back at Rocky and Neil as they stare in horror. Well no shit! They live right here on the Hi-Line and they both know -- you do not park the train bound for Chicago engine to engine with the train bound for Seattle. Not while maintaining a schedule along a two thousand mile route. You just DON’T!
Taking a slow step backward as I softly say to no one in particular “Gentlemen, I’m going right now but in a minute they are going to let those eastbound passengers off the train. They are going to hit the platform joining the westbound folks who’ve been standing around for over an hour.”
Pausing I speak even softer: “Gentlemen, all those people are going to seriously question what’s going on.”
One slow step to the side as Rocky barked: “Hold it!”
My head snaps around as he asks in a quieter tone: “Can you wait a minute?”
He raises a placating hand as he continues: “I gotta call in. We aint supposed to say nothing. But you’re right. In about a minute all hell is gonna break loose.”
*****