Crossing Tracks

            by Adam Miller

 

            Montgomery Spears glances down at the glowing screen of his Motorola phone, his wife’s number already dialed in.  The train car bucks beneath his seat as his thumb hovers over the send button.  A subtle, tense panic rolls through his stomach, and he quickly flips the phone closed. After stuffing the phone back into his trench coat pocket, he picks up the menu in front of him; a waiter approaches from the opposite end of the car. The carpeted floor creaks as he approaches.

            “Have you decided on your order sir?” the portly gentleman asks.

            Monty’s mind was wandering away from the menu and the man’s question. He snaps back to attention, and casually responds, “I need a little more time, thank you”

            With a short bow, the waiter returns to the far end of the deserted dining car. At 9:20 PM, Montgomery has the space to himself, save a handful of late diners, and the waiter serving them. He gazes thoughtfully at the Oregon woods rumbling past, as the roof is hammered by heavy rain drops, and thinks back to the argument he had with his wife only five hours before. Around 5:30 in the afternoon, before he left on his business trip, his beloved began berating him about all the work he left at the house, every single chore, task, and problem. The leaky roof, the dog with a hip problem, not to mention every problem SHE found at work was dropped on his shoulders. 

He thumbs around his pocket, once again finding the silver cell phone. Again he contemplates calling his wife to apologize for leaving on his trip with such short notice, for the leaky roof he didn’t know how to fix, and a dozen other things completely out of his control. The tired haze over his mind tells him to drop the phone, and leave the problems at home for another day. His stomach asks him to avoid another tirade, to not get involved. The thunderclap in the distance commands him to release his hand. The phone drops to a rest at the bottom of his pocket.

            Once again, Montgomery begins to study the menu sitting on the white tablecloth. He picks it up with both hands, holding it before his hungry eyes. He mumbles, “chicken… mur… parmasean… ooh, lamb…,” his eyes scanning the fine print.

            “Hi!”

            His thoughts are interrupted by the voice uncomfortably close to him. Lowering the menu from in front of his face, Montgomery sees where the bright young voice came from. The young girl sitting directly across from him can’t be older than 25, with a gleaming smile stretching clear cross her face. Despite the interruption, a small grin begins to crease along Montgomery’s sharp, unshaven features.

            “I’m Lenora,” the young girl chirps, extending her hand across the table, “nice to meetcha.”  She has freckles across her round cheeks, which makes her deep green eyes stand out. She’s wearing a sunny summer dress; an unnatural contrast to the storm outside. Montgomery is a little wary of her forward nature, but out of intrigue, extends his open hand. Lenora takes his hand, and gives it a few quick jerks, which would suffice for a handshake. 

            “My name’s Montgomery”

            “Nice to meet you, Monty. I saw you sitting all alone over here, thought I’d join ya. It’s only fun to eat with someone else, I always say. I hope you don’t mind”

            Truth be told, Montgomery did mind, at least at first. He tends to keep to himself: likes it that way. But the young spirit across from him was warming his tired soul, and melting his unease. He grins back at her infinite smile, and replies, “It’s not a problem at all.”

            “Great!” she responds, as she grabs a menu with both hands, covering her entire face. Lenora starts mumbling about the lamb and chicken.

            The smile broadens across Montgomery’s face, and a chuckle fills his throat. He picks his menu back up, mirroring his dining partner. He decides that the lamb looks really tasty.

*  *  *

            “But as it turns out, he didn’t even own the car; it was a rental!” Lenora squeaks.

            Monty’s laughter fills the empty dining car. His sides hurt from laughing so hard, tears collect at the edge of his eyes. He saws off another piece of lamb, and places it between his grinning rows of teeth. Lenora’s chicken dish has been reduced to some dripping vegetables pushed to the side and some cheese stuck to her plate. Monty had been laughing at her stories too hard to eat his dinner with any efficiency.

            Lenora giggles through the end of her story, and beams across at a chewing Monty. “So, what are you doing on a train in the middle of nowhere, eating lamb at 10:30 at night?” she inquires, “Goin’ anywhere special?”

            “No, not particularly,” he responds, “ and what’s that about ‘middle of nowhere?’ My grandparents grew up around here!”

“Oops!” she exclaims, flashing an embarrassed grin, “Sorry, I didn’t know”

 Monty waves his hand through the air, “Don’t worry about it, don’t worry. I have a lot of good memories here, is all.  I used to visit my grandpa’s cabin every summer, play in the woods with my brother. He liked it enough to move up to Oregon once he got the chance. I opted for California; nicer weather,” as he gestures out the window as another bolt of lightning flashes across the sky.

             “Haha, Can’t blame you there. So where are you getting off then, baker city? Maybe visit your family?”

