The Train (Short Story)

The Train by John Coffee (6JUN2002)
I still remember those warm summer afternoons as if they were yesterday. My dog Rex and I playing in the fields all day long, on the farm my folks owned on the edge of town. There was always a smell in the air of the flowers and grass, which made you feel like everything was just the best and it was.

Rex and I could play for hours each day. He and I enjoyed the afternoons the most though. You see the Erie railroad used to run along the river across the field from the house here, and Rex he knew when the trains were comin'. He would let out three barks and away we would run to the bluff at the edge of the field. We'd be up on the bluff over looking the tracks in record time.

Sure enough, you could just see the smoke of those great big diesel engines comin' up round the bend. The first thing you would see were those beautiful engines. Yes beautiful, sleek and blue with silver and gold trim. Mr. Foster who managed the bank in town owned a brand new blue Cadillac, but it was not as pretty as the engines the old Erie owned.

We'd run up there and catch the local freight and count all the cars. We knew every type of car on the train, tank cars, boxcars, refrigerated cars, flat cars, even the stock cars with all the cows in them. I must say it was I that counted all the cars, Rex could tell you when the train was a comin' but he was not too good at rithmatic.

We would stay long enough to catch the evening express as it headed out of town for the day. It was the passenger train, with all the sleek streamlined passenger cars painted up to match those pretty engines. Then we'd run back across the field for the night and have supper.

By then dad would be home for the day, and he would ask how many cars were on the freight. He always knew how many because he worked for dispatch on the railroad. If Rex and I had counted right, it meant we had Ice cream for dessert. There was always a bonus question too, like how many of a certain car? or was there a special purpose car on the train? If you answered that right you also got chocolate syrup.

Dad was a great guy, I remember once that Rex and I had counted wrong. We still had ice cream for dessert. But we did not get the chocolate syrup; we had some of those candy sprinkles instead. Then dad made us study our rithmatic book for an extra hour. Boy, Rex and I sure counted better the next time.

Well as in all things that happen in life, times change and things come and go as we move on. I finished school and left to go to college. Then became involved in a war in Asia, when I returned dad was quite proud of me. We went down and caught the freight train and counted the cars. Things were very different that day, I had to say goodbye to my best friend Rex, he had passed on while I was in the Army and away. Dad buried him and planted some flowers to mark the spot up on the bluff where we used to be every afternoon.

I moved to the city, got a job and had a family, and quite proud of my three children. My oldest is married now and has a boy; he has a puppy named Rex. I wonder who suggested that name? My grandson also likes trains too. His dad and I bought him a big train set for Christmas one year and he just loves it. I of course found the old Erie engines and passenger cars for him to run on it, he calls the train the "Grandpa special". It runs only when I come by to visit.

The Erie railroad disappeared with time and over the years I got back to visit only on holidays and vacations. Last I had seen Conrail had taken over the line, the engines are baby blue and not as pretty as the old Erie ones. No gold and silver trim, not much on style.

About 5 years ago mom called me one evening, dad had passed away. We of course all went out to the old home to say our farewells. While we were at the old house, my son suggested we go up across the field and show my grandson the trains. We crossed the field and went up to the bluff, but the tracks were gone. It seems that Conrail could no longer make a profit with the line and had abandoned it a few years before.

We spent a little time up there, I said hello to my Rex while we were heading back to the house. My son and grandson were running way ahead of me. Funny thing, maybe it was just my old mind playing tricks. But as I took exactly 3 steps from where Rex was buried, I could have sworn I heard three barks of a dog, and just for a brief moment as I turned around I saw some black smoke and smelt burnt diesel in the air.