            “No, I wish. I haven’t seen my brother in ages. I never get the time off, and he hates visiting my place. Too long a drive, too cheap to fly, you know?” Monty pauses with a short chuckle. “Actually, I’m on a business trip to Kellogg. I have to convince some investors there to support the development of a product my company is designing. My job is to show them that it will be worth the investment, once we can deliver it to them.” Monty looks at her face, and can tell she’s bored by business talk. She sure is sweet for listening, though; and thankful for her chance to talk again.

            “Well wait a sec… if you’re on a business trip, why don’t they send you on an airplane? Doesn’t make a lot of sense bein’ on a train, right?”

            “Well, uh…. Heh, see, it’s kind of embarrassing. I’ve always been scared of flying,” he nervously ruffles the short hairs on the back of his head. “Ever since I saw this movie when I was ten. Pretty dumb, huh?” he braces himself for a bout of laughter at his expense.

            Instead, Lenora simply smiles and responds, “Oh, that’s too bad. At least the train is an adventure, right? Up in a plane, you don’t get to see the country like you do down ere” At that, she gazes thoughtfully out the window at the rain-swept tree-line flying past.

            A soft voice crackles through the speakers in the dining car ceiling, “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, the dining car will be closing shortly. Please enjoy the rest of your meal, and make your way back to your rooms within the next 15 minutes. Thank you.” With a static blip, the message ends, leaving Lenora and Monty alone in the dining car once again.  Monty spears the last carrot on his plate, and lifts it up to his awaiting mouth.

            Once Monty’s plate is empty, Lenora kindly asks, “So, are you dog tired, or do you want to keep talking in my room?”

            Another long look at her face, and Monty cannot see a trace of betrayal behind her kindness. “Sure,” he replies with a smile, “I would love too.”

            At the news, Lenora hops up from her bench seat, and offers her hand to his. “C’mon, it’s this way!” As Monty grabs her hand, he is tugged to the far end of the Dining car, and the two of them brush past the portly waiter.

As Monty is tugged down and along the train, he wonders what might await him in Lenora’s quarters. He doesn’t know what Lenora has to offer him, platonic or otherwise. Truth be told, Monty doesn’t care; he knows that whatever this young beauty brings him, it will pull him away from the monotony of his life. As they slide through the doors from one car to the next, Monty feels a lump in his coat pocket. He seems somewhat perplexed, and reaches down to inspect.

            From his coat, Monty withdraws a silver cell phone, with the time 11:31 glowing on it’s side. He feels as if his insides are turning to ice; his legs grow heavy. The cabin doors begin to wash by, and he stops noticing the whipping wind and rain between each train car. Where am I being taken? What might I do in her room? Sure we’ve had our problems, but can I really do this to my wife? Even she used to be a ray of sunshine, but after a while, she just…

            “Monty?”

            The shimmering voice startles him for the second time that night. This time, it hides traces of concern. He glances at the wall, and notices a golden 83 above a wooden door.

            “Monty, you ok?” Lenora asks, with a slightly pitying smile. “I lost you for a minute there; we’ve been at my room a little while, now. I thought you fell asleep standing up!” she says with a childish laugh.

            Monty halfheartedly returns the gesture with a few gruff chuckles. “I’m fine, Lenora. A-okay.”
            The young woman seems unconvinced by his words. “Monty… you don’t need to worry.” Lenora places her hands in his, and disappear in his oversized grip. She rubs the wedding band on his finger with her thumb. “You don’t need to worry.”

            The tightness Monty felt in his chest begins to thaw. Holding Lenora’s hands, he leans his head towards hers. With his eyes closed, he gives her a light peck on her freckled cheek. The passenger car seems to illuminate against the stormy night, by Lenora’s smile alone. She turns to the door, unlocks it, and throws it open. “Let me tell you about the time I drove all the way to Wyoming!” she says excitedly, pulling a tired, but happy Monty into the room. With a loud CLICK the door shuts, and the chatter inside room is muffled in an instant. The cheery talk is drowned out by the heavy rain drops pattering on the windows lining the passenger car. A bump on the tracks rocks the train lightly.

*   *   *

            Monty glances out the train window, up at the sunny sky over Idaho. He notices the fast            approaching sign which reads Welcome to Oregon!

Hey, a third of the way home. Making good time he thinks to himself, as the train is rocked by another kink in the track. The trip had not gone entirely to plan. The presentation went well enough, but the investors had decided to halve their contributions.

As Monty sits in his rumbling bench seat, he can’t care less. He’s returning home with a new hope for his home life. After speaking with his wife the day before, he thinks things were smoothed over pretty well.  He didn’t mention the friend he’d met on the train; figured it best not to cause waves. As he rides home, and the orchards whipping by turn into thick forest, and the flat landscape turns into thick hedges and hills. He lets out a heavy sigh,  and pictures what his life might turn into, where it’s headed.  He knows he doesn’t need a ray-of-sunshine-lady in his life; just one to show him that he can brighten his own mundane life. As the warm sun beats down on Monty’s face, his heavy eyelids glide shut, and he is rocked to sleep by the gentle clatter of a railroad car